"It is the sun of Austerlitz," quoted Tom.

"It's a good omen anyway," declared Ned. "Buckle down to your work now, boys, and play like tigers."

And they did. Fred promptly struck the first man out on three pitched b.a.l.l.s. The second popped up a high foul, which Tom gathered in after a long run. The third man up dribbled a slow one to the box and Fred quickly snapped the ball over to first for an out.

"Short and sweet, that inning," commented Slim Haley.

"Now it's our turn again," said Teddy. "Here's where we win."

"Up guards and at them," encouraged Tom.

But, try as they would, their bad luck persisted. Their slugging was hard and fierce, but the ball went straight into a fielder's hands, and again they went out on the diamond without a score to their credit.

In the enemy's eighth turn at bat, it looked as if they might get one or more runs over the plate. A lucky bound allowed one man to get to first, and he went to second when Morley dropped a high fly after a long run.

There were men on first and second with none out, and their chance for a score was bright.

The next man up sent a whistling liner right over second. Teddy, who was playing close to the bag, jumped in the air and pulled down the ball.

That, of course, put out the batter. As Teddy came down with the ball in his hand, he stepped on the base, thus putting out the man who had made a bee line for third, thinking the ball would go safe, and was now trying desperately to get back. That made two out. The fellow who had been on first had almost reached second, but turned and sprinted back with Teddy in hot pursuit. He clapped the ball on him just in time, and the side was out. Teddy had made a triple play una.s.sisted.

It was a sparkling and most unusual feat, and the whole stand rose to Teddy as he came in, and cheered and cheered until he was forced to pull off his cap. The Mount Vernon rooters forgot their partisanship and shouted as loudly as the rest. As for his schoolmates, they mauled and hugged him until he fled for refuge to the bench.

"Some fireworks!" yelled one.

"I can die happy, now!" exclaimed another. "I've seen a triple play pulled off."

"You'll never see another," prophesied his neighbor.

The Rally Hall boys were yelling their loudest to encourage their favorites when they came to bat for the last time.

A groan went up when Duncan lifted a high fly to centre field, which was caught easily. But Melvin sent a sizzling liner to left, just inside third, and made two bases on it. And the yells were deafening, when Ward advanced him to third, by a fierce grounder to short, that was too hot to hold.

"Rushton! Rushton!" they shouted, as Fred came to bat after Tom had gone out on a foul. "Hit it on the trademark!" "Give it a ride!" "Win your own game!"

The first ball was a deceptive drop, but Fred did not "bite." The second was a low fast one, about knee high, just the kind he was accustomed to "kill."

With a mighty swing he caught it fair "on the seam." It rose like a shot and soared into centre field, far over the fielder's head.

Melvin and Ward came in, tying the score, and Fred, who had gone around the bases like a deer, made it a home run by just beating the ball on a headlong slide to the plate.

Rally Hall promptly went raving mad.

There was still one more chance for the Mount Vernon lads, and their best hitters were coming on. But Fred was on his mettle now, and put every ounce of his strength and cunning into his pitching. They simply could not hit his slants. The first went out on strikes, Ward made a dazzling catch of a hot liner, and, when Melvin, after a long run, caught a high foul close to the left field bleachers, the game was over, with the score three to two in favor of Rally Hall.

It was a hilarious crowd that met the team at Green Haven when the train pulled in. The whole nine had played well, and all came in for their share of the ovation, though the Rushton brothers were regarded as having carried off the honors of the game.

"Do you know what pleased me most of all?" asked Fred of Melvin.

"That home run you made, I suppose," answered the other.

"No," was the answer. "It was that we downed the 'ringer.' They couldn't get away with their low-down trick. We put one over on 'voconometry and trigoculture.'"

But Fred had a chance to "put one over" a few days later that pleased him still more.

A group of the boys had been down to the post office and were walking slowly on the road back to Rally Hall. It was a beautiful afternoon, and they took their time, in no hurry to get home.

Suddenly there was a loud "honk," "honk" behind them, and, looking back, they saw an automobile coming swiftly toward them.

They scattered to let it pa.s.s, but, as it came up it slackened speed and began zigzagging from one side of the road to the other, making the boys jump to keep out of the way.

"Can't you look out where you're going?" asked Slim angrily. "What kind of a driver are you, anyway?"

"By Jove, fellows!" exclaimed Bill Garwood, as he looked more closely at the face behind the goggles, "it's Andy Shanks!"

It was indeed that disgraced youth, who was making a trip through that part of the state, and whom some impulse had prompted to go by way of Green Haven.

"Sure it is," he answered sourly. "Get out of the way, you b.o.o.bs. Jump, you skate," he said to Fred, as he darted the machine at him.

Fred leaped nimbly out of the way, and Andy, with a derisive jeer, sped on, looking behind him and laughing insolently.

Fred was white with indignation.

"The coward!" he exclaimed. "If I could get on that running board, I'd drag him from his seat!"

"He sure ought to have a licking," agreed Bill. "But we'd have to be some good little sprinters to catch him now."

"Look, fellows!" cried Billy Burton excitedly, "he's stopped. There must be something the matter with his engine."

They all started to run.

Andy had dismounted quickly and was working desperately to get his stalled engine going.

He got it sparking at last, but before he could jump into the seat the boys were on him.

"No, you don't!" cried Fred, getting between him and the machine. "I've got an account to settle with you."

"Get out of my way," snarled Andy, trying to push past.

Fred's answer was a blow that caught the bully under the chin and sent his teeth together with a snap.

"I'll fix you for that," Andy roared.

"Come along," was Fred's challenge, slipping off his coat, "but first take off your goggles. I'm going to lick you good and plenty, but I don't want to blind you."

Then followed a fight that Slim afterward described to a delighted group at the dormitory as a "peach of a sc.r.a.p."

Even a rat will fight if it is cornered, and Andy, having no way out, did his best. All the hate and venom he felt for Fred came to the surface, and he fought ferociously.

But he was no match, despite his size and strength, for the boy he had wronged. Fred was in splendid shape, thanks to his athletic training, and, besides, he was as quick as a cat. He easily evaded the bull-like rushes of Andy, and got in one clean-cut blow after another that shook the bully from head to foot. The thought of all he had suffered through Shank's trickery gave an additional sting to the blows he showered on him, and it was not long before Andy lay on the ground, sullen and vanquished.