The next youth up knocked a foul, which was caught by the third baseman, and this brought the inning to a close.
"Now, fellows, we have got to make seven runs," said Phil, earnestly.
"I wish we could make two or three," said the shortstop.
"Come on and make eight," said Shadow, as he walked to the plate. He was growing desperate, and made a wild pass at the first ball pitched. Then he struck again and managed to reach first on a fumbled grounder.
As before, Roger followed, and he also got to first, while Shadow advanced to third. Then Dave came up.
"There is the new pitcher," cried several. "He is sure to be struck out."
Dave heard these remarks and they made his face burn. Come what might he determined that he would not miss the ball. He must knock a foul, if nothing else.
As luck would have it, the first ball sent in was too high, but it was, nevertheless, called a strike. Then came a second, just where Dave wanted it. Whack! He struck it fairly and squarely, and out it sailed to deep center.
"Hurrah! Run, Dave, run!" was the cry. "Come in, Shadow! Come in, Roger!" And Shadow and Roger did come in, running as if for
