CHAPTER XIV

What to do next was a problem for the young collegian. If Grace was not at the seminary he had no desire to call there. He continued to work over the tire, and soon it was properly inflated, and he put away the tools he had used. His face was a study, for he was doing some hard thinking.

"Well, I'll go to Hope anyway, and if she isn't there I'll leave my card, so she'll know I called. Then I'll see what she has to say about matters," he told himself; and setting his teeth somewhat grimly he started up the automobile and continued his trip.

At the door of the seminary he was met by a maid, who brought him the information that Miss Laning was out. Then several girls who knew Sam came up, and one of them explained that Grace had gone automobiling.

"She went with Ada Waltham and her brother, Chester," explained the girl student. "You see, Chester has a brand new foreign car—a beauty—and he was very anxious to give his sister and Grace a ride. We thought he might have asked some of us to go along, but he didn't," and the girl pouted slightly.

"You don't suppose they were going to stop at Brill?" questioned Sam, struck by a sudden thought.

"I don't think so, Mr. Rover. Ada said something about riding to Columbia and having dinner there this evening. That, you know, is quite a distance, and the road doesn't run past your college."

"Then I suppose they won't be back till late?"

"They had permission to stay out until ten o'clock," put in another of the girls who were present.

"Oh! I see." As the girls were looking at him rather sharply, Sam felt his face begin to burn. "Well, I hope they have a good time," he added somewhat hastily. "Good-evening," and then turned and walked quickly towards his automobile; and in a minute more was on his way back to Brill.

"I'll wager Grace Laning has got herself into hot water," was the comment of one of the girls, as they watched Sam's departure. "I don't believe he likes it one bit that she went off with the Walthams."

"Humph! You can't expect a girl to hang back when she is asked to take a ride in a brand new automobile, and with such millionaires as Chester Waltham and his sister," broke in another girl. "I just wish I had the chance," she added rather enviously.

In the meantime, Sam was driving along the country road in rather a reckless fashion. His mind was in a turmoil, and to think clearly just then seemed to be out of the question.

"Of course she has a right to go out and dine with the Walthams if she wants to," he told himself. "But at the same time——" And then there came up in his mind a hundred reasons why Grace should have refused the invitation and waited for him to call upon her.

"Hello! you are back early," remarked Spud, when Sam appeared at Brill. "I thought you were going to make an evening of it."

"I had some bad luck on the road," replied Sam, rather sheepishly. "I had a blowout, and in trying to get the tire off I slipped and went flat on my back in the mud and slush," he continued.

"Is that so? Well, that's too bad, Sam. So you came home to get cleaned up, eh? I thought your girl thought so much of you that she wouldn't care if you called even when you were mussed up," and at this little joke Spud passed on, much to the Rover boy's relief.

The only occupant of Number 25 who seemed to be happy that night was Songbird, who came in whistling gaily.

"Had a fine time with Minnie," he declared—"best time I ever had in my life. I tell you, Sam, she's a wonderful girl."

"So she is, Songbird."

"Of course, you don't think she's half as wonderful as Grace," went on the would-be poet of Brill; "but, then, that's to be expected."

"How did Mr. Sanderson treat you?" broke in Sam, hastily, to shift the subject.

"Oh, he treated me better than he did before." Songbird's face sobered for a minute. "To be sure he feels dreadfully sore over the loss of that four thousand dollars. But I assured him that I and the authorities were doing all in our power to get the money back, and I also assured him that if it wasn't recovered I expected to pay it back just as soon as I could earn it. Of course he thinks I am talking through my hat about earning such a big amount, but just the same I am going to do it just as soon as I graduate from Brill. I'd go to work to-morrow instead of staying here if it wasn't that I had promised my folks that I would graduate from Brill, and as near the top of my class as I could get. If I left now, my mother would be heartbroken."

"Of course your folks know about the loss, Songbird?"

"Yes. I wrote them the whole particulars just as soon as I could, and I've let them know what we are doing now."

"Do they blame you for the loss?"

"My father thinks I might have been a little more careful, but my mother says she thinks it is Mr. Sanderson's fault that he let me get such an amount of money in cash and carry it on such a lonely road. But dad is all right, and in his last letter he said he could let Mr. Sanderson have a thousand dollars if that would help matters out."

"Had Mr. Sanderson heard any more from old Grisley, or Belright Fogg?"

"Yes. He saw Grisley and the old man said the lawyer was boiling mad because he had agreed to let the mortgage run for another year. Fogg wouldn't accept the five dollars that old Grisley offered him for his trouble, so then Grisley would give him nothing; and there the matter stands."

"He'll get something out of Grisley if he possibly can. My opinion is, since Fogg lost his job with the railroad company, and made such a fizzle of his doings in New York City, he is in bad shape financially and eager to get his hands on some money in any old way possible."

