"Well, I've told you enough times, anyway, Tom. So if you----"

"Don't say another word, or you'll make me weep," said Tom, and drew
down his face soberly. "Why, my dear fellow, I wouldn't hurt your
feelings, not for the world and a big red apple thrown in. But what I
was going to say was this: Are you going to play on our baseball team
this Spring? Somebody said you were going to pitch for us," and Tom
looked very much in earnest.

"Me pitch for you?" queried William Philander. "Why, who told you such
a story as that?"

"It's all over college, Tubbs, all over college. You must be
practicing pitching in private."

"But I don't know a thing about pitching. In fact, I don't know much
about baseball," pleaded the dudish student."

"Oh, come now, Tubbs-- you can't fool me. Most likely you have been
practicing in private, and when you come out on the diamond you will
astonish everybody. Well, I am glad to know that Brill College is
really to have a first-class pitcher at last. We need it if we are
going to win any baseball games.

"Now, Tom, I tell you that I don't know----"

"Oh, you can't fool me, William," declared Tom, positively. "I got the
information straight, and I know it is absolutely correct. You are
booked as the head pitcher for Brill this season." And thus speaking,
Tom turned on his heel and walked off, leaving William Philander Tubbs
much perplexed.

  CHAPTER V

 THREE LETTERS

A new idea had entered Tom's mind, and he lost no time in carrying it
out. Meeting Bob Grimes and Stanley Browne, he drew them quickly to
one side and mentioned the talk he had had with William Philander.

"Now, carry it along," he concluded. "If you do it properly, we'll
have a barrel of fun out of it."

"Right you are!" returned Bob, and Stanley winked knowingly. Then Tom
hurried off, to interview several others of the students, principally
those who were interested in the Brill baseball nine.

Just before the bell rang for breakfast, William Philander found
himself confronted by Bob, who shook hands cordially. "This is the
best news yet, William," said the baseball leader, heartily. "I have
been wondering what we were going to do for a pitcher this season."

"Yes, it's all to the merry," put in Stanley, who had come up with
Bob. "But tell us privately, William, are you going to depend on a
straight ball and speed, or are you going to give them some curves and
fadeaways?"

"Now, see here!" spluttered the dudish student. "I am not a baseball
pitcher, and I want. you to----"

"Oh, William, don't try that game on us! '" burst out Stanley. "We
know that you have been practicing pitching for the past two months;
that you took lessons from one of the greatest ball twirlers in the
Western League. Of course, we understand that you wanted to surprise
us; and I must confess, it is a surprise."

"But a mighty agreeable one," came from Spud, who had joined the
crowd, while Tom hovered behind William Philander, grinning broadly
over what was taking place. "Brill has wanted a really great pitcher
for years. Of course, we have won some victories with ordinary
pitchers, but the moment I heard that you had taken to twirling the
sphere, I said to all my friends; 'This is the year that Brill is
going to come out on top.' My dear Tubbs, I think we ought to get down
on our knees, and thank you for doing this much for our college. I am
sure the board of directors, when they hear of this, will certainly
give you a vote of thanks, because success in baseball and other
athletic sports is what makes a college in these days. And you are
taking up the sport in such a thoroughly systematic manner

"Oh, my dear fellow!" pleaded William Philander, frantically. "This is
all some dreadful mistake, don't you know. How it came about, I can't
imagine, but I haven't----"

"It's no use, fellows. He simply won't acknowledge it yet," broke in
another student.

"We'll have to wait until he comes out on the diamond in his new
uniform," added still another.

"Anyway, William, you might tell us whether you are going to use a
straight ball or a curve and the fadeaway," pleaded Stanley.

"He is going to keep that a secret, so as to fool our opponents,"
broke in Tom. "And he'll fool them all right enough, you can depend on
W. P. Tubbs every time."

"Three cheers for W. P.!" cried Spud. "Now, then, boys, altogether: W.
P., the champion pitcher of Brill College!"

A cheer and a yell rent the air, and brought a great number of other
students to that part of the campus. In a twinkling, William Philander
was completely surrounded.

"What's it all about?"

"Is it a fight?"

"Who are they cheering?"

"It's all about Mr. W. P. Tubbs, Esq.," cried Tom, loudly. "Our new,
double back-action, warranted, baseball twirler; the man who is going
to shoot 'em over the plate in such a marvelous fashion that our
rivals will go down and out in one, two, three order."

At his announcement, a great hubbub arose on all sides.

"Tubbs! is he a baseball pitcher?"

"I didn't know he knew a thing about baseball."

"That dude launching a fadeaway? That gets me!"

"Where did he learn to pitch?"

"Who put him on the team?"

"Say, Tubbs, explain this, won't you?" This last remark came from four
students in unison.

"You let me out of this!" cried the dudish student in despair. "It's
all some horrid joke! I am not going to pitch! I don't know anything
about pitching! I don't know hardly anything about baseball! I don't
want to play! Why, when a fellow falls down running around the bases,
he is apt to get all dirty! You let me out of this!" And so speaking,
William Philander Tubbs pushed his way out of the crowd, and fairly
ran for the nearest of the school buildings.

"I guess that will hold W. P. for a while," was Tom's comment, as the
tall student vanished.

"Good joke, Tom!" returned Bob.

"What's the matter with keeping it up?" added Spud. "Don't let him
know the truth. Maybe some day we can drag him out on the diamond."

"All right," answered Tom. "I'll do it;" and then, as the bell rang
for breakfast, all of the students hurried inside.

