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THE RIVAL PITCHERS

"And bring megaphones," declared Jerry Jackson.

"And phonographs," echoed his twin brother.

"Win the games, that's what you want to do!" said Mr. Lighton. "Win the games! Play ball! Bat your best, you hard hitters. You that aren't so sure, practice. Fielders, get on to every fly as if you had glue on your gloves. Kerr, play close up to the bat. Henderson, you want to practice jumping for high ones, for they do come high when the boys get excited. Langridge——"

"Yes, what about me?" drawled the pitcher.

"Pitch your very best," said Mr. Lighton, and there was a different meaning in his admonition than before. "Now don't let any chance go by without practice," he added as he turned toward the other members of the nine. "We've got our work cut out for us. I want to see Randall win the pennant."

"So do we!" shouted the others in a chorus as the coach left them.

And the days that followed were filled with anxiety and anticipation for the members of the nine and those substitutes who hoped for a chance to play. As for Tom Parsons, he felt that if he could pitch in one of the games he would ask for nothing more. But he had small hopes.