"Have you settled the snowball affair with him yet?"

"No. I'm going to see Dr. Wallington about it to-morrow," answered Sam.

The Rover boy had rather expected some sort of a communication from Grace the next day, and he was keenly disappointed when no letter came and when she failed to call him up on the telephone. Several times he felt on the point of calling her up, but each time set his teeth hard and put it off.

"It's up to her to say something—not me," he told himself. "She must know how I feel over the affair."

When Sam called upon Dr. Wallington, the head of Brill met him with rather an amused smile.

"I suppose you want to see me in regard to that claim of Mr. Fogg's," he said.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I have had one of the professors call on the lawyer and bind him down to just exactly what happened and how badly he was hurt. It seems that he did not go to any doctor at all, although he did see a friend of his, a Doctor Slamper, on the street."

"Doctor Slamper!" cried Sam. "Oh, I remember him. He's the fellow who came here with Mr. Fogg at the time we put in our claim for damages on account of the wrecked biplane."

"Ah, indeed! I remember," and Dr. Wallington nodded knowingly.

"And what does Mr. Fogg want us to do?" questioned Sam.

"At first, as you know, he wanted fifty dollars. Then he came down to twenty-five, and at last to fifteen. Then we brought to his attention the fact that the snowballing contest had taken place on the college grounds, and that it was his own fault that he had become mixed up in the affair. This brought on quite an argument, but in the end Mr. Fogg agreed to accept six dollars, which he said would pay for three consultations with Dr. Slamper at two dollars per consultation," and the good doctor smiled rather grimly.

"And did you pay the six dollars, Doctor?"

"Not yet, Rover. I expected, however, to send him a check for that amount to-morrow, provided you are satisfied."

"I think I'll have to be, Dr. Wallington. I suppose it's rather a cheap way out of the difficulty, although as a matter of fact I don't believe he is entitled to a cent."

"You may be right, Rover. But six dollars, I take it, is not so very large a price to pay for so much fun—I mean, of course, the fun of the snowballing contest in which, so they tell me, you were the one to capture the banners of the opposition."

"You're right, sir. And I'm satisfied, and you can place the amount on my bill," answered Sam; and then he bowed himself out of the doctor's office.

Another day passed, and still there came no word to Sam from Hope. He was very much worried, but did his best not to show it.

"Call for all baseball candidates at the gym to-morrow afternoon!" announced Bob, during the lunch hour.

"I don't think I want to go in for baseball this spring," returned Sam.

"I heard something of that from some of the other fellows, Sam," interrupted Bob. "It won't do. We need you and we are bound to have you."

The roads were now drying up rapidly, and that afternoon Spud asked Sam if he did not want to walk to Ashton.

"I've got a few things I want to get at the stores," said Spud. "Come along, the hike on the road will do you good."

"All right, Spud, I'll go along, for I am tired of writing themes and studying," answered Sam. But it was not his theme and his lessons that worried the boy. Thinking about Grace, and waiting continually for some sort of word from her, had given him not only a heart ache but a headache as well.

When the boys arrived at Ashton they separated for a short while, Spud to get fitted with a new pair of shoes while Sam went to another place in quest of a new cap. The Rover boy had just made his purchase, and was leaving the store to rejoin Spud when he heard some one call his name, and looking around saw Andy Royce approaching.

"I just thought I'd ask you if you had heard anything about that Blackie Crowden yet," remarked the gardener from Hope, as he approached.

"Not yet, Royce. But they have sent out a good description of him, along with copies of his photograph, so the authorities think they will get him sooner or later."

"I've heard something that maybe you would like to know," went on Andy Royce. "I've heard that Crowden was over at Leadenfield, to a small roadhouse kept by a man named Bissette, a Frenchman."

"When was this?" demanded Sam, with interest.

"Either the day of the assault or the day after. Bissette didn't seem to know exactly. I happened to be there buying some potatoes for the seminary—you see Bissette is a kind of agent for some farmers of that neighborhood. I mentioned the robbery to him and spoke about the suspicion about Crowden, and he was very much surprised. He said Crowden was there for a couple of hours using the telephone, and then he left the place when somebody drove up in a cutter."

"Do you mean that Crowden went off with the other person in the cutter?"

"Bissette thinks so, although he ain't sure, because as soon as Crowden went out, Bissette turned to do some work inside and forgot all about him."

"Did Bissette have any idea who the man in the cutter was?"

"He wasn't sure about that either, but he kind of thought it was a lawyer who used to work for the railroad company—a man named Fogg."

CHAPTER XV

"No, I can't say that. The assault was committed by one man, and so far they haven't been able to find any accomplices."