Some days passed, and during that time the Rover boys waited anxiously
for some news from their brother Dick, and also for word from Hope
Seminary. In the meantime, the lads had settled down to the usual
grind of college life, and were doing as well as could be expected
considering the interruptions their studies had suffered.

The Rover boys had already learned that the bridge across the Paxton
River had been repaired. The automobile, which had gone into the
stream, had been found intact, only needing some cleaning to make it
once more useable. It had been taken to the hotel garage. The young
man, who had been thrown into the stream at the time, was still in bed
under the doctor's care. Evidently, the shock to his system had been
more severe than had been at first supposed.

"Letters at last!" cried Tom, on the third morning, as he came in,
holding up several epistles. One was from Grace, another from Nellie,
and still a third from Dick.

As might have been expected, the boys opened the letters from the
girls first.

"Nothing new in this," remarked Tom, somewhat disappointedly, after
having read what Nellie had written. "She says that the diamond ring
has not yet been found, and that everything is at a standstill
concerning it."

"Grace says practically the same thing," returned Sam. "She adds that
Nellie is very much downcast, and she thinks that, while her friends
all stand by her, some of the girls are giving her the cold shoulder."

"It's an outrage! Oh, Sam, I wish I could do something!" And unable to
control his feelings, Tom clenched his hands and began to pace the
floor.

"It certainly is the meanest thing I ever heard of, Tom. But I don't
see what we can do. In fact, I don't see what anybody can do. The
seminary management must have made a thorough investigation, and if
they haven't discovered anything, I don't see how an outsider can
solve the mystery."

"Maybe they ought to shadow some of the hired help, or something like
that."

"They may be doing that, Tom. They certainly won't let a
four-hundred-dollar ring get away from them without making the biggest
kind of an effort to find out where it went. But open that letter from
Dick, and see what he has to say."

The communication was torn open, and Tom glanced over it hastily.

"Here's a surprise, Sam," he cried. "Well, what do you know about
this!" And he read as follows:

  "I have something of a surprise for you. In coming to a settlement
  with Pelter, Japson & Company, they notified me that they were
  going out of business in New York City. Pelter claims that our
  exposing the firm practically ruined them, and at the present time
  there is still due father a matter of about fifteen hundred
  dollars, which they seem unable to pay. Both Pelter and Japson have
  offered to turn over to us the entire contents of their offices in
  Wall Street, along with their lease. I don't think the outfit is
  worth the fifteen hundred dollars, but when you can't get all that
  is coming to you, the next best thing is to take what you can get.
  I am writing to father about this, and if he agrees with me, I
  shall take the lease of the offices, and also the outfit, which
  includes several desks, chairs, a safe and a filing cabinet. Pelter
  says the outfit was new two years ago, so that it is in quite good
  condition.

  "Dora sends her best regards. As you know, we are now installed in
  our suite at the Outlook Hotel, and she spends quite some of her
  time shopping and looking around the city. I have gone out with her
  a few times, but spend most of my time in straightening out these
  financial matters, and in taking care of father's other
  investments. Mr. Powell, the lawyer, is assisting me to unravel the
  tangle, but it is hard work, and I often wish that one or both of
  you were here to help me. Remember me to all the boys and likewise
  to Grace and Nellie.

  "By the way, I understand that Josiah Crabtree is soon to leave the
  hospital. His leg was so badly broken that he will have to walk
  with either a crutch or a couple of canes. In one way, I feel sorry
  for the old fellow, but he brought the accident on himself. What a
  shame that a man with his education couldn't have remained honest
  and straightforward.

  "As I said above, Pelter, Japson & Company, are going to give up
  business here. Just the same, I don't like Pelter's actions at all.
  I think he is a bad one through and through-- much worse than
  Japson-- who is more weak than wicked. I am going to keep my eyes
  open whenever Pelter is around."

Both boys read this communication from Dick with deep interest. Then
Sam read the letter a second time and looked thoughtfully at Tom.

"I don't think Dick is having any easy time of it," was his sober
comment.

"Just what I have been thinking all along, Sam. When Dick says he
wishes he had one or both of us with him, he means it. Just as soon as
the college term comes to a close, I am going to New York."

"Well, I'll go with you," returned Sam. "I did think we might go on
some kind of an outing during July and August, but it wouldn't be fair
to take the time off and leave Dick at the grind alone."

"Of course, I think we ought to go home first," continued Tom, after a
pause. "The folks will want to see us, and, besides, we will want to
talk matters over with dad, and also with Uncle Randolph. They may
want to tell us something about the business."

"Do you think that Uncle Randolph had much money invested with
father?"

"I don't know exactly what to think, Sam. Uncle Randolph is very
peculiar, and since father has been sick again, he has not wanted to
talk matters over very much. We will have to be careful of what we say
when we get home. It won't do, so the doctor said, to excite him too
much."

"Oh, I know that as well as you do. In fact, it might be best not to
mention business to dad at all. You must remember that this is the
third breakdown he has had since we came to Brill, and another such
turn might prove serious."

"Oh, don't talk like that! It makes me shiver to think of it. What in
the world would we do if anything happened to poor, dear dad!"

"If only Uncle Randolph was more of a business man, he might go to New
York and help Dick; but you know how he is all wrapped up in what he
calls 'scientific farming.' Of course, it doesn't amount to a hill of
beans, but he thinks it does, and he spends a great deal of money on
it that might be put to better usage."

"Well, it's his own money, you must remember, and he has a right to do
what he pleases with it. But for gracious sake! don't get him to go to
New York. It would only mix up matters worse than ever. Dick would not
only have to take care of the business, but he would also have to take
care of Uncle Randolph. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to leave Aunt
Martha to look after dad, alone." And there, for the time being, the
talk on personal matters came to an end.

