It looked slow and easy.

The Lehigh man swung a well-aimed crack at the ball.
"Strike one," announced the umpire.
Again Prescott turned his wrist and twirled.
"Strike two!" Then an outcurve.
"Strike three! Out!" Lehigh began to look with some interest at this new, confident pitcher.
The next Lehigh man to bat met a similar fate.

So did the third man.
Now, the West Point yells went up with new force and purpose.
The corps yell rose, loud and thunderous, followed by three cries of "Prescott!" In their half of the inning, West Point put men on first and second, but that was the best they could do.
So it dragged along to the seventh inning.

Army rooters were now sure that West Point's star pitcher had been found at last, and that Lehigh would have rare luck to score again today.

But West Point didn't seem able to score, either, and Lehigh had the one needed dot.
As Army went to bat Greg took up the stick and swung it expectantly.
"Do something, Greg," Dick had whispered.