“Parsons will pitch the remainder of the game,” went on the coach to the Randall players and he made the necessary announcement to the game officials. “Tom,” he called, “come on; you’re up in place of Langridge.”

Tom Parsons’ heart gave a great throb. At last he had the chance for which he had waited so long. He was to pitch in a big game!

Tom was a good batter. He was also acquainted with many pitchers’ tricks, for Mr. Lighton had given him good instruction. Tom was ready for whatever came. The first ball Ogden delivered was an incurve. Tom instinctively stepped back to avoid it, but it went neatly over the plate and a strike was called on him. He shut his teeth hard. He reasoned that Ogden would expect him to be on the lookout the second time for an outcurve, for it might naturally be supposed that the pitcher would vary his delivery.

“But he thinks I’m looking for an out,” thought Tom. “Therefore he’ll give me another in. I’ll be ready for it.”

He was. He stepped right into the next ball, which was an incurve, and with a mighty sweep sent it sailing far over the right fielder’s head. It was good for three bases and Tom took them.

“Go on! Keep running! That’s a beaut! Take another! Make it a homer!” yelled the crowd, which was on its feet shouting like mad, waving hats, hands, handkerchiefs and college colors.

“Stay there!” cautioned Coach Lighton, for the ball was being relayed home.

Tom’s sensational hit seemed to put new life into the team and Bricktop Molloy also brought in a run. That, however, ended the good work.

Then came Tom’s turn in the box. That he was a little nervous was natural, but he kept control of himself and only allowed one hit, though it was good eventually for a run. There was a noticeable stiffening in the work of the team and the coach congratulated Tom as he came in with his chums to take their turn at the bat again.

The seventh inning saw four runs safely laid away for Randall, while the marker put up a neat little ring in the square for Boxer, for Tom struck out two of the three men who were up, one going out on a pop fly, the pitcher having misjudged his batter. Neither side scored in the eighth, and when Randall got three runs in the ninth, and, in spite of strenuous work on the part of Tom, the Boxers got one run that same inning, the score was tied—11 to 11.