"Perhaps you will," went on Dr. Churchill. "The boys will soon organize the eleven."
Tom's nerve came back to him. Now he didn't mind the pain in his arm. There was one man out and Tom's team was a run ahead. If he could only strike out two more men the championship would be safe.
The next batter was easy, for he was a poor hitter, and Tom soon sent him to the bench. The following player was one of the best stick-wielders Fairview had.
"If I can only get him," thought the pitcher.
Warily Tom delivered to him an inshoot. It was missed cleanly, but a look in the batter's eye warned the pitcher that another such curve would not fool him. Tom sent in a puzzling drop and the batter struck over it.
"Two strikes!" called the umpire, amid almost breathless silence.
Kerr signaled for another incurve, but Tom shook his head. He was going to deliver a style of ball he had used but once before that day because it twisted his arm fiercely. It was a sort of "fade-away" ball, made famous by a great professional player.
Tom drew his arm back, having gripped the ball strongly. The action made him wince with pain, but there was no time now to stop for that. Out straightened his muscles and the horsehide left his
