two-bagger, and the play made by Colby Hall in the ending of the sixth inning was repeated by their opponents, thus making the score 5 to 3.

On their part Colby Hall tried its best to score during the seventh, but was doomed to disappointment.

Then came the eighth inning with a goose egg placed on the board for each nine.

“Say, this begins to look bad for us,” remarked Will Hendry, the fattest boy at Colby Hall. “It looks as if Hixley High was going to have a sweet revenge.”

In the Hixley High half of the ninth inning Dink Wilsey showed what a very good all-around player he was. The noted pitcher cracked out a home run, making the tally with ease. Fortunately this was at a time when there was no one on base, so that only one run was scored. Two men were out, and the next player knocked a fly to short, which was gathered in by Frank Newberry with ease.

“Hurrah! Score another for Hixley High!”

“That makes the score six to three!”

“I guess this game is as good as won!”

So the cries ran on among the high-school scholars and their friends. The Colby Hall contingent was, of course, much downcast, but they refused to show it, and once more the slogan of the military academy boomed forth.

“Now, boys, pull yourselves together and go at ’em hammer and tongs,” cried Gif Garrison. “Watch the pitcher. Don’t let Dink put anything over you.”

Fred Rover was at the bat, and he managed to make a safe hit. He was followed by a player who made another safe hit, thus advancing Fred to second. Then came two outs, but in the mix-up Fred managed to steal to third, while the player on first got down to second. Jack Rover was now once more to the bat, and all of his friends were yelling at the top of their lungs for him to “Knock the hide off the ball!” “Send it over the back fence!” “Show ’em where the other side of the river is!” and to “Wipe up the field with Hixley High!”

One ball was called, and then a strike. Then came another strike, and things began to look gloomy for Colby Hall. But then Jack got a ball exactly where he wanted it, and he swung at it with every ounce of muscle he could command. Crack! went the bat, and the sphere went sailing far down in left field.

“That’s the way to do it! Run, boys, run!”

“Come on home, Jack!”

Fred, on third, was already streaking for home, and close behind him came the player who had been on second. In the meanwhile, Jack raced to first and around to second, and then came plowing up to third.

“Hold it, Rover! Hold it!”

“Come on in—don’t wait! Come on in!”

Jack looked down into the field and saw that the fielder was just in the act of picking up the ball. With a great bound, he started for the home plate, and when ten feet from that place dropped to the ground and slid in with the rapidity of lightning.

“He’s safe! A home run!”

“That ties the score!”

“Now then, boys, go in and finish ’em up!”

The din and excitement was now tremendous. The score was indeed a tie. Which club would win?

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CHAPTER II

ABOUT THE ROVER BOYS

“Now then, fellows, don’t forget to bring in the winning run!”

“Show Hixley High what we can do!”

And then came a rousing cheer from the Colby Hall cadets, and once more they gave the well-known military academy refrain.

Any ordinary pitcher might have been nervous over the prospect ahead of him; but Dink Wilsey was not one of that caliber, and he faced the next batsman as coolly as he had all of the others. Two balls were called, and then two strikes, and then two more balls, and the batsman walked to first base.

“Hurrah! he’s afraid to give him the kind we chew up.”

“Maybe he’ll let the next man walk, too!” cried another.

But this was not to be. The next cadet up went out on a foul, and the inning came to a sudden end.

“A tie! A tie! The game is a tie!”

“Now for the winning run! Hixley High!”

“That’s the stuff! Larsen to the bat! And, my, won’t he wallop that ball!”

Larsen was the Hixley High center fielder—a tall, sturdy youth with blue eyes and light hair, of Norwegian descent. He came to the plate with a “do-or-die” look on his face. He allowed two balls to pass him, only one of which, however, was called a strike. Then he made a sweep for the next ball, sending it out in a red-hot liner toward Jack.

Many a young ball player would have stepped out of the way with such a red-hot variety of baseball coming his way. But not so Jack Rover. Like a flash his hands went out and he caught the ball firmly, although the impact of the sphere whirled him half way around.

“Gee, look at that!”

“I wouldn’t have caught that ball for a thousand dollars!”

A great shout of approval rang out, and during this Gif hurried over to Jack’s side.

“How about it—did it hurt you any?” he questioned quickly.

“It stung me a little, that’s all,” was Jack’s reply. His hands burnt like fire, but he did not intend to let anybody know it.

“One down! Now for the other two!” came the cry.

“Not much! Here is where we score!”

But alas for the hopes of Hixley High! The next man up went out on strikes, and the fellow to follow knocked a foul which was easily gathered in by the third baseman.

“Now here is where we bring home the bacon!” cried Ned Lowe, one of the Colby Hall fans.

Andy Rover had been burning to distinguish himself, and now his chance came. First to the bat, he made a very neat base hit. Then, however, came an out, and the Colby Hall boys were, for a moment, downcast. But they quickly recovered when the next player made a single and Andy slid around safely to third.

“Now then, a hit! Just a neat little hit!” came the entreating cry.

“Oh, if only they do get it!” murmured Ruth Stevenson. “I wish Jack was at the bat.”

“It’s my cousin Dick!” cried May Powell, and she was right—Spouter Powell was up.

Spouter was not a particularly strong ball player, but he had one feature which was in his favor—he knew how to keep cool, and that helped greatly in this heart-breaking emergency. He waited calmly until two strikes and two balls had been called, and then he struck a low one, sending it just inside the first-base line. It slipped past the baseman, and as Spouter’s feet crossed the bag, Fred Rover slid in safely to the home plate.

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Colby Hall wins!”

Then followed a wild cheering and yelling, in the midst of which the crowds on the bleachers and the grandstand broke forth to mingle with the players on the ball field. Of course, the Hixley High students were much crestfallen, yet they tried to take their defeat in good part.

“Three cheers for Hixley High!” shouted Gif Garrison, and they were given with a will. Then followed a cheer from the high-school students for those of the military academy, and then the crowd started to disperse.

“Oh, boys! some celebration to-night, what?” cried Randy Rover, and in the exuberance of his spirits he turned several handsprings on the grass.

“You bet we’ll celebrate!” exclaimed his cousin Fred.

“Say! we ought to shoot off the old cannon for this,” burst out Andy Rover. He referred to an