When Sam returned to Brill he at once sought out Songbird and told him of what he had heard. The would-be poet of Brill was even more surprised than Spud had been.

"I wouldn't put it above Belright Fogg to be in with a rascal like Blackie Crowden," was Songbird's comment. "He did his best against you in that flying machine affair and in that affair in New York City."

"I've got an idea," said Sam, after a slight pause. "I am to pay him six dollars' damages for hitting him in the head with that snowball. Doctor Wallington was going to send him a check. I've got a good notion to ask the doctor to let me pay the bill and get Fogg's receipt for it. That will give me a chance to pump him about this matter."

"Do it, Sam! And I'll go along," burst out his chum, quickly. "If this Belright Fogg knows Blackie Crowden I want to know it."

Permission was readily granted by the head of Brill to Sam to pay the bill, and that evening the Rover boy and Songbird took the former's automobile and rode over to where Belright Fogg boarded, on the outskirts of Ashton. They found the lawyer just preparing to go out, and he showed that he was very much surprised to see them.

"I suppose you are here to pay that bill you owe me," he said stiffly to Sam.

"I am, Mr. Fogg," was the answer. "I believe you agreed to accept six dollars. If you will make out a receipt for the amount I will give you Doctor Wallington's check."

"Humph! isn't the check receipt enough?" demanded the lawyer.

"Perhaps. But I would prefer to have a receipt showing exactly what the money is being paid for," answered Sam. "As a lawyer you must know it is best to have these things straight."

"Oh, very well. Come in and I'll write out your receipt for you," announced Belright Fogg, coldly, and ushered the pair into a sitting-room.

Sam had asked Songbird to say nothing about Blackie Crowden until the matter of the snowball injury was settled. A receipt for the money was quickly penned by Belright Fogg.

"There, I presume that will be satisfactory," he said, as he showed it to Sam.

"That's all right, Mr. Fogg," was the answer. "And here is your check." Sam paused for a moment while the lawyer looked the check over. "By the way, Mr. Fogg, I understand you were in Leadenfield a few days ago at the tavern kept by Bissette."

"What's that?" shot out the lawyer, somewhat startled.

"I said that I understood that you were in Leadenfield a few days ago at the tavern kept by Bissette."

"And that you met a man there named Blackie Crowden," broke in Songbird, quickly.

"I—I was in Leadenfield some days ago on business," answered Belright Fogg, hesitatingly, "but I wasn't at the Bissette place, or anywhere near it."

"But you met a man named Blackie Crowden?" queried Sam.

The lawyer glared at the Rover boy and also at Songbird.

"Blackie Crowden? I don't know such an individual—at least, not by name."

"He is a fellow who used to work in Hoover's livery stable in Center Haven—a man who stutters greatly."

"Don't know the fellow," was the prompt response.

"You mean to say you didn't meet Blackie Crowden at Bissette's?" cried Songbird.

"Look here, young man, what are you driving at?" stormed Belright Fogg, in a sudden temper. "You've no right to question me in this manner. What is it all about?"

"We have it on good authority that you met this man, Blackie Crowden, outside of Bissette's place," answered Sam, stoutly.

"Who is this man you mention?"

"Being a lawyer and interested in public affairs, you ought to know that, Mr. Fogg," answered Songbird. "He is the man who, we think, knocked me down and robbed me of Mr. Sanderson's four thousand dollars."

"Ah! I—I remember now. And so you are trying to connect me up with that rascal, are you? What do you mean by that?"

"Never mind what we mean," declared the would-be poet of Brill, stoutly. "I want to get at the facts in this matter. If you say you didn't meet Crowden, all right, we'll let it go at that. But there are others who say you did meet him."

"It's false—absolutely false!" roared Fogg, but as he spoke his face paled greatly. "I—I don't know this fellow, Crowden—never met him in my life. This is all a put-up job on your part to make trouble for me," and he glared savagely at both Songbird and Sam.

"It's no put-up job, Mr. Fogg. We intend to get at the bottom of this sooner or later," answered Sam, as calmly as he could. "Come on, Songbird."

"See here! you're not going to leave this house until I know just what you are driving at," roared the lawyer. "I won't have you besmirching my fair name!"

"Your fair name!" returned Sam, sarcastically. "There is no necessity for you to talk that way, Mr. Fogg. I know you thoroughly. If you want to rake up the past you can do it, but I advise you not to do so."

"I—I——" began the lawyer, and then stopped, not knowing how to proceed.

"We might as well go," broke in Songbird. "But perhaps, Mr. Fogg, you haven't heard the end of this," added the would-be poet of Brill; and though the lawyer continued to storm and argue, the two chums left the house and were soon on the return to Brill.

"I'm afraid we didn't gain anything by that move," was Sam's comment, as they rode along. "He'll be on his guard now, and that will make it harder than ever to connect him with this affair—provided he really is mixed up in it."

