"Even if he isn't going to college!" added someone, and Joe felt his face burn. He was not at all puffed up over the fact that he was going to Yale, and he disliked exceedingly to get that reputation--so unjustly. But he did not protest.

When the second man went out without getting to first base, it looked as if the contest was going to be a close one, and there began to be whispers of a "pitchers' battle."

"'Pitchers' battle' nothing!" exclaimed Joe in a whisper to Tom. "That fellow can't curve a ball. I've been watching him. He's got a very fast straight delivery, and that's how he's fooling 'em. I'm going to hit him, and so can the rest of us if we don't let him bluff. Just stand close up to the plate and plug it. Who comes next?"

"Percy Parnell."

"Oh, wow! Well, unless he's improved a whole lot he won't do much."

But Percy had, for the next moment he got the ball just where he wanted it, and slammed it out for a three bagger amid enthusiastic howls. Then the other Silver Star players became aware of the opposing pitcher's weakness and began hitting him, until three runs had come in. Then, in response to the frantic appeals of the "rooters" and their own captain, the Resolutes took a brace and halted the winning streak. But it had begun, and nothing could stop it.

Joe, much elated that his diagnosis of his opponent had been borne out, again took his place in the box. He determined to show what he could do in the way of pitching, having done some warming-up work with Tom during the previous inning.

He struck out the first man cleanly, and the second likewise. The third hit him for two fouls, and then, seeming to have become familiar with Joe's style, whacked out one that was good for two bases.

"We're finding him! We're finding him!" yelled the excited Resolutes.

"Only two down, and we've got a good hitter coming."

Joe saw that his fellow players were getting a little "rattled," fearing perhaps that he was going to pieces, so, to delay the game a moment, and pull himself together, he walked toward home, and pretended to have a little conference with the catcher.

In reality they only mumbled meaningless words, for Tom knew Joe's trick of old. But the little break seemed to have a good effect, for the young pitcher struck out the next man and no runs came in.

"Oh, I guess yes!" cried the Silver Star crowd.

The home team got two runs the next inning, and with goose eggs in their opponents' frame it began to look more like a one-sided contest.

"Boys, we've got to wallop 'em!" exclaimed the visiting captain earnestly, as they once more came to bat.

Joe's arm was beginning to feel the unaccustomed strain a trifle, and to limber up the muscles he "wound-up" with more motions and elaborateness than usual as he again took the mound. As he did so he heard from the grandstand a loud laugh--a laugh that fairly bubbled over with sneering, caustic mirth, and a voice remarked, loud enough for our hero to hear:

"I wonder where he learned that wild and weird style of pitching? He'll fall all apart if he doesn't look out!"

He cast a quick glance in the direction of the voice and saw Ford Weston, who sat beside Mabel Davis, fairly doubled up with mirth. Mabel seemed to be remonstrating with him.

"Don't break your arm!" called Ford, laughing harder than before.

"Hush!" exclaimed Mabel.

Joe felt the dull red of shame and anger mounting to his cheeks.

"So that's a Yale man," he thought. "And I'm going to Yale. I wonder if they're all like that there? I--I hope not."

And, for the life of him, Joe could not help feeling a sense of anger at the youth who had so sneeringly laughed at him.

"And he's a Yale man--and on the nine," mused Joe.

CHAPTER V

OFF FOR YALE

"We've got the game in the refrigerator--on ice."

"Take it easy now, Silver Stars."

"Let 'em get a few runs if they want to."

Thus spoke some of the spectators, and a number of the members of the home team, as the last half of the seventh inning started with the score ten to three in favor of the Silver Stars. It had not been a very tight contest on either side, and errors were numerous. Yet, in spite of the sneering laugh of the Yale man, Joe knew that he had pitched a good game. They had hit him but seldom, and one run was due to a m.u.f.fed ball by the centre fielder.

"Well, I guess you haven't forgotten how to pitch," exulted Tom, as he sat beside his chum on the bench.

Behind them, and over their heads, sat the spectators in the grandstand, and when the applause at a sensational catch just made by the left fielder, retiring the third man, had died away the voices of many in comment on the game could be heard.

"Oh, I'm not so very proud of myself," remarked Joe. "I can see lots of room for improvement. But I'm all out of practice. I think I could have held 'em down better if we'd had a few more games to back us up."

"Sure thing. Well, this is a good way to wind up the season. I heard a little while ago that the Resolutes came over here to make mince-meat of us. They depended a whole lot on their pitcher, but you made him look like thirty cents."

"Oh, I don't know. He's got lots of speed, and if he had the benefit of the coaching we got at Excelsior Hall he'd make a dandy."

"Maybe. I'm going over here to have a chin with Rodney Burke. I won't be up for a good while."

"And I guess I won't get a chance this inning," remarked Joe, as he settled back on the bench. As he did so he was aware of a conversation going on in the stand over his head.

"And you say he's going to Yale this term?" asked someone--a youth's deep-chested tones.

"I believe so--yes," answered a girl. Joe recognized that Mabel Davis was speaking. "He's a chum of my brother's," she went on.

"They're talking of me," thought Joe, and he looked apprehensively at his companions on the bench, but they seemed to be paying no attention to him, for which he was grateful. They were absorbed in the game.

"Going to Yale; eh?" went on the youth's voice, and Joe felt sure he was Ford Weston. "Well, we eat his kind up down there!"

"Hush! You mustn't talk so of my friends," warned Mabel, and yet she laughed.

"Oh, if he's a friend of yours, that's different," came the retort.

"You're awful strong with me, Mabel, and I'd do anything you asked."

The girl laughed in a pleased sort of way, and Joe, with a wild feeling in his heart, felt a certain scorn for both of them.

"Yes, he and my brother are chums," resumed Mabel. "They went to boarding school together, but Joe is going to Yale. He is just crazy about baseball--in fact Tom is, too, but Joe wants to be a great pitcher."

"Does he think he's going to pitch at Yale?"

"I believe he does!"

"Then he's got a whole lot more thinks coming!" laughed the Yale man.