did. A dark cloud passed over the face of Captain Hiram as he anxiously

stood at first base, and something like a cloud darkened Alice Howell's fair cheek, far up above the brightly-lighted field, now illuminated by the afternoon sun.

A deep sigh went around among the Catalpa contingent in the open seats, as Stirling, having received a hot ball from Rob Peabody, failed to pick it up with his accustomed skill, and had the mortification of seeing the agile base runner get to the first bag in safety. It was clearly evident now that the Catalpas were a little nervous. "We have them rattled," whispered the Calumets among themselves, as they sat expectantly on the players' bench. Even Charlie King, who never lost his equipoise, appeared to have left some of his skill behind him, for he did not twirl the ball with that bewildering dexterity that had been, all along, the envy and the terror of the Calumets.

There was a woe-begone expression on the faces of the Catalpa players--save one, and that was Ben Burton, who wore a settled smile of derision. He seemed to be congratulating himself on the possible coming true of his prophecies. Any misplay on the part of the Catalpas was the signal for what Hart Stirling termed "one of Ben Burton's contemptible laughs."

Shoff again faced the pitching of Charlie King and the two players exchanged a grin, a half-defiant recognition of their friendly antagonism. Thomas repeated his hit of the first inning, sending the ball to the left field fence for three bases and sending in Morse, Handy and Peabody, and putting his club in the coveted position of a good lead. Next, Glenn Otto hit a lively grounder to Boyne who caught it safely and retired the base runner; but Tom Shoff went triumphantly home.

After this, "The Cats" seemed to regain something of their old vigor and spirit. A few words of warning, impressing on them the need of keeping cool, and reminding them that they now had everything to gain, and nothing to lose, were dropped by their captain, as they braced themselves for a good strong play. King neatly fooled Jamie Kennedy with his deceptive in-shoots and the batsman of the Calumets was called out on strikes. Charlie Webb was the last man at the bat in this inning, and he went out on a fly to Hart Stirling.

"That ends the fifth inning!" shouted the scorer. "Score, eight to six in favor of the Calumet club," an announcement which was not very comforting to the gentlemen from Catalpa, whether they were in the Diamond Field or in the boxes. Al Heaton dashed his hat down over his eyes and went solemnly down to send a despatch which, a few minutes afterwards, was read in the streets of Catalpa with great consternation.

In the sixth inning, the Calumets played with the good luck that usually seems to follow a club which has the lead in the score. Perhaps it was their self-confidence, natural and fitting, that inspired them now. At any rate, they retired the Catalpa representatives of the national game without allowing one of them to reach the first base. Captain Porter was thrown out at the first base by Jamie Kennedy, Ben Burton went out on a fly to McWilliams, and "The Lily" hit an easy ground ball to John Handy, who made a lightning throw to first base in time to head off the deeply disappointed William.

But the Catalpa players showed that they were not out of heart, for their playing was remarkably strong in this part of the inning. Burton threw McWilliams out at first base; then Darius Ayres hit a "liner" to the left field which was very cleverly caught by Sam Morrison; and the inning was then brought to an end by Sam Morse who struck out; and the sentiment of the spectators was reflected by an irrepressible small boy who cried, "Now 'The Cats' will get a run!"

Larry Boyne, who went to the bat for the visiting club, was the fortunate man who was to make good the small boy's prediction. He opened the inning in magnificent style by hitting the ball fairly and the flying sphere almost struck the left field foul line. It was "a tight squeeze," as one of the Catalpa on-lookers observed, and the umpire's decision was invoked by the captain of the Calumets. The umpire justly gave the ball as fair, whereupon some of the baser sort in the amphitheater began to hoot and cry "Foul!" as if they would thus reverse the decision of the umpire. That gentleman coolly ordered the game to stop until the noise had ceased; there were counter cries of "Shame!" from some of the more orderly of the spectators, and then, quiet having been restored, the contest was resumed, Sam Morrison being at the bat.

Samuel went out on a fly to Ayres. While Neddie Ellis was at the bat, a passed ball allowed Larry to get around to third base. Neddie retired on a foul tip to Charlie Webb, and it looked as if the chances for the Catalpas to make a run were very slender indeed. But Charlie King came to the rescue. He hit a ball to Glenn Otto at short stop, which, luckily for the Catalpas, went through his legs and allowed King to take his base and brought Larry Boyne to the home plate amidst the cheers of his many admirers. But Hart Stirling dashed the hopes of his comrades for this inning by sending up a fly to Jamie Kennedy at second base.

Alice Howell's little hand was drumming nervously on the rail of her box, as she regarded in dejected silence the scene, when the Calumets came to the bat with a feeling of confidence readily manifest in their faces. But their opponents played a fine fielding game, and the home nine were presented with the figurative "goose egg" which had been so often referred to during the contest. Handy struck three times the unsubstantial air, and Peabody went out disastrously also on a fly to Hiram Porter. Shoff reached the first base on called balls, but only to be left there, as Jamie Kennedy failed to strike the ball after making three terrific lunges at it.

