"If the batsman talks again he will be ordered off the grounds,"

declared Umpire Tozier sternly.

But d.i.c.k felt the sting of his opponent's taunt and longed to be even. Greg signaled for a drop ball---a difficult one for a schoolboy to throw. It was the first time in the game that Greg had asked for this.

d.i.c.k "made up" the ball with extra care, then let it go. It looked like a chest-high ball as it came, and was so slow that Hi threw back his bat to slam it.

"A home run on this!" thought Hi exultantly.

From the sides of the field came a mocking laugh, for the ball had dropped, leaving Hi pounding wildly at the air.

"Strike one!" called Ben Tozier, slipping a pebble to his other hand.

d.i.c.k smiled quietly as the ball came back to him. Greg signaled for an outshoot. But d.i.c.k "made up" the ball and imitated his delivery of the throw before.

"I'll get down and get it, this time!" flashed Martin resentfully.

He did, only to find himself no nearer the ball than before.

"Strike two!"

t.i.ttering came from the sides now, also some applause. The spectators had just begun to understand that d.i.c.k Prescott was pitching better ball.

"Ball one!"

Hi felt a bit better for a moment. Then:

"Strike three! Out!"

With a muttered growl of disgust, Captain Martin gave up his post to Percival.

"What has got into Prescott?" demanded Rodgers, of the Norths, anxiously.

"Oh, we'll pound him to pieces soon," muttered Hi.

"Strike one!" sounded the umpire's steady, low voice.

In a moment or two more it was: "Strike three. Out!"

Then a third batsman took post. d.i.c.k Prescott, his face now flushed with pleasure, not humiliation, and his eyes flashing battle, put the third man out for the Norths.

Yet, though the Central Grammars put two of their men on bases, they, too, went back to gra.s.s ere a run could be scored.

The fifth inning was almost a duplicate of the fourth; no ground gained. In the sixth, after having two men struck out, the Norths took two base hits away from Prescott, and had men on first and second. In an unwary moment for the Centrals the man at second made third just ahead of the ball.

"We'll have a third run in a moment, if our boys keep their heads,"

murmured Hi Martin confidently. "That will keep us at three to nothing."

At that instant d.i.c.k delivered a ball that the North batsman tapped, but just hard enough to drive it for a fair catch into Prescott's hands.

"You idiot!" glared Martin at the offender, as the Norths took the field.

However, all predictions were still in favor of the North Grammars, who had two runs put away while they had kept Prescott's men from scoring.

"Fellows, we've got to do something, and we must make it strong!"

muttered d.i.c.k, as his side came in.

Reade went to bat---was struck out.

"That wasn't very strong," sighed Tom, as he pa.s.sed d.i.c.k going to the plate.

d.i.c.k Prescott had his favorite bat in his hand. He gripped it a little harder for an instant, then relaxed and waited for Hi's puzzling delivery.

"Strike one!"

d.i.c.k swung for the next one that came. Almost mechanically Tozier opened his mouth to call:

"Stri-----"

But d.i.c.k's willow cut in with a "whack!"

"Woof! Whoop!" Central boys among the spectators sent up an expectant yell, then watched breathlessly. Was the luck about to change?

"Go it! Go it! Go it!" yelled the Central boys in three different pitches of enthusiasm.

d.i.c.k, as he struck first and turned, took a fleeting look at the North's right fielder, still in pursuit of the long fly that had gone by him and was rolling over the field. Then, straining lungs and nerves, d.i.c.k sprinted toward the second bag.

"Go it! Hustle!"

Behind him d.i.c.k heard the whistle of the coming ball. Just ahead of him was the plate. He took a long leap, then slid. Second baseman held up the ball in his right hand.

"Safe, safe!" yelled the gleeful Central spectators.

"Out! That was out!" hoa.r.s.ely declared the boosters for the North Grammars.

"Safe at second," called Ben Tozier steadily.

"Oh, you ape of an umpire!" grunted Hi Martin disgustedly, as he mitted the ball from second. For an instant he watched d.i.c.k, who was edging away from second. Then he turned to send in a drive past Greg, who now hovered over the plate.

Greg Holmes went to two strikes and three b.a.l.l.s, Hi all the time alertly watching Prescott at second.

Crack! And now Greg was running. Norths' left-fielder m.u.f.fed the ball, then recovered and threw like a flash to third. But d.i.c.k was there a shade of a second ahead of the leather.

"Safe" declared the umpire.

Hi Martin flashed a warning look at the catcher for his nine, then sent a sweeping glare around the bases. Greg and d.i.c.k smiled sweetly back.

"Play ball!" ordered Umpire Tozier.

Dan Dalzell was now at bat, tingling with anxiety, though his grin seemed a yard wide.