  CHAPTER VI

 BASEBALL TALK

With so many other affairs to claim our attention, I have purposely
avoided going into the details of the baseball season at Brill that
year. As my old readers know, the college had a baseball nine and a
football eleven, and both had, at various times, done well at one
sport or the other.

This particular year, baseball matters had not gone as well as had
been expected. In the first place, several of the best players on the
nine had graduated the year before and left the college. Then had come
a long wet spell, during which time only some indoor practice in the
gymnasium could be attempted. Thus, at the opening of the season, the
nine possessed four players who had hitherto played only on the scrub,
and the whole team lacked the practice that was essential to success.
The most serious loss was in the battery, both the pitcher and catcher
of the year previous having left the college. Bob Grimes, who played
at shortstop, was the captain, and after a good many tryouts, he had
put Spud Jackson in as catcher. For pitcher, there were three
candidates: a lad named Bill Harney, who was a tall junior; a much
smaller chap who had come from Yale, named Dare Phelps; and Tom, who
had been pushed forward by a number of his friends. Tom had thought to
pay strict attention to his studies for the remainder of the term, but
finally agreed to accept the position if it was offered to him.

"I think you are going to make it, Tom," said Songbird one day after
Tom had been pitching on the regular team against Bill Harney, who had
been pitching on the scrub. Tom had managed to hold the scrub down to
three hits, while Harney had allowed fourteen hits, one of which had
been turned by the batter into a home run.

"Oh, I don't know about that," replied Tom. "Harney isn't so bad. He
had a little ill luck to-day, that's all. And then, don't forget
Phelps."

"I'm not forgetting either of them. Just the same, I think you are
going to make the nine."

The next day, Tom was put in as pitcher on the scrub, while Dare
Phelps occupied the box for the regular nine. For the first six
innings, it was a nip-and-tuck battle between the two pitchers. But
from that time on, Dare Phelps seemed to go to pieces, while Tom
struck out man after man. As a result, the score at the end of the
game stood 4 to 10 in favor of the scrub.

"Tom, I think that settles it!" cried his brother, as he rushed up and
took the other by the shoulder. "You certainly held them down in great
shape."

"And say, didn't the scrub bang Phelps all over the diamond!" broke in
another student. "My, he must feel pretty sore!" And evidently this
was true, because a minute later Dare Phelps left the diamond and
disappeared from view. Nearly everybody in the college had watched the
games between the scrub and the regular nine; and that night the
concensus of opinion seemed to be that Tom ought to pitch for the
regular team.

"You'll have to do it, Tom," said Bob Grimes, when he called on the
older Rover in the morning. "Phelps acknowledges that you are a better
pitcher than he is, and I think Bill Harney will have to do the same."

"Better wait and see how I pitch in one of the regular games,"
returned Tom, modestly. "For all you know, I may go to pieces."

"Nonsense, Tom! I know you too well for that," and Bob grinned
broadly. "We'll show Roxley College this year what we can do."

Every year there were two contests between Brill and Roxley, a rival
college located some miles away. One contest was at baseball, and the
other football. During the past Fall, Roxley had suffered its second
defeat on the gridiron at the hands of Brill. But the Spring previous,
its baseball nine had literally "wiped up the diamond" with Brill by a
score of 6 to 0. My, readers can, therefore, well imagine how anxious
the baseball management was to win the game scheduled to come off in
about a week.

Since returning to college from his trip to New York, and then the
longer trip to Alaska, Sam had given almost his entire time to his
studies. He was quite a baseball player, but he felt that to play on
the regular team would take too much of his time.

"If you are going to leave college this June, it won't make so much
difference whether you pass with flying colors or not, Tom," he said.
"But if I am to return in the Fall, I want to make sure that I am not
going to do so under conditions."

"But, Sam, I don't see why you can't play a game or two," persisted
Tom. "It doesn't seem natural for you to keep out of it altogether."

"Well, I have played some on the scrub."

"Oh, I know, but that isn't like going in for the regular thing. You
could be on the regular team if you really wanted to."

This matter was talked over several times, but Sam refused to be
entirely persuaded. He, however, finally agreed to go on the bench as
a substitute, provided Bob would not ask him to play any inside
position. By a toss-up, it had been decided that the game should take
place on the Roxley grounds. As a consequence, the boys of Brill and
their friends would have to go to the other college either by train
from Ashton, or in automobiles or some other kinds of conveyances.

"Of course, we'll take the girls, Tom," said Sam, in talking the
matter over. "We can go over to Hope in the auto for them, and I think
it would be nice if we took Songbird along and stopped at the
Sanderson cottage for Minnie."

"All right, that suits me," replied Tom, "Let us ask Songbird about
it."

Of course the would-be poet was delighted, and he at once sent a note
to Minnie, asking her to be ready when the auto arrived. The girls at
Hope were communicated with over the telephone.

"I'm afraid it's going to rain," said Spud, on the evening before the
great game was to take place. And Spud was right. By nine o'clock it
was raining steadily.

"Just our confounded luck!" muttered Songbird, as he paced up and down
the room which he and half a dozen others were occupying. "Now, I
suppose that game and our nice auto ride will be all knocked in the
head."

