Bases full—–­no outs!  Three runs needed!

This was the throbbing situation that confronted Cadet Carter as he picked up an Army bat and stood by the plate, facing the “wicked” and well-nigh invincible Darrin of the Navy!

CHAPTER XX

THE VIVID FINISH OF THE GAME

On both sides of the field, every one was standing on seats.

Even the cadets had risen to their feet, every man’s eye turned on the diamond, while the cadet cheer-master danced up and down, ready to spring the yell of triumph if only Carter and the player on deck could give the chance.

Lieutenant Lawrence wiped his perspiring face and neck.  The coach probably suffered more than any other man on the field.  It was his work that had prepared for this supreme game of the whole diamond season!

Over at third base Cadet Prescott danced cautiously away, yet every now and then stole nearly back.  Dick was never going to lose a scored run through carelessness.

“Now, good old Carter, can’t you?” groaned Durville, as the Army batsman went forward to the plate.

“Durry, I’ll come home with my shield, or on it,” muttered Carter, with set teeth and white lips as he went to pick up the bat that he was to swing.

Carter was not one of the best stick men of the Army baseball outfit, but there is sometimes such a thing as batting luck.  For this, Carter prayed under his breath.

Darrin, of course, was determined to baffle this strong-hope man of West Point.  He sent in one of his craftiest outshoots.  For a wonder, Carter guessed it, and reached out for it—–­but missed.

“Strike two!” followed almost immediately from the placid’s umpire’s lips.

Everyone who hoped for the Army was trembling now.

Dan Dalzell did some urgent signaling.  In response, Darrin took an extra hard twist around the leather, unwound, unbent and let go.

Crack!  Batter’s luck, and nothing else!

“Carter, Carter, Carter!” broke loose from the mouths of half a thousand gray-clad cadets, and the late anxious batter was sprinting for all there was in him.

Just to right of center field, and past, went the ball—–­a good old two-bagger for any player that could run.

From third Dick came in at a good jog, but he did not exert himself.  He had seen how long it must take to get the ball in circulation.

As for Holmes, he hit a faster pace.  He turned on steam, just barely touching third as he turned with no thought of letting up this side of the home plate.

Lanton made third—–­he had to, for Carter was bent on kicking the second bag in time.

Had there been another full second to spare Carter would have made it.  But Navy center field judged that it would be far easier to put Carter out than to play that trick on Lanton, since the latter had but ninety feet to run, anyway.