The Catalpas were still hopeful, but not sanguine. They had only one run to make in order to tie their competitors, and they went to work now with a will. They were not nearly so badly off as they might have been, was the cheery comment of Larry Boyne, as they went to the bat once more. But fate was against them, and they were retired in "one-two-three order," as the Calumets played a winning game. John Brubaker hit a ball to Kennedy who sent it to first base in a manner that won the plaudits of the crowds intently watching the contest from the seats around the huge amphitheater. Captain Porter hit a fly to left field which was captured by McWilliams in wonderfully fine style, and Ben Burton struck out. The Calumets were very fortunate at the bat. In this inning they made another run and again placed themselves two runs in the lead. Kennedy made a base hit, and went to second base on a passed ball, and then reached third base on Burton's error of Webb's in-field hit. Jamie finally scored on McWilliams's out at first base. Next Darius Ayres hit a fly to Sam Morrison and was retired, and Morse ended the inning by striking out, leaving the score nine to seven in favor of the Calumets.

"Small chances for our taking the championship this season," was Ben Burton's gleeful remark, as the Catalpas took their places on the bench.

"And you seem to be mightily tickled about it," replied "The Lily," with an angry glare in his eyes. "If I were as pleased as you seem to be at the drubbing we are likely to get from these chaps, I should expect to be fired out of the club for treachery."

Van Orman did not stop to hear the reply which Burton, white with wrath, made to this taunt. Seizing his bat, he hurried to the square and faced the pitching of the redoubtable and confident Morse. He waited patiently for a good ball and finally received one. With all his might--which was a great deal--"The Lily" hit the sphere and sent it flying to the left field, where the lithe and agile McWilliams captured it, after a hard run which called forth an involuntary burst of applause from the rapt spectators.

"Hang it all! Just my luck!" muttered Van Orman, as, throwing down his bat, he returned to his seat.

But Larry Boyne, as cool and calm as a spring morning, came next, reassuring his friends and comrades by the mere poise of his handsome figure as he took his place in the batter's square. Not a word had he said for the past half-hour, and it was plain to see that he keenly felt the defeat that now stared the Catalpas in the face. But he showed no white feather, bearing himself as if it were an every-day occurrence to find himself in so difficult a predicament. Two strikes were called on him in rapid succession; the third ball he struck at and missed and he was consequently retired for the first time during the day for having failed to hit the ball. The tide seemed to be irretrievably running against the visitors, and many of the less interested spectators began to make their way to the exits, saying as they went, that the game was over.

But a little diversion in favor of the Catalpas now took place. Sam Morrison made a long line hit to center field for three bases, and a slight glimmer of hope dawned in the breasts of the sons of Catalpa. The friendly champions of the club, bunched together in the seats, yelled themselves hoarse over this little turn in the game, encouraging their fellow-townsmen in the Diamond Field with all sorts of cheering cries and remarks. Alice Howell, red and white by turns, and sometimes not seeing the field for the unwonted moisture that gathered in her eyes, waved her handkerchief at the boys below, never trusting herself to say a word.

With breathless interest, Neddie Ellis was watched as he ran to the bat and squared himself for a decisive stroke of business. Even the umpire, carried away by the unwonted crisis, forgot everything but the trembling balance of the result of the game. He was brought to his senses by a shouting from the grand stand when he considered a ball was too low to be called a strike, although there were only a few persons who thought to the contrary. Neddie was made a little nervous, naturally enough, by the commotion and the stress of the exigency. He knew that there were some chances of winning now depending on his making a good hit. It was a critical point in the closely contested struggle. He made a desperate lunge at the ball, but Jamie Kennedy was at his post and before the hapless Neddie could realize what had happened, Kennedy had retired him at first base and the game was won for the Calumets.

Then a mighty shout went up from the throats of the assembled multitudes, for, although many had slipped out in time to avoid the press of the departing throngs, those who remained were sufficiently numerous and enthusiastic to create a vociferous uproar. In the midst of this, the two captains met in mid-field and shook hands cordially with a few complimentary words from each, as their respective clubs gathered around. Then, the promiscuous cheering in the seats having subsided, the victors gave a rousing cheer, more or less inspired by their own exultant spirits, for their antagonists; and the Catalpas, nothing abashed by their defeat, returned the cheer with great heartiness.

"Meet us at Catalpa," said Captain Hiram Porter to the captain of the Calumet club. "Meet us at Catalpa, and we will try hard to retrieve the ill fortune of this day."

It had been agreed that the third and concluding game of the championship series should be played at Catalpa, in case the Calumets should win the second game. So, with a few hurried words relating to a friendly meeting of the captains of the two nines, on the morrow, the players dispersed from the field. This was what might have been read on the bulletin boards as they went along their homeward way:--

BASE BALL TO-DAY.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Catalpas 3 0 1 2 0 0 1 0 0 7. Calumets 3 1 0 0 4 0 0 1 0 9.

_Runs earned_, Catalpas, 4; Calumets, 2. _Base hits_, Catalpas, 7; Calumets, 7. _Errors_, Catalpas, 5; Calumets, 7. _Umpire_, Mr. Mark B. Redmond. _Time of game, two hours and ten minutes._