"Don't worry so early," returned Sam, cheerfully. "I don't think this
is anything more than a shower, and we need that to lay the dust." Sam
proved to be right, for before some of the boys retired, the rain had
stopped coming down, and one by one the stars began to appear. In the
morning, the sun came up as bright as ever, and by ten o'clock the
ground was as dry as any one could wish. The day was a Saturday, and,
of course, a holiday both at Brill and Roxley. By eleven o'clock, a
carryall had taken a large number of the students to Ashton, where
they were to take a special train for Roxley. All of the automobiles
at Brill were in use, and with them all of the turnouts that could be
hired in the vicinity.

"No time to spare!" sang out Tom, as he ran the automobile up to the
college steps.

"I am ready," said Sam, who had a dresssuit case with Tom's uniform
and his own in it.

"Where is Songbird?"

"I don't know, I thought he was with you."

"Here I am!" came the cry, and the would-be poet of the college came
rushing across the campus. He was dressed in his very best suit, and
wore a rose in his buttonhole.

"Wait! I almost forgot the horns!" cried Sam, and he darted back into
the building, to reappear a few seconds later with several long tin
horns. Into the automobile piled the boys, and then, with a loud
sounding of the horn, Tom turned on the power, and the machine started
off in the direction of Hope, soon reaching the spot where the
automobile had gone into the river.

"That poor chap didn't hurt his machine much. so I have heard,"
remarked Sam, as they bowled along over the bridge. "But, I think it
might have been better if he had come out of it scott free, and the
auto had gone to pieces."

"We ought to call on him, Sam," returned Tom. "I would like to find
out whether or not he is related to Jesse Pelter."

"Oh, don't bother about that to-day. Let your, mind rest on the game--
and the girls," and Sam grinned faintly.

The run to the seminary did not take long. The Laning girls stood
waiting on the porch, and once they were in the car, the machine was
headed in the direction of the Sanderson cottage.

Nellie occupied the front seat with Tom, while Sam was in the tonneau
with Grace and Songbird. The younger girl was in her usual happy mood,
but Nellie's face showed worriment.

"Have you heard anything more about the missing ring?" questioned Tom,
while on the way to the Sanderson farmhouse.

"Not a thing, Tom," answered Nellie, soberly.

"Of course they have questioned the hired help?"

"Yes. And they have also questioned a number of the teachers and the
students."

"Has Miss Harrow said anything more about it to you?"

"No, but every time we meet, she gives me such a cold look that it
fairly makes me shiver. Oh, Tom, sometimes I don't know how I am going
to stand it!" And now the girl showed signs of breaking down.

"There, there! Don't think about it any more, Nellie-- at least, for
to-day. Think of the jolly good time we are going to have and how we
are going to defeat Roxley."

"Do you think Brill will win, Tom? I heard some of the girls at Hope
say that they were sure Roxley would come out ahead. They said they
have an unusually strong nine this year, and that they have already
won some games from the strongest nines around here."

"Well, that is true. Nevertheless, we hope to come out ahead."

"Sure we'll come out ahead!" cried Songbird. "With Tom in the box it's
a cinch."

"Just what I say," broke in Sam. "Tom has got some curves that are
bound to fool them."

In order to make time, Tom had put on nearly all the speed of which
the car was capable, and in a short while they came in sight of the
Sanderson farm. Mr. Sanderson was at work in an apple orchard near by,
and waved his hand to them as the machine drew up to the horse-block.

"Better come along," sang out Sam, gaily.

"I wouldn't mind a-seein' the game," returned the old farmer. "But
I've promised to pick these early apples and ship 'em. I wish you boys
luck." And then he brought over a pail full of apples, and dumped them
in the tonneau of the car. Minnie, looking as fresh and sweet as ever,
was on the piazza, and when the car stopped she hurried down the
garden walk. Songbird leaped out and helped her in beside Grace,
shaking hands at the same time.

"Good gracious, Pa! how could you do so?" said Minnie, reproachfully,
as she stepped between the apples.

"Oh, I thought as how ye might git hungry on th' way," returned Mr.
Sanderson, with a broad grin. "If ye don't want to eat them, you feed
your hosses on 'em." And he laughed at his little' joke.

"We'll eat them fast enough don't worry," cried Sam, and then, with a
toot of the horn, the automobile proceeded on its way to Roxley.

  CHAPTER VII

 THE GREAT BASEBALL GAME

"Some crowd, this!"

"Well, I should say so! Say, this is the biggest crowd we ever had at
any game."

"And look at the new grandstand, all decked out in flags and banners!"

"And look at the automobiles! We'll have to hurry up, or all the
parking space will be gone."

"Hurrah, Brill! Come down here to see us defeat you, eh?" And a merry
looking student, wearing the colors of Roxley on his cap, and waving a
Roxley banner in his hand, grinned broadly at Tom and the others.

"No, we came to bury you," retorted Sam. "It's all over but the
shouting." And then he took up one of the horns he had brought, and
sounded it loudly.

"Better let me take the car to the other end of the grounds,"
suggested Songbird. "You fellows will want to get into your uniforms
and into practice."

"Oh, we want to get good seats for the girls first," broke in Tom. "It
won't take long to park the machine."

In a moment more, they found themselves in a perfect jam of touring
cars, motor cycles, and carriages. Finding a suitable spot, Tom
brought the touring car to a standstill, turned off the power, and
placed the starting plug in his pocket. Then the entire party made its
way as rapidly as possible to the grandstand, one-half of which had
been reserved for the students of Brill and their friends. Here
Songbird took charge of matters.

"Just leave it all to me," he said. "You fellows go in and win."

"Yes, you must win, by all means, Tom!" cried Nellie. "Just remember
that I've got my eye on you."

"Yes, we all want you to win," came from Minnie Sanderson. "I am going
to root-- isn't that the right word?-- for all I know how."