"He acted pretty startled when we put it up to him," returned Songbird. He heaved a deep sigh. "Well, maybe some day this matter will be cleared up, but it doesn't look like it now."

Several days passed, and Sam stuck to his lessons as hard as ever. Once or twice he thought of calling up Grace at Hope or of writing her a note, but each time he put it off, why, he could not exactly explain even to himself. But then came a rift in the clouds and the sun shone as brightly as ever. A note came from Grace, which he read with much satisfaction. A part of the communication ran as follows:

"I was thinking all manner of mean things about you because you did not answer my note of last week, when—what do you think? The note came back to me, brought in by one of the smaller girls here, Jessie Brown. Jessie was going to town that day, and I gave her the note to post and she put it in the pocket of her coat, along with several other letters, so she says. Well, the pocket had a hole in it, and, as you might know, my own particular letter had to slip through that hole into the lining of the coat. The rest of the letters were mailed, but my letter remained in the lining until this morning, when Jessie came to me with tears in her eyes to tell of what had happened. I felt pretty angry over it, but glad to know that you were not guilty of having received the note and then not answering it.

"In the note I told you how sorry I was to find that you had called here while I was away. You see, Ada Waltham's brother, Chester, came on in his new automobile—a big foreign affair, very splendid. He wanted to give Ada a ride, and invited me to go along, so I went, and we had a very nice time. Chester is an expert auto driver, and the way we flew along over the roads was certainly marvelous. He insisted upon it that we dine with him. And, oh, Sam! such a spread as it was!

"You know he is a millionaire in his own right (Ada has a great lot of money too). We certainly had one grand time, and I shall never forget it. He got a beautiful bouquet for the table, and also bouquets for Ada and me to take home, along with boxes of the most beautiful chocolates I ever ate. But just the same, I am awfully sorry I wasn't at the seminary when you called, and I don't understand why you haven't been up since, or why you didn't telephone to me.

"One of the girls here says they are organizing the Brill baseball nine for the coming season, and that they want you to play as you did last year. If you do join the nine, I hope you have the same success or more. And you can rest assured that I will be on the grandstand to offer you all the encouragement possible. I hope that Dick and Tom come on to see the game and bring Dora and Nellie along, and then we can have the nicest kind of a jolly party. Ada Waltham, as you may know, loves baseball games too, and she says that she is going to have Chester here at that time to take her over to Brill, unless somebody else turns up to accompany her."

"All right, as far as it goes," mused Sam, on reading this note. "But I wish Chester Waltham would stay away. Of course I can't blame Grace for liking a ride in a big, foreign car and being invited out to such a first-class spread as she mentions, but, just the same, I wish she wouldn't go with him."

However, the communication brightened his thoughts considerably, and it was only a little while later when he talked to the girl over the telephone and made an arrangement for a ride in the automobile on the following Saturday afternoon, Songbird and Minnie to accompany them.

The four went off to Center Haven, where Sam spread himself on a dinner which was certainly all that could be desired. Grace was in one of her most winning moods, and when the young couple parted the cloud that had hovered over them seemed to be completely dispelled.

As winter waned and the grass on the campus took on a greener hue, baseball matters came once more to the fore at Brill. Bob Grimes, who played at shortstop, was again the captain of the team, and it was generally understood that Spud Jackson would again occupy the position of catcher.

"We're going to miss Tom Rover a good deal this year," said Bob to some of the others. During the year past Tom had been the candidate for head twirler against both Bill Harney and Dare Phelps and had shown that he was the superior of both of the others.

"Well, you haven't got Tom Rover, so you've got to make the best of it," answered Stanley. "Phelps has been doing pretty well, I understand, so you might as well give him a chance."

"Yes, I thought I'd do that," answered the team captain. "Harney isn't in it at all, and doesn't want even to try. I'll give Phelps a chance and also Jack Dudley." Dudley was a sophomore whose swift pitching had become the general talk of the college. He, however, was rather erratic, and liable to go to pieces in a crisis.

As my old readers know, Sam had joined the team the year before only after considerable coaxing, and then merely as a substitute. During the middle of the great game he had been assigned to left field in place of a player who had twisted his foot. In that position he had caught a fly in a thoroughly marvelous manner, and he had also managed, when at the bat, to bring in a home run.

"We've simply got to have you on the team, Sam," said the captain, a little later, when he caught the Rover boy in one of the corridors. "Your hanging back this year is rather hurting our chances of winning."

"But, Bob, I want to pay attention to my lessons," pleaded Sam. "I can't afford to get behind."

"You'll not get behind," was the answer. "Aren't we all striving to graduate? You ought to be willing to do as much as Spud and myself."

