“Humph!” growled Lieutenant Lawrence, in keen displeasure.  “Then, if we lose to-day, the first class can blame itself!”

“You think our battery pair better than the Navy’s, then?” asked Lieutenant Denton.

“Our men would have been better, by a shade, anyway, had they
been as long in training.   But as it is-----”

“As it is,” supplied another officer in the group, “we are wiped off the slate by the Navy, this year, and no one can know it better than we do ourselves.”

Just as the fortunes of war would have it, Dan Dalzell again stood by the plate at the beginning of the eighth.

“Wipe off that smile, Danny boy,” called Darrin softly.

But Dan only shook his head with a deepening grin which seemed to declare that he found the Navy situation all to the good.

In fact, Dalzell felt such a friendly contempt for poor old Dick’s form by this time, that he cheerily offered at Dick’s first.

Crack!  That ball arched up for right field, and Dan, hurling his bat, started to make tracks and time.  Beckwith, however, was out in right field, and knew what was expected of him.  He ran in under that dropping ball, held out his hands and gathered it in.

Dick smiled quietly, almost imperceptibly, while Dan strolled mournfully back to the bench.  Then Prescott turned, bent on annihilating his good old friend Darrin, if possible.  In great disgust, Dave struck out.  The look on the Navy fan’s faces could be interpreted only as saying: 

“Oh, well, we don’t need runs, anyway!”

But when Hutchins struck out—–­one, two, three!—–­after as many offers, Navy faces began to look more grave.

“Hold ’em down, Navy—–­hold ’em down!” rang the appeal from Navy seats when the Army went to bat in the eighth.

Dick was first at bat now, with Greg on deck.  As Prescott swung the willow and eyed Darrin, there was “blood” in the Army pitcher’s eyes.

Then Darrin gave a sudden gasp, for, at his first delivery, Dick sized up the ball, located it, and punched it.  That ball dropped in center field just as Dick was turning the first bag.  It sped on, but Dick turned back from too big a risk.

But he looked at Greg, waiting idly at bat, and Holmes caught the full meaning of that appealing look.

“It’s now or never,” growled Greg between his teeth.  “It’s seldom any good to depend at all on the ninth inning.”

Darrin, with a full knowledge of what was threatened to the Navy by the present situation, tried his best to rattle Greg.  And one strike was called on Holmesy, but the second strike he called himself by some loud talk of bat against leather.  Then, while the ball sped into right field, Greg ran after it, stopping, however, at first bag, while Prescott sprinted down to second bag, kicked it slightly, and came back to it.

It was up to Lanton, of the Army, now!  In this crisis the Army first baseman either lacked true diamond nerve, or else he could not see Darrin’s curves well, for Lanton took the call of two strikes before he was awarded called balls enough to permit him to lope contentedly away to first.  This advanced both Dick and Greg.