"That's the word!" cried Sam. "I declare, before you get through,
you'll be a regular baseball fan!" And at this sally there was a
general laugh.

Tom and Sam would have liked it had they been able to stay with the
girls longer, but the other members of the team were already in the
dressing room, donning their uniforms, and thither the Rovers made
their way. A short while later, the word was passed around, and the
Brill team marched out on the grounds for practice; even Sam, as a
substitute, taking part. Evidently, the outsiders living in that
vicinity were of the opinion that the game would be well worth seeing,
for long after the grandstand and the bleachers were filled, the crowd
kept coming in the several gates.

"My, but this is going to be the banner game so far as attendance
goes," remarked Sam to Bob.

"Yes, and it will bring us in a neat bit of money," returned the Brill
captain.

"How are they going to divide this year?"

"One-third and two-thirds," returned Bob; meaning thereby that the
winning team would take two-thirds of the receipts, and the losing
team the remaining third. This money, of course, did not go to the
individual players, but was put into the general athletic fund of each
college.

Roxley won the toss, and as a consequence, Brill went to bat first. As
the first man took his position, there were cries of all sorts,
mingled with the tooting of many horns and the sounds of numerous
rattles.

"Now then, Brill, show 'em what you can do!"

"Knock a home run first thing!"

"Don't let 'em see first, Roxley! Kill 'em at the plate!"

The Roxley pitcher took his position, wound up; and the ball came in
quickly.

"Ball one."

"That's right! Make him give you a good one."

Again the ball came in, and this time, as it was a fairly good one,
the batter swung for it, and missed.

"Strike one."

"That's the talk, give him another like that, Carson!"

Again the ball came whizzing over the plate. The batsman struck it
fairly, and it sailed down toward second base. The runner was off like
a shot, but it availed him nothing. The second baseman caught the fly
with ease.

"Hurray! One down! Now for the other two!"

The second man at the bat went out in one-two-three order. Then the
third player up knocked a short fly to first.

"Three out. That's the way to do it, Roxley!"

"Now, for a few runs!"

It must be confessed that Tom was a trifle nervous when he took the
ball and walked down to the box. The eyes of over twelve hundred
spectators were on him, and those included the eyes of the girl he
thought the dearest in all the world. He gave a short sigh, and then
suddenly braced up. "I've got to do it," he muttered to himself. "I've
simply got to!"

As was to be expected, Roxley had its best batters on the top of the
list. The first fellow to face Tom was a hitter well-known for his
prowess. As Tom had heard that this man loved a low ball, he purposely
sent in the sphere rather high.

"One ball."

"That's right, Clink! Make him give you what you want."

The next ball was intended for an out-curve, but, somehow, Tom missed
it, and it came in fairly over the plate. Crack! The bat connected
with it, and away the sphere sailed to center field.

"Run, run!" The cry echoed from all sides, and, almost in a twinkling,
Clink was down to first, and racing for second. Then, feeling that he
had time to go further, he bounded onward, and slid safely to third.

"That's the way to do it! Look, a three-bagger!"

"Hurray! We've got them on the run; keep it up, boys!" And then the
air was rent with the noise of horns and rattles.

"Steady, Tom, steady," whispered Bob, as he walked toward the pitcher.
"Don't let them rattle you; take your time."

"They are not going to rattle me," returned Tom, and set his teeth
hard. He faced the new batsman, and then, of a sudden, twirled around
and sent the ball whizzing to third.

"Look out! look out!" yelled the coach at third, and Clink dropped and
grabbed the sack just in the nick of time. Then Tom went for the
batter. One strike was called, and then two balls, and then another
strike, and a ball.

"Don't walk him, Tom, whatever you do," said Spud, as he came down to
consult with the pitcher.

"All right. What do you think I ought to give him?"

"Try him on an in-shoot."

Once again, Tom sent the ball over to third, almost catching Clink
napping as before. Then, the instant he had the sphere once more in
his possession, he sent it swiftly in over the plate.

"Three strikes! Batter out!"

"Good for you, Rover! That's the way to do it!"

"Now kill the other two, Tom!"

But to "kill the other two" was not so easy. The next man went out on
a pop fly to third, which held Clink where he was. Following that came
a safe hit which took the batter to first and allowed Clink to slide
in with the first run. For the moment pandemonium seemed to break
loose. The Roxley cohorts cheered wildly and sounded their horns and
rattles. Brill, of course, had nothing to say.

"Oh, Songbird, they got in a run!" remarked Nellie, much dismayed.

"Well, the game is young yet," returned the Brill student.
Nevertheless, he felt much crestfallen to think that Roxley had scored
first.

With one run in, and a man on first, Roxley went to the bat with more
confidence than ever. But it availed nothing, for Tom finished the
inning with the Roxley runner getting no further than second.

"Now, boys, we've got to do something," said the Brill captain, when
the nine came in. "Two runs at least, and three if we can possibly get
them."

"What's the matter with half a dozen, while we are at it?" laughed the
second baseman.

"All right. As many as you please," returned Bob.

But it was not to be. With all her efforts, Brill managed, during this
inning, to get no further than third. Tom came in for a try at the
bat, but the best he could do was to send up a little pop fly that the
rival pitcher gathered in with ease. Then Roxley came in once more,
and added another run to her credit.

"Hurrah for Roxley! That makes it two to nothing!"

There were looks of grim determination on the faces of the Brill
players when they went to the plate for the third time. The first man
up was struck out, but the second sent a clean drive to left field
that was good for two bases. Then came a sacrifice hit by Spud, that
advanced the runner to third, and on another one-base hit, this run
came in amid a wild cheering by the Brill followers.