"All right, then, Bob, if you are going to put it that way," was the answer, and thereupon Sam allowed his name to go on the list of prospective players and at once began training.

After that matters moved along swiftly. The committee from Brill met with the committee from Roxley and arrangements were perfected for the coming game. As the contest had taken place the year previous at Roxley, it was, of course, decided that the game this year should be played at Brill. Then men were set at work to place the diamond in the best possible shape for the contest, and the grandstand was repaired, and a new set of bleachers put up to accommodate a larger crowd than ever.

"This is a baseball year," announced Bob Grimes, "so we can expect a big rush of visitors." The nine had already won three games of minor importance.

"They tell me Roxley has got the best team it ever put in the field," announced Stanley one day, after he had been over to the other institution. "They've got three dandy pitchers, and two outfielders who are crackerjacks at batting. One of their men told me that they expected to walk all over us."

"Well, we'll see about that," returned Bob Grimes. "We've got a good team of our own, and I know every one of us will try to play his head off to win."

CHAPTER XVI

"Surest thing you know, Dora," he answered. "Oh, we've got to win from Roxley to-day!"

"Yes, but you haven't got me to pitch for you to-day, Sam," broke in Tom, as he came up and shook hands. "Who is going to do the twirling for Brill?"

"They are going to try Dare Phelps first, and if he can't make it, they will try Jack Dudley, one of the sophs."

"Oh, yes, I remember Dudley when he was a freshman," answered Tom. "Pretty clever fellow, too."

"How is it you didn't bring Grace with you, Sam?" questioned Nellie, as she took his hand.

"I'm to take you two girls up to Hope after I leave Tom and Dick at Brill," explained the youngest Rover. "Then we are to get all of you girls directly after lunch. Grace wanted it that way."

"My! but this is a touch of old times," remarked Dick, as he climbed into the automobile. "Let me take the wheel, Sam."

"Certainly, if you want to," was the quick reply, and a few minutes later, with the oldest Rover running the machine, the whole party set off for Brill.

"How are matters going in New York, Dick?" questioned Sam, while they rode along.

"We are doing quite well, Sam. Of course, we are having a little difficulty in certain directions, but that is to be expected. You must remember in Wall Street the rivalries are very keen. I suppose some of our competitors would like to put us out of business."

"What about that tour Tom mentioned?"

"I think we can make it, Sam. I'll know more about it a little later. There is no hurry, you know, because you've got to graduate first," and Dick smiled knowingly at his brother.

Songbird and some of the other collegians were waiting to welcome Dick and Tom, and as soon as they had left the automobile Sam continued on the way to Hope.

"Oh! I'm so glad to see you!" cried Grace, as she rushed out and kissed her sister and her cousin. "Come right in. We are going to have a special lunch in your honor. Sam, I'm sorry I can't invite you, but you know what the rules are."

"Never mind. Tom will be on hand at one-thirty promptly," answered the youth. "I hope you'll all be ready, for we can't delay, you know."

"We'll be ready, don't fear," answered Grace.

When Sam returned to Brill he found a crowd of the seniors surrounding his brothers, telling them of the many things that had happened in and around the college since they had left.

"It's a jolly shame we can't have you in the box to-day, Tom," said Bob Grimes. "I'm afraid we'll need you sorely," he added rather anxiously.

"Why don't you put William Philander Tubbs in?" suggested Tom, with a grin. "Don't you remember what a famous ball player he was?" And then there was a general laugh, at the recollection of a joke that had once been played on the dudish college student.

The air was filled with talk of the coming game, and but scant attention was paid to the lunch provided for the collegians and their guests. As soon as the meal was over, Tom took the Rover's automobile and started for Hope to bring Grace and the others. When he arrived there he found his wife, Dora and Grace talking to Ada Waltham and her brother Chester, to whom he was introduced.

"We are going over to the game," announced Chester Waltham. "Ada and I are going to take half a dozen of the young ladies."

"Fine!" returned Tom. "The more the merrier! Don't forget to tell the girls to whoop her up for Brill."

"I think the most of them will do that," said Ada Waltham; "although one or two of them are Roxley sympathizers."

"Well, Brill can't have everything its own way," answered Tom. A few minutes later he was on the return with Grace, Nellie and Dora.

When he arrived he found Sam awaiting them, and all walked down to the grandstand, where seats had been provided for the party. Grace and the others had just been made comfortable when Chester Waltham arrived with his sister and a number of others. The young millionaire came forward with a broad smile and was quickly introduced, and he lost no time in seating his sister next to Grace, while he sat directly behind the pair, with all the other girls he had brought close by. This arrangement did not altogether suit Sam, and he hurried off to the dressing-room to get into his baseball uniform in rather a doubtful frame of mind.

