"Oh, papa!" cried one pretty girl, clasping his left arm.

"Oh, papa!" exclaimed the other pretty girl, seizing his right arm.

"That's all right, my dears," he answered. "Don't you suppose I want to see my old college win? And they will, too! Those boys have grit!"

"Yes, but they're short one of their best players," said a man next to the "old grad," and he told about Sid, for that was common knowledge now.

A goose egg went up in the Boxer frame that inning, and Tom looked happier. But, try as his men did in their share of the third, nothing resulted, though Woodhouse laid out a pretty liner, which was caught, after a run, by Sam Burton. Then came the heart-breaking last of the third, when three runs were added to Boxer's score.

"Go on back home!" yelled some Boxer enthusiast at the Randall team.

"You can't play ball! Go back!"

"Not until we have your scalps!" declared Bean Perkins vindictively.

Seated together on the middle grand stand, Madge Tyler, Mabel Harrison and Ruth Clinton looked at each other.

"Looks pretty bad, doesn't it, Ruth?" asked Madge.

"Don't talk," said Ruth in a low voice, as she saw her brother's team coming in. "I'm--I'm just _praying_ for them, Madge."

A ray of light came to Randall in this inning for, though Pete Backus struck out, Tom laid down a pretty two bagger and came home on what was intended as a sacrifice hit by Joe Jackson, only it was fumbled and Joe got to first. Then Jerry fanned and Dutch got out on an almost impossible foul that Stoddard grabbed, banging up against the grand stand to do it.

"One to five," remarked Tom musingly, as he went to his box, for the ending of the fourth. "Well, we can't be whitewashed, anyhow, but I guess it's all up with us."

It seemed so, for in that inning Boxer added two runs to her credit, even if again Tom did strike out Langridge. The score was 7 to 1 against Randall now. In the fifth inning Tom's side gathered in one run, Phil making it on a sacrifice by Holly Cross, and Boxer further sweetened her score by another tally. In the beginning of the sixth Randall had the joy of seeing another single mark go up in her frame.

"We've got three runs," Tom remarked to Phil, as he went to his box.

"One more in each inning will look pretty, but it will hardly do the work," and he spoke bitterly.

"Hard luck, old man, but maybe it will turn," came from Phil.

But, alas for hopes! Many things happened in the last half of the sixth, and when they were done occurring there were four runs chalked up for Boxer. Tom rather lost control of himself, and had walked two men, while there was ragged field work to account for the rest of the disaster. And now the score stood 12 to 3 in favor of Boxer Hall. It seemed like a farce, and even Boxer Hall was tired of cheering herself. Tom saw the championship slipping away after all his hard work. Even Bricktop Molloy, usually cheerful in the face of heavy odds, did not smile, and Mr. Leighton looked gloomy.

"Well, let the slaughter go on," remarked Tom, as he came in with his men, to see what the seventh inning held in store for them.

"I guess you'd better let Evert pitch the rest of the game, Mr.

Leighton," said Tom, as he sat down on the bench beside the coach. "He can't do any worse than I've done."

"Nonsense! Things may take a turn even yet, though I admit they look rather bad for us. I hope----"

But Mr. Leighton did not finish. There seemed to be some dispute with the man on guard at the players' gate.

"No, you can't go in," said the official. "How do I know you are a member of the Randall team?"

"Why, of course I am!" cried a voice, and, at the sound of it, Tom looked up quickly.

"Sid Henderson!" exclaimed the captain.

"Oh, Tom! Tom!" cried Sid. "Am I in time?" and he pushed past the gate tender.

"In time? Yes, to see us walloped," answered the captain bitterly.

"In time? What do you mean?" and Mr. Leighton caught at a strange note in Sid's voice.

"To play the game!"

"Play the game?" Tom had leaped to his feet.

"Yes. It's all right. Here's a note from Dr. Churchill. The ban is removed. I can play--I can play!"

Tom ran over, and threw his arms around Sid. The game came to a sudden stop. The note was examined. Mr. Leighton told the umpire to make the announcement that Sid Henderson would bat for Pete Backus that inning, and take his place in the game after that.

"I protest!" cried Langridge, coming up with an ugly look on his face.

There was a conference of the officials, but in the end they had to admit that Sid was eligible, and the game started again. But with what a different feeling among the Randall players! It was as if new life had been infused into them. Bean Perkins started the song, "We're Going to Wallop 'em Now!" and it was roared out from several hundred l.u.s.ty throats.

Nor was it unjustified; for with a grim viciousness, after Holly Cross had struck out, Dan Woodhouse rapped out a three bagger the moment he came up to the bat, and Bricktop followed with a two-sack ball, bringing in Kindlings, while Sid, with a happy look on his face, looked grimly at Langridge, as if telling him to do his worst. The stands were still trembling under the stamping that had followed Dan's arrival home with a run, and when Sid swung at the ball, and duplicated Dan's trick, bringing in Bricktop, there was a wild riot of yells. They were kept up even when Tom sacrificed to bring Sid home, and then Joe Jackson got to first on a fly that McGherity m.u.f.fed. Jerry, by hitting out a pretty liner, enabled his brother to get to third, while Jerry was held on first. Up came Dutch and he clouted the ball to such good purpose that he got to third, and the Jersey twins scored. Then poor Dutch died on third for Phil fanned out. But nothing could dampen the enthusiasm of the Randallites then, for they had secured five runs, and the score stood only 12 to 8 against them now.

"Oh, we can catch up!" yelled Bean Perkins. "Now for the 'Conquer or Die' song, fellows," and the strangely beautiful and solemn strains of the Latin melody floated over the field.

Tom's men began to play like fiends. They seemed to be all over the field, and, though Tom was. .h.i.t for a single, not another man got to first.

"Oh, if we can only hold 'em down, and bring in a few more runs we've got 'em!" panted Tom, as he came to the bench in the beginning of the eighth, and sat down beside Sid. "But say, old man, how did it happen that the doctor let you play at the last minute?" he asked, while the others waited for Sid's answer.

"I'll tell you later," the second baseman promised. "Gee, but I had a time getting here! Trolley wasn't running, and I had to come by train.

Thought I'd have a long walk, but I met a fellow in an auto and he gave me a lift. Then, just as I got here I heard that the trolleys started running about five minutes after I left the stalled car. But, Tom, are we going to win?"

"We sure are," declared the captain, clapping Sid on the back.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

BATTING TO WIN

But, though things had started off with a rush in the seventh, they went slower for Randall in the eighth, and one run was all that could be gathered in. Holly Cross got to first, and managed to steal second and third, while Kindlings Woodhouse and Bricktop ingloriously fanned. Sid laid out a beautiful three-bagger, bringing in Holly with the run. Then Tom was walked, much to his surprise, with Sid on third, and Joe Jackson got a pa.s.s, thus filling the bases. Randall was wild, for it looked as if a big play would be pulled off, but Jerry Jackson fanned, and the three men expired on the bags.

"Hold 'em down, fellows! Hold 'em down!" pleaded Tom. "We only need four runs to win the game, if we can keep 'em from scoring in their next two whacks."

"If," remarked Phil cynically. "Ever see a white black-bird, Tom?"

"Oh, we'll do it!" declared Sid savagely.

Tom did manage to retire Boxer without a run, surpa.s.sing himself by the excellence of his curves. He was more like himself now.

Then came the memorable ninth inning, which, when Dutch started it off by fanning out, looked as if the end had come. It looked even more so when Phil Clinton also whacked only the air and there was a curious hush over the big crowd as Holly Cross walked to the plate.