"Hurrah! One run in! Now, boys, you've broken the ice, keep it up!"
And then the horns and rattles of the Brillites sounded as loudly as
had those of the Roxley followers a short while before.

But, alas! for the hopes of our friends! The only other run made that
inning was a third by Roxley!

During the fourth inning, Roxley added another run to her score. Brill
did nothing, so that the score now stood 4 to 1 in favor of Roxley.
The fifth inning was a stand-off, neither side scoring. Then came the
sixth, in which Frank Holden, the first baseman, distinguished himself
by rapping out a three-bagger, coming in a few seconds later on a hit
by the man following him.

"Up-hill work, and no mistake!" said the Brill captain, when the team
had come in for the seventh inning.

"See here, Bob, if you think you would rather try some of the other
pitchers----" began Tom.

"Nothing of the sort, old man. You are doing very well. I don't
consider four runs against two any great lead. And you haven't walked
as many men as their pitcher."

The seventh inning brought no change in the score. But in the eighth,
Roxley added another run, bringing her total up to five.

"Looks kind of bad," said Sam, to another substitute on the bench.
"Five to two, and the ninth inning. We've got to play some if we want
to beat them."

"Sam, I want you!" cried Bob, coming up. "Felder has twisted his foot,
and you will have to take his place in left field,"

"Am I to bat in his place?" questioned the youngest Rover.

"Yes."

"All right. I'll do the best I can."

There was silence around the grounds when the Brill team came to the
bat. With the score 5 to 2 in favor of Roxley, it looked rather
dubious for the visitors. Some of the onlookers, thinking the game
practically over, started towards the gates, and the carriages and
automobiles. The first man up was the captain, and he walked to the
plate with a "do or die" look on his face.

"Now, Bob, lam it out for all you are worth!" shouted one of his
admirers.

The first ball sent in was too low, and Bob let it pass him; but the
second was just where he wanted it. The bat swung around like
lightning, and, following a loud crack, the sphere sailed off towards
left field.

"Run, Bob, run!" yelled a great number of his friends, and the captain
let go all the speed that was in him. When the ball finally reached
the diamond, it found Bob safe on third.

"That's the way to open up! Now, then, bring him in!"

This was not so easy. The batter up tried a sacrifice hit, but the
ball rolled down well towards the pitcher, who landed it at first in a
twinkling. Bob attempted to get home, but then thought better of it,
and slid back to third. The next batter up was Sam. He had with him
his favorite ash stick, and, as he stepped behind the plate, he
gritted his teeth and eyed the pitcher closely.

Carson had been practicing on what he called a fadeaway ball, and now
he thought this would be just the right thing to offer Sam. He wound
up with a great flourish, and sent the sphere in.

Sam was on his guard, and calculated just right. His bat came around
in a clean sweep, and on the instant the ball was flying down towards
deep center.

"My! look at that!"

"Run, Rover, run!"

No sooner had the ball connected with the bat, than Bob, at third, was
on his way home. He reached the plate before Sam touched first. Then
Sam, skirting the initial bag, tore straight for second, and then for
third. In the meantime, the fielder was still running after the ball.
As Sam started for home, the fielder managed to capture the sphere,
and threw it with all his skill to the second baseman.

"Run, Sam, run!" yelled Tom, fairly dancing up and down in his
anxiety. "Leg it, old man, leg it!"

And certainly Sam did "leg it" as he never had before. Straight for
the home plate he came, and slid in amid a cloud of dust, just before
the ball came up from the field.

"Hurrah! hurrah! a home run!"

"Now, boys, we've started the ball rolling," cried out Bob. "Remember,
only one more run ties the score."

  CHAPTER VIII

 HOW THE GAME ENDED

The next batter up was plainly nervous. He had two strikes called on
him, and then he knocked a small foul, which was quickly gathered in
by the third baseman. Then Tom came to the bat, and was lucky enough
to make a clean one-base hit. After that, came several base hits in
rapid succession. These brought in not only Tom, but also the man
behind him. Then came a bad fumble on the part of the Roxley
shortstop, and, as a result, another run was put up to the credit of
Brill.

"Seven runs. That's going some!"

"I guess this is Brill's game, after all."

"Make it a round dozen while you're at it, boys."

But this was not to be. The hits for Brill had evidently come to an
end, and the side retired with seven runs to its credit.

"Now, Tom, hold them down if you possibly can," said Bob, as his team
took the field.

"I'll do my level best, Bob," was the reply.

With the score five to seven against them, Roxley put in a
pinch,hitter by the name of Bixby. This player certainly made good,
getting a three-base hit with apparent ease. Then followed an out, and
then another base hit, bringing in Bixby's run. Then followed some
ragged play on the part of Bob and his second and third basemen, which
put out one man, but evened up the score, 7 to 7.

With two men out, and the score a tie, it was certainly a delicate
position for Tom.

"Tom, hold them! please hold them!" pleaded Bob, as he came up. "Don't
let them get as far as first if you can help it."

The batter to face Tom was a fairly good one, but the young pitcher
remembered that this fellow had always struck at balls which were both
high and far out. Accordingly, he fed him only those which were low
and well in, "One strike!"

"That's it, Tom! Keep it up!"

Again Tom wound up, and the ball shot over the plate. This time the
batsman swung for it, but failed to connect.

"Strike two!"

"Good boy, Tom, that's the way to do it!"

"Be careful, Billy, make him give you just what you want!"

