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!"