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center. Stogie lost his helmet as he rounded first. The helmet bounced on the base path and
     stopped near the grass about the same time that Stogie stopped at second base.
    Time was called and Stogie got his helmet.
    Bob Sobus, after fouling two pitches, grounded out to short. Bernie went the limit, three balls and two strikes, then struck
     out. The Rainbows chattered like crazy and Stogie wondered if he’d die on second.
    Tony Francis blasted the first pitchthrough short and the coach at third wind-milled Stogie in. The Rainbow shortstop took the throw-in from left and pegged it
     in to home, but Stogie was already there. Tony advanced to second on the play.
    Tom Rolf stepped to the plate and waited out Fats Cornell’s pitches to a two-and-two count. Then he popped one high to first
     base for the third out.
    “Well, we’ve broken the ice, anyway,” said the coach. “Now go and get ’em out.”
    The Rainbow lead-off man singled on the first pitch. The next drove a hot grounder to second. Stogie crouched to pick it up
     and missed the hop. The ball struck his left knee and glanced behind first. Bob Sobus hightailed after it, picked it up and
     hurled it to third to get the first runner heading there from second. The throw was too high! The runner rounded third and scored, and the second runner stopped on second base.

    Nice
! Stogie muttered to himself.
Sobus and I are both playing a nice game — for the Rainbows
!
    The Rainbows didn’t stop there. They scored twice more before the Mohawks could get them out. At the end of the top of the
     third inning the scoreboard read, Rainbows 6, Mohawks 1.
    “They’re burying us,” said Fuzzy as he plunked himself on the bench. “We’re just not playing baseball.”
    “Get hold of yourselves,” Coach Dirkus said firmly to the team. “Keep loose out there and keep your heads up. You’re not thinking.
     Think ahead every minute. Say to yourself, ‘What’ll I do if the ball’s hit tome?’ Have that answer in your head and you won’t get mixed up when the ball does come to you. The old fight, now. Let’s go!”
    If Jim Albanese had any of the old fight in him before, he didn’t have it now. He popped the second pitch to short. Lee Cragg
     put some life into the team with a single through short, but Dennis struck out and Fuzzy grounded out to second.
    “I hardly got to sit down!” grunted Bernie, running across the diamond with Stogie.
    “I’m up first next inning,” said Stogie. “It’ll be the second time.”
    “Better do something!” Bernie said. “My father says a game’s never over till the last inning.”
    “Is he here?”
    “Try to keep him away! But this is one game that’s over already.”
    The first Rainbow drove Tom’s first pitch through the hole between third and short, and it seemed as if the Rainbows were
     rolling again. A pop-up to Fuzzy Caliel, and then a fly to center fielder Daren Holden, who had taken Lee Cragg’s place, brightened
     the Mohawks’ hopes. Then Tom, after throwing a wide pitch to the batter, winged three strikes over the plate. The batter swung
     at the last one and missed it a foot. Three away.
    Stogie ran in, looking for Sam. But Sam still hadn’t shown up.
    “Start it off again, Stoge!” yelled a fan.
    “Sharpen up your tomahawks, you Mohawk Indians, and get some hits, will you?” cried another.
    Stogie pulled on his helmet, selected his favorite bat, and stepped to the plate. Fats drilled a strike past him, then drilled
     in another. Stogie swung. “Strike two!” cried the ump.
    Fats threw a bad one, then came in with a pitch that looked slightly inside. Stogie couldn’t take the chance of being called
     out. He cut at it.
Crack
! A line drive between short and third for a neat single!
    “Thataway to go, Stoge!” screamed the fans.
    Bob followed up with a single too, and Stogie raced around to third. Beak Peters, batting for Bernie, socked a grounder to
     short. The Mohawk fans groaned as the ball