Once again Tom wound up, and this time sent the ball in with all the
speed that was left to him. Again the bat came around.

"Strike three! Batter out!"

A wild yell arose. Here was the end of the ninth inning, and the game
was a tie!

"Oh, Songbird! do you think Brill will win?" exclaimed Grace,
anxiously.

"I certainly hope so. We've pulled up pretty well. We had only two
runs when they had five, remember."

"Hasn't Tom pitched pretty well?" questioned Minnie.

"Sure, he has! Those Roxley fellows are great batters. More than once
they have knocked a pitcher clean out of the box."

"Oh, I certainly hope Brill wins," murmured Nellie.

There was an intense silence when the tenth inning opened. Frank came
to the bat first, and knocked a little one, but managed to reach
first. Then, on a sacrifice hit, he advanced to second. Following
that, came a wild throw by the Roxley pitcher, and Frank dusted as
fast as he could for third.

"Now, Carson, hold him!" yelled a number of the Roxley followers to
their pitcher. "Don't let him get in!"

Carson did his best, but with two strikes called on the batter, there
came a neat little one-base hit, and, amid a wild cheering and a grand
tooting of horns and sounding of rattles, Frank slid in to the home
plate.

"Hurrah! hurrah! that makes the score eight to seven!"

"Keep it up, boys! You've got 'em going."

But that was the end of the run making for Brill. The next man was put
out with ease, and the side retired with the score reading: Roxley--
7, Brill-- 8.

"Now, if we can only hold them," was Spud's comment, as he glanced at
Bob and then at Tom. "How about it?" he demanded, of the pitcher.

"I'll do what I can," was Tom's simple answer.

Nearly all the spectators in the grandstand and on the bleachers were
now on their feet. All sorts of cries and suggestions rent the air.
Amid this great hubbub, the Brill nine took their positions, Sam going
down to left field as directed by Bob.

Tom was a trifle pale as he faced the first batter, but, if he was
nervous, the Roxley player was evidently more so. Almost before either
of them knew it, two strikes had been called. Then, however, came a
short hit to third, which the baseman fumbled, and the batter got
safely to first.

"That's the way! Now, keep it up!"

"We only want two runs to win."

The next batter was one that Tom, fortunately, had studied closely.
This man usually waited all he could in the hope of having balls
called on the pitcher. As a consequence, Tom fed him several straight
ones over the plate, and so quickly that two strikes were called
almost before the baseman realized what was occurring. Then, as he
swung at a low one, the third strike was called, and he was declared
out. In the meantime, however, the runner on first had made second.
Then came another out, and then a drive to second, which landed the
batsman on first, but kept the man on second where he was.

"Two men on base!"

"Bring 'em in, Landy! Bang it out for all you are worth!"

"Careful, Tom, careful!" pleaded Bob; and even Spud came down to
interview the pitcher.

"I'm doing all I can," returned Tom.

It must be admitted that Tom's blood was surging wildly. A miss-- and
the game would either become a tie or be won by Roxley.

In came the ball, and the Roxley player swung at it viciously.

"Strike one!"

"Good boy, Tom, keep it up!"

"Strike him out, old man!"

Again Tom twirled the ball and sent it in. Just the instant before it
left his hand, his foot slipped, and the sphere came in, not on a
curve as the young pitcher had intended, but straight. Crack! went the
bat, and in a twinkling the sphere was sailing high in the air toward
left field.

"Hurrah, that's the way to do it!"

"Run, everybody run!"

"Get it, Sam, get it!"

The ball was high in the air and well over Sam's head. The youngest
Rover was running with might and main down left field. The eyes of all
the spectators were on him. On and on, and still on, he sped, with the
ball curving lower, and lower toward the field. Then, just as the
sphere was coming down, Sam made a wild clutch with his left hand and
caught it.

"Batter out!"

"My, what a catch!"

"Wasn't it a beauty!"

"Brill wins the game!"

Such a riot as ensued! Hats and canes were thrown up into the air,
horns tooted loudly, and the noise of the rattles was incessant. The
Brill students fairly danced for joy, and their friends, including the
ladies, were almost equally demonstrative.

"Sam, that's the best catch I ever saw in my life!" cried Bob, as' he
ran forward to grab the young left-fielder by the hand.

"It certainly was, Sam; and you pulled me out of a big hole," came
from Tom. "When I saw that fellow hit the ball, I thought it was all
up with us."

"Some catch, that!" broke in Spud. And all the others on the nine, and
many of Sam's friends, said the same.

Of course, Roxley was tremendously disappointed at the outcome of the
struggle. Nevertheless, as was usual, she cheered her opponent, and
was cheered in return. Then the two teams broke and ran for the
dressing rooms, and the great crowd of spectators began to slowly
disappear.

"Oh, Sam, that catch was too lovely for anything!" cried Grace, when
the two Rover boys had managed to break away from the rest of the team
and their numerous friends, and had rejoined the girls and Songbird.
"Why, do you know, I was on pins and needles when I saw that ball
coming down and you running after it. I was so afraid you wouldn't get
there in time!"

"Well, I just got it, and no more," returned Sam, modestly.

"He pulled me out of a hole," broke in Tom. "If it hadn't been for
Sam, Roxley would have won the game."

"But you did well, Tom,-- better than our other pitchers would have
done," replied his brother, loyally. "Everybody says so. Why, four or
five of those Roxley hitters can knock the ordinary pitcher clean out
of the box."

"Believe me, there will be some celebration to-night!" vouchsafed
Songbird, as his eyes lit up in expectation. "Bonfires, speeches,
parades, and all that."

