tantalizing. The bat swung around—and the ball dropped safely into the catcher's hands.
"Three strikes! Batter out!"
Oak Hall had won the game!
Almost before they knew it, the home club was surrounded, and Dave was perched up on the shoulders of his friends. Yells and cheers rent the air anew, and the rattles and horns added to the general din. In the vigor of his applause Oliver Wadsworth smashed his cane to bits, and in the excitement Professor Potts waved the rim off of his old silk hat.
"But I don't care," said the old professor, gazing at the ruined headgear. "It was worth it! Dave's a—a——"
"A boy out of a thousand!" finished the manufacturer. "I'm proud of him."
"Oh, I say, boys, let me down!" pleaded Dave, gazing around helplesly. "I didn't do so much—really, I didn't!"
"Didn't do much?" cried Ben. "Why, Dave, you won the game!" And then he proposed three cheers for Dave, and they were given with a will.
The only boys who did not relish the victory were Gus Plum and Nat Poole, and when they sneered at Dave they were run off the field, and had to hide, for fear of another attack.
Although they had lost, the Rockville club took their defeat like good fellows. They had been in-
