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THE RIVAL PITCHERS

delivered his most effective curves, but the cheering that resulted when he had struck his third man out, without allowing a player to get to third base, must have warmed his heart.

"A ten-inning game!" was the cry, for the score still stood tie. Over in the grandstand Ford Fenton, who was cheer leader, called for the "Brace, brace, brace" song and it came in a mighty chorus.

"Only one run! only one!" pleaded hundreds of Randall lads. "One run to beat 'em, and then Tom Parsons will strike 'em out!"

Tom heard it and smiled. His arm had been given another rubbing, and though it pained him, he went to the bat first in the tenth inning with a confident step. Somewhere on the grandstand he knew a girl was watching him, and he tried to single her out. Could that be she standing up and waving a yellow and maroon flag at him? He hoped so, and he gritted his teeth, resolving to hit the ball for all that was in him.

There was a steely look in the pitcher's eye as he delivered a vicious ball to Tom. Tom saw it coming and stepped up to it. He remembered a former experience. His bat got under it and he lifted and hit it outwardly in a long, upward curve.

"Too high! too high! He's gone!" murmured Kindlings sadly, but Tom was off for first like a deer. In some unaccountable manner the right fielder muffed the ball and there were groans of