A little later there was a grand shouting at the entrance to the field, and into sight came a large automobile truck containing a drum and fife corps and carrying a large Roxley banner. The truck was followed by a dozen or more automobiles containing the Roxley team and their fellow-students. The students had tin horns and wooden rattles.

"Zip! Hurrah! Roxley!" was the cry, and then followed a great noise from the horns and rattles.

"Brill! Brill! Brill!" was the counter cry, and then the furious din was taken up by the other side.

After that the grandstand filled up rapidly and so did the bleachers, until there was not an available seat remaining. In the meanwhile, a parking place for automobiles and carriages at the far end of the field was also well patronized.

"Some crowd, and no mistake!" was Stanley's comment, as he looked at the masses of humanity waving flags and banners and tooting their horns and using various other devices for making noise. "This is by far the biggest crowd we have ever had."

"Roxley has sent word all around that they are going to bury us this year," returned another student standing by. "They claim they have a team that can't be beaten."

Down in the dressing-room Bob was giving some final instructions to his men.

"I want you to play from the word 'go,'" he said. "Sometimes a game is lost or won in the first inning. Don't let them get any kind of a lead if you can possibly help it."

It had been decided almost at the last minute that instead of covering left field Sam should cover third base. There was a big cheer for the Roxley team when it made its appearance on the field, and another cheer when the Brill nine showed itself. Then came the toss-up, and it was decided that Brill should go to the bat first.

The first man to the bat was a tall fellow who played center field, and as he came forward many of the Brill sympathizers cheered him lustily.

"Now show 'em what you can do!"

"Knock it over the back fence!"

The ball came in and the batter swung for it and missed it.

"Strike one!"

"That's the way to do it, Muggs!"

Again the ball came in, and this time there was a foul tip.

"Foul! Strike two!"

Following this second strike came two balls, over which the Brill contingent cheered. Then came a swift inshoot, which the batter missed by the fraction of an inch.

"Strike three! Batter out!" sang out the umpire.

"That's the way to do it, Muggs!" came the yell from the Roxley cohorts, and there followed a din of horns and rattles.

The second man up for Brill managed to get to first, but the next one went out on a pop fly, and then the man on first was caught trying to steal to second.

"That's the way to do it, Roxley! Keep it up!" And as a goose egg was put up for Brill on the score board the opponents cheered as wildly as ever.

But if Roxley had hoped to score in that first inning, her expectations were doomed to disappointment. The first man up went out on a pop fly, the second on a foul, and although the third managed to reach second base on what should have really been a one-base hit, the fourth man up knocked an easy one to first which ended their hopes.

It was not until the second inning that Sam came to the bat. There were two men out when he grasped the ashen stick and took his stand beside the home plate. He had a strike and two balls called on him, and then sent a clean hit between first and second bases.

"Run, Sam, run!" yelled Dick.

"Leg it, old man, leg it!" added Tom, and the youngest Rover certainly did speed for first, arriving there just a second before the ball.

"Oh, if only he can get in!" cried Grace, clapping her hands.

"It's a long way around to home plate," put in Chester Waltham. "He's got to have help to do it."

A moment later the next man to the bat knocked an easy fly to second and that ended the chances for Sam's scoring, and another goose egg went up for Brill on the score board.

In the end of the second inning Roxley was fortunate enough to open the play with a neat drive which brought the batter to second. Then came another one-base hit, and amid a wild yelling the runner from second slid in over the home plate.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! A run for Roxley!"

"That's the way to do it! Keep it up! Snow Brill under!"

Bob Grimes walked up to Dare Phelps, who was occupying the pitcher's box.

"Take it easy, Dare," he pleaded. "Don't let 'em rattle you."

"They are not going to rattle me," responded Dare Phelps, and pitched the next batter out in one-two-three order. In the meantime, however, the man on first managed to steal second. A moment later he tried to reach third. The pitcher threw the ball to Sam, who leaped up into the air and caught it, coming down on the runner while he was still a foot from the bag.

"Runner out!" cried the umpire, and Roxley's player arose rather crestfallen and limped off to the benches.

"That's the way to do it, Sam. Nab 'em every time!" cried Tom.

When the inning was ended Roxley had only the one run to its credit.

Brill came to the bat for the third time with a sort of do-or-die look on the faces of the players. It was plucky little Spud who started a batting streak, getting safely to first and followed by another player who managed to reach second, landing Spud on third. Then came two outs. Before the inning was ended, however, two runs were placed on the board to the credit of Brill.

"Two to one in favor of Brill!" cried one of the students.

"Just wait, this inning isn't over yet!" cried one of the Roxley sympathizers. Then Roxley went to the bat, and because of a bad fumble on the part of the Brill second baseman, they managed to secure another run.

"Two to two!" was the cry, as the figures went up on the big score board.

