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second? He looked at Gary, and then atTommy. But Gary was leaning forward, his hands on his knees, chattering for all he was worth. He had lots of life, Gary did.
     Tommy was facing third, rubbing the ball, just taking his time. He didn’t look worried at all.
    The first pitch was a called strike. The second was in there, too. The batter swung.
Crack!
A hot grounder down to second, right at Stan!
    He had to make his decision — right
now!
Home, or first?
    He caught the hop, whipped it home. Out! Larry snapped the ball to third. Safe by half a step!
    “Nice peg, Stan!” said Tommy, smiling.
    One away. Still three on.
    A high pop fly to third, going foul, with Mose Finn going under it. Mose had taken Jim’s place. A warm relief came over Stan.
Mose will catch this ball and I won’t have to worry about a double play,
he thought.
    The ball came down, a small, white meteor.It struck Mose’s glove, and bounced out!
    “Get a basket!” somebody shouted from the stands.
    “Butterfingers!” Stan muttered to himself.
    The next pitch was a ground ball to short. Stan raced to cover second. Gary fielded the ball and snapped it hard to Stan.
    The ball struck the thumb of Stan’s glove and sailed past him!
    He turned, ran after the ball, and picked it up. But it was too late. A runner had just crossed the plate.
    “Come on, Stan!” shouted Gary, angrily. “Hold on to ’em!”
    Stan blushed. Even though it was the Steelers’ first run, Stan felt that it was his fault. Gary had thrown that ball a little
     too hard, but he still should have had it.
    Tommy fanned the next man, and the boys hustled off the field.
    “You threw that ball too hard, Gary,” accusedCoach Bartlett. “When you’re that close to second, throw it easier. Watch it the next time.”
    Stan looked, baffled, at the coach, and then at Gary, who went silently to the dugout. So the coach had noticed. Suddenly,
     he felt a lot better.
    The Falcons went on to win the game, 8 to 1.

12
    I need a vacation,” said Phil just before August rolled around. “I haven’t been away from home in a long time.”
    Dad smiled. “Where do you want to go?”
    Phil shrugged. “South somewhere. Georgia. Florida. Just to see some country I haven’t seen before.”
    Phil had no steady job. He had worked on construction for a while, on the new senior high school. Then he had had a job as
     a stock clerk in a computer factory. He seldom complained, but he hadn’t acted satisfied with either job.
    “Boy! Wish I could go with you,” cried Stan.
    “Maybe you can — sometime,” Phil said, pinching Stan’s nose. “But not this time.”
    “We’ll miss you,” Dottie said, her cheeks dimpling as she smiled. “But I think a two weeks’ vacation will do you good.”
    Phil laughed. “Want to get rid of me?”
    “Just for two weeks,” replied his sister, and kissed him on the cheek.
    Phil looked at Stan. “If you want any rides in the boat, little buddy, Dad will take you. Don’t you ever take it out by yourself.”
    “Don’t worry,” said Stan. “Jeez, don’t you think I know?”
    Phil packed his suitcase, and Dad drove him to the bus station.
    “Write,” Dad said.
    “I will,” Phil promised.
    Things did not go very well around second base during the practice sessions. Stan felt sure he knew what it was. Gary just
     didn’t like the idea of Stan’s taking over at second.
    Was second base very different from shortstop? Stan didn’t think so, yet it could be only for that reason that Gary acted
     that way.
    Jeb was almost always at the practices, too, sitting in the dugout with his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms
     crossed over his chest. He had dated Dottie again and Stan didn’t like that at all. There were so many real nice guys. Why
     did she have to go out with him?”
    The funny part of it was, Stan really couldn’t think of anything bad about Jeb. Maybe he just didn’t
want
to like Jeb because he showed Gary pointers on the ball field.