Even the cadets had risen to their feet, every man's eye turned
on the diamond, while the cadet cheer-master danced up and down,
ready to spring the yell of triumph if only Carter and the player
on deck could give the chance.
Lieutenant Lawrence wiped his perspiring face and neck. The coach
probably suffered more than any other man on the field. It was his
work that had prepared for this supreme game of the whole diamond
season!
Over at third base Cadet Prescott danced cautiously away, yet every
now and then stole nearly back. Dick was never going to lose a
scored run through carelessness.
"Now, good old Carter, can't you?" groaned Durville, as the Army
batsman went forward to the plate.
"Durry, I'll come home with my shield, or on it," muttered Carter,
with set teeth and white lips as he went to pick up the bat that
he was to swing.
Carter was not one of the best stick men of the Army baseball
outfit, but there is sometimes such a thing as batting luck.
For this, Carter prayed under his breath.
Darrin, of course, was determined to baffle this strong-hope man
of West Point. He sent in one of his craftiest outshoots. For a
wonder, Carter guessed it, and reached out for it---but missed.
"Strike two!" followed almost immediately from the placid's umpire's
lips.
Everyone who hoped for the Army was trembling now.
Dan Dalzell did some urgent signaling.
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