"Anybody's game, so far," said Dick Rover, soberly, "but I do hope Brill wins."

"And so do I," answered his brother Tom.

CHAPTER XVII

"Good work, Rover! Keep it up!" came from one of his chums.

"That won't do him any good. They can't bring it in," called out a Roxley sympathizer, and he proved to be a true prophet, for the inning came to an end with no additional runs, Sam getting no chance to advance beyond the second bag.

"Now, then, Phelps, keep cool," admonished Bob, when in the second half of the fifth inning the Brill pitcher passed the first batter on balls.

"All right, I'll do my best," answered Dare Phelps. "But I must confess my arm is beginning to hurt me," he added.

"Do you want to drop out?" questioned the captain, quickly.

"Oh, no, not until they hit me more than they have," responded the Brill pitcher, grimly.

There followed one out, but after that came some free hitting which brought in two runs.

"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted the Roxley students.

"Two to four in favor of Roxley! That's the way to do it! Snow 'em under!"

"Steady, Phelps, steady," warned the Brill captain. But it was of no avail, and the only way Brill could bring that inning to a finish was by the clever work of two of the fielders in capturing two flies which looked as if they might be home runs.

When the board showed the score of 2 to 4 Roxley went wild once more, while the followers of Brill looked correspondingly glum.

"Maybe you had better give Jack Dudley a chance," suggested Bob to Dare Phelps, when the two walked into the benches.

"Oh, let me try it just once more!" pleaded the pitcher. "Anybody might have let in those two runs."

"All right, Phelps, I'll give you one more chance," answered Bob, somewhat sharply. "You know we don't want this game to go to Roxley if we can possibly help it."

In the sixth inning Brill scored another goose egg. Then Roxley came once more to the bat, and on the first ball pitched by Phelps scored a home run, amid a yelling and cheering that could be heard for a great distance.

"Whoop! That's the way to do it! Five to two in favor of Roxley!"

"Keep it up, boys! Snow 'em under! Snow 'em under!" And then the Roxley crowd began a song, the refrain of which was: "We're here to-day to bury them!"

The cheering was still at its height when Bob motioned to Jack Dudley, who had been warming up in a corner of the field, to come forward and take Dare Phelps' place. There was a cheer from Brill for the new pitcher, while Phelps retired rather crestfallen.

"Now, then, Dudley, put 'em out in one-two-three order!" was the cry.

"We've killed off one pitcher; now kill off the next!" came the cry from the Roxleyites.

"Take it easy, Dudley," warned Bob. "Give 'em your inshoot and that new fadeaway."

"I'll give 'em all that is in me," returned Jack Dudley, with a determined look on his lean, and somewhat angular, face.

The first man up got two balls and two strikes. Then came a foul tip, followed by another strike.

"Strike three! Batter out!" called the umpire.

"Hurrah! That's the way to do it, Dudley!"

The next man managed to get to first, but then came two more outs, and the sixth inning came to a close with the score still standing, Brill 2—Roxley 5.

"That's some lead," remarked Chester Waltham. "Brill has got to get busy pretty quickly if it expects to win this game."

"Oh, we'll get there, don't you worry," answered Tom, quickly, and then he shouted: "Go to it, fellows; go to it! Lambast the life out of that leather!" and at this cry there was a general laugh.

The seventh inning proved a blank for both teams. Brill, however, managed to reach second, while Roxley was pitched out in one-two-three order by Dudley.

"Well, Dudley held them down that time," remarked Dick Rover. "I hope he manages to keep the good work up."

"Yes, but a pitcher can't win a ball game alone," answered Chester Waltham. "You've got to have some good batters."

"Go to it, Brill! Go to it! This is your lucky inning!" yelled Tom, enthusiastically. "Get busy, everybody!"

In the eighth inning the first man up for Brill went out on a pop fly. But then came a fine hit that took the next player safely to second. Then Sam walked to the plate.

"That's the way to do it, Brill!"

"Now, Rover, hit it for all you are worth!"

It must be confessed that Sam felt a trifle nervous, so anxious was he to make some sort of a showing. He swung his ashen stick at the first ball pitched.

"Strike one!" came from the umpire.

"Take your time, Sam!" yelled Tom. "Make him give it to you where you want it!"

Whether Sam heard the cry or not it would be hard to say, but he let the next ball go by, and then repeated this action.

"Ball two!" called the umpire.

"Oh, say! That was all right!" grumbled the Roxley catcher. "What do you want?"

"Too far out," returned the umpire sharply, and then added: "Play ball!"

The next one was a straight drive, and Sam swung at it with all the strength and skill he possessed.

Crack! The ashen stick hit the leather, and the sphere went sailing far down into center field.

"Go it, Rover, go it!"

"Come on in, Orben!"

