“Third, Earl—third!” cried Dick, making signals to the runner.
Gardner kept on toward third.
Mole secured the ball, which was swiftly thrown to Lumley. It struck the ground and took a bad bound over Lumley’s shoulder.
“Home!” shouted Dick as Gardner came tearing toward third.
Then the wildly excited crowd saw Earl cross third base and go scooting toward the plate.
The ball had struck a post to which the rope was tied that held the crowd back. Lumley secured it and threw to Garvin. The throw was a trifle high, and Gardner made a beautiful slide, his hand reaching the plate an instant before he was tagged by Garvin.
“Safe!” yelled the umpire.
Pandemonium broke loose, for Fairhaven had thus won the game and the pennant in the Trolley League.
There was a celebration in Fairhaven that night, and it was one long to be remembered. The whole town seemed ablaze with red fire and alive with people, who marched up and down the streets, blowing horns, ringing cow bells, shooting off pistols, and singing, and cheering. The Central Hotel was ablaze with light. In front of it speeches were delivered by several persons; but the crowd was not satisfied until Dick Merriwell appeared on the steps. They kept calling for him, and at last he was pushed forward. The moment they caught sight of him they started to cheer, but in advance of that cheering Brick McLane was heard roaring:
“There’s the boy that done it! He’s the kid Benton Hammerswell kicked out of Maplewood—him and his ball team that won the pennant right here for Fairhaven to-day! Where is Hammerswell now? Why didn’t he wait and see the fun to-night?”