Then Maitland gained first on called balls, and Furlong did the same, which advanced Prescott to third.
Now Carson came up with the stick, sending out a slow grounder.
In like an Apache runner came Prescott, kicking the plate just before the ball dropped.
From the seats of the Army came the triumphant yell:
"North point, east point, south point, West Point—-two points!"
The next Army man struck out, but West Point was breathing, now, with score two to one.
"Don't let Lehigh put another dot on the card, Prescott, and you'll be our pitcher this year," promised Maitland.
"Wait and see if the visitors can get any more from us," laughed Dick coolly. He felt that he had his old Gridley winning gait on now. He proved it by striking out three straight in the first half of the eighth. But West Point did not score, either, in that inning.
Then came Lehigh, grim and desperate, to bat for the ninth time. The first man Dick struck out. But even his wrist seemed to be treacherous now. The second Lehigh man offered at nothing, and went to first on called balls. So did the second, and a third man, and the bags were filled.
Maitland glanced appealingly at Dick.