Paul Orben, who had been the player to reach second, was already streaking up to third, and by the time Sam reached first Paul was legging it for the home plate.

"Throw that ball up here! Throw that ball up!" yelled the second baseman to the center fielder, who was still chasing after the bouncing leather.

Then amid a cloud of dust Paul slid in over the home plate while Sam, having reached second, was legging it rapidly for third. Up came the ball from the field to second, and then to third, but before it got there the youngest Rover was safely clutching the bag.

"Whoop! Hurrah! That's the way to do it! One run in and another on the way."

"Keep it up, Brill! You've struck your winning streak!"

"Oh, dear! I do hope Sam can bring that run in!" came from Grace.

"It might have been a home run if he had only run a little faster," remarked Chester Waltham.

"Faster!" retorted Tom, quickly. "Why, he legged it like greased lightning! Most players would have gotten only two bags out of that hit."

Following this batting came another out, but then the next man up managed to reach first, and amid a wild cheering on the part of the Brillites, and a loud tooting of horns, Sam rushed over the home plate.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Another run!"

"That makes the score four to five!"

"Keep up the good work, Brill!"

But that was the end of the run getting for the time being. Then Roxley came to the bat, and amid the most intense feeling Jack Dudley managed to pitch out three men in succession and the score went up on the board: Brill 4—Roxley 5.

"Now, fellows, this is our last chance," said Bob, as the team came in for the ninth inning. "Remember, one run will tie the score and two runs may win the game. Now every man up on the job."

The first batter for Brill in the ninth inning was plainly nervous. He let two good balls go by and thereby had two strikes called on him. Then he made a wild pass at the next ball, knocking a short foul which the first baseman for Roxley gathered in by a sensational running leap.

"One man gone! One man gone!" chanted the Roxley followers. "Now, then, get the other two."

"Take your time, boys, take your time," cried Bob. "Make them give you just what you want."

This advice was heeded, and as a result the next man got to first and on another one-base hit managed to reach third. Then came a one-bag drive that brought in a run and took the man on first to second.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! That ties the score!"

"Keep it up, Brill! Bring in all the runs you can!"

Following the bringing in of the tying run, there came some field play between the pitcher and the basemen, and as a result the man who had reached first was called out trying to steal second. In the mean time the other runner tried to steal home, but had to stay on third.

"Be careful, boys, be careful," pleaded Bob, and then a few seconds later came another base hit which brought in another run.

"Good! Good! That's the way to do it, Brill!"

"That makes the score six to five in favor of Brill!"

"Bring in half a dozen more while you are at it!"

"Hold them down. Don't let them get another run," pleaded the captain of Roxley's nine to his men.

"We're going to make a dozen more," announced Tom Rover, gaily. But this was not to be, and a few minutes later the inning came to an end with the score standing: Brill 6—Roxley 5.

"Now, then, Roxley, one run to tie the score and two to win the game!" was the cry from the visitors.

"Lam out a couple of homers!"

"Show 'em where the back fence is!"

In that ninth inning Roxley came to the bat with a "do-or-die" look.

"Now watch yourself, Dudley," whispered Bob to the pitcher. "Don't let them rattle you."

"They are not going to rattle me," answered Dudley. Yet it was plainly to be seen that the sophomore was nervous, and that the strain of the situation was beginning to tell upon him. Nevertheless, amid a wild cheering on the part of Brill, he struck out the first man up.

"That's the way to do it, Brill!"

"It's all over but the shouting!" shrieked one Brill sympathizer.

"Not much! Here is where we make half a dozen runs!" yelled a Roxleyite.

The next batter up was a notoriously hard hitter. Dudley was afraid to give him something easy, and as a consequence the pitcher had four balls called on him and the batter went to first. Then came a drive to center field which took the man on first to second, while the batter reached first with ease.

"That's the way to do it, Roxley! Now you've got 'em going!"

With only one man out and two men on bases, Jack Dudley was more nervous than ever. Yet Bob did not have the heart to take him out of the box, and, besides, he had no pitcher on hand who was any better.

"Hold 'em down, Dudley! Hold 'em down!" pleaded the captain. "Don't feed 'em any easy ones." And the pitcher nodded grimly, being too nervous to even answer.

A ball was called and then a strike. Then Dudley fed the batter a straight one. Crack! The ashen stick met the sphere and sent it along just inside the third base line.

"Run! Everybody run!" was the yell from the Roxley contingent, and while the batter dropped his stick and sped toward first, the man on that bag legged it for second and the man on second rushed madly toward third.

For one brief instant it looked as if one, and possibly two, runs would be scored. But then, Sam, playing a little off third, made a wild leap into the air and pulled down the ball. Next, like a flash, he tagged the man sliding in toward the third bag.