"Don't I wish I was a college boy, to be there!" returned Minnie,
wistfully.

"Too bad! but no girls are allowed," returned Sam. "Just the same, I
don't think we'll have to get back to the college very early."

It had already been arranged that the Rovers and Songbird and the
three girls should go off on a little automobile trip after the game.
Grace and Nellie had received permission to be absent from Hope during
the supper hour, and Tom had telephoned to the hotel at Cliffwood,
about twenty miles away, asking the proprietor to reserve a table for
them and prepare dinner for six.

Sam was now at the wheel, and as he could handle the car as well as
his brother, the run to Cliffwood did not take long. At the hotel, the
young folks encountered several other parties from Brill and Hope, and
the gathering was, consequently, quite a merry one. Tom had ordered
flowers for the table, and also small bouquets for each of the girls.

"Oh, how perfectly lovely, Tom!" cried Nellie, on catching sight of
the flowers.

"I think the gentlemen ought to have button-hole bouquets," said
Grace.

"All right, I'm willing," returned Sam quickly, and thereupon some of
the flowers from the larger bouquet were speedily transferred to three
coat buttonholes.

It was a lively time all around, for between the courses that were
served, the young folks insisted upon singing some of the Brill and
Hope songs. As it happened, there were no outside guests present, so
the students and their friends could do pretty much as they pleased.

"Sorry, but we've got to start back," said Tom, presently, as he
looked at his watch. "Not but what I'd rather stay here than go to
Brill for the celebration!" and he looked fondly at Nellie.

"What's the matter with my driving the car?" suggested Songbird, who
was well able to perform that service. "You've both had a whack at it;
it seems to me it's my turn now."

Both of the Rovers were willing, and a short time later, with Songbird
at the wheel and Minnie beside him, and the Rovers and the Laning
girls in the tonneau, the touring car left the hotel and started on
the way to the Sanderson cottage and the seminary.

"What's the matter with a song?" cried Sam, as the car sped along.

"Right you are!" returned his brother. "Girls, what shall it be?"

Instead of replying, Nellie started up an old favorite at the college,
sung to the tune of "Camping on the Old Camp Ground." Instantly all of
the others joined in.

"Some song!" exclaimed Tom, after the first verse had come to an end.
"Now then, altogether!" and he waved his hand like a band leader. The
voices of the young people arose sweetly on the evening air, but
hardly had they sung two lines of the second verse, when there came an
unexpected interruption.

Bang! The sound came from below them. Then the touring car suddenly
swerved to the side of the road. Almost as quickly Songbird threw out
the clutch and applied both brakes. They came to a standstill in the
middle of the roadway.

"Oh, Tom! what's the matter?" gasped Nellie "I don't know, but I'm
afraid it's a blowout," was the serious reply.

  CHAPTER IX

 CELEBRATING THE VICTORY,

"Oh, what luck!"

"And just when we wanted to make time, too!"

"I hope it doesn't take us long to put on another tire!"

These remarks came from the three students as they climbed down from
the car to make an examination of the damage done. Sam had secured his
searchlight, but this was hardly needed. One glance at the left-hand
back tire told the story. They had evidently run over something
sharp-- perhaps a piece of glass-- and there was a cut in the shoe at
least three inches long. Through this, the inner tube had blown out
with the report that had so startled them.

"Well, boys, everybody on the job!" cried Tom, and lost no time in
stripping off his coat and donning a jumper, which he carried for use
when working on the car.

"I suppose that's my fault," said Songbird, much crestfallen.

"It might have happened to any of us, Songbird," returned Sam. "Let us
see how quickly we can put on another shoe and inner tube." He, too,
put on a jumper, and in a few minutes the boys had the back axle of
the touring car jacked up.

"You hold the light, Songbird," directed Tom. "Sam and I can do this
work without any help." Then the two Rovers set to work, and in a very
short time the old shoe with its inner tube had been removed. In the
meantime, Songbird had brought out another inner tube, and unstrapped
one of the extra shoes attached to the side of the car, and these were
quickly placed over the wheel rim.

"Now, let me do my share of the pumping," insisted Songbird.

"Nothing doing on that score, Songbird!" replied Tom, quickly. "We had
a new power pump installed last week. I will attach it, and then you
can start up the motor."

"A power pump! Say, that beats hand pumping all to pieces."

"Indeed, it does!" broke in Sam. "I never minded putting on a new
tire, but the pumping-up always came hard."

"Say, this puts me in mind of a story," came from Tom, with a grin.
"Some Germans were going on an automobile tour, and a friend was
bidding them good-bye. Says the friend: 'Uf you haf a blowout, be sure
and haf it in de right place-- at de hotel!'" And at this little joke
there was a general laugh.

Five minutes more found them again on the way, and now Songbird had
the large lights turned on, which made the roadway ahead as bright as
day. He drove as speedily as possible, but with great care, avoiding
everything that looked as if it might harm the tires.

"Oh, what a splendid time I have had!" exclaimed Minnie, as, all too
soon, the Sanderson homestead was reached. Then Songbird assisted her
to alight, and insisted upon accompanying her into the cottage.

"I will wager he would rather stay here than go on to Brill," remarked
Tom, slyly.

"Sure thing!" returned Sam. "Wouldn't we rather remain at Hope than go
to Brill?" And at this pointed remark both of the girls giggled.

Those outside waited for several minutes, and then Tom sounded the
horn loudly. Soon Songbird re-appeared and took his place at the
wheel, and then the automobile was turned in the direction of the
seminary.