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was in that mind of Harold Demp-sey’s — the computer expert — anyway? What was he thinking of as he wrote the “single”
     and “run scored” signs in the score-book after Faye’s name?
    Harold Dempsey.
Where had he taken Faye and the other two girls, after they had left the movies those Saturday afternoons?

SEVEN
    P ENNY , standing on the ground behind and to the side of the third-base sack and just inside of the short-cut grass, waited for
     the Hard Hats’ leadoff girl to come to the plate. But her mind was still on Harold and the three girls, Shari, Karen, and
     Faye. What could she do? Now that her closest friend, Faye, was also under that strange spell — Penny couldn’t think of anything
     else to call it — whom could she talk to? Who would believe her? You would think that other members on the team could
see
that something had turned those girls into strangers and superstars, but no one else had mentioned it. Maybe some of them
     had noticedit but were reluctant to say so. As I am reluctant, Penny thought.
But someone has got to say something to somebody sometime!
    Joyce Buddins, the Hard Hats left center fielder, corked a single over short, and the next two girls got out, both on fly
     balls to the outfield. Then June Cato, the top of the Hard Hats’ lineup, came up again and drove a hot grounder down to third.
     Watching it come at her in short, rapid hops, Penny knew she was going to miss it. She felt too tense and nervous.
    And miss it she did. The ball struck the heel of her glove, hit her on the chest, and bounced to the ground. By the time she
     retrieved it, June was almost on first base — too late for Penny to throw there — and Joyce was on second.
    “Sorry,” Penny said apologetically to Mary Ann as she tossed the ball to the pitcher.
    “Forget it,” said Mary Ann. “That came at you like a bullet.”
    She doesn’t know that I missed it because I wasn’t concentrating on my playing, Penny thought guiltily.
    Effie Moon knocked a high bouncer down to third. Penny caught it easily and steppedon the bag for the force-out. She caught Mary Ann’s smile as the girls ran off the field together. “I needed that,” Penny
     said, feeling better.
    She reached the dugout and was about to sit down when she heard Harold calling out the names of the first three batters. “Farrell!
     Keech! Kowalski!” Oh, no! she thought, forgetting that Kim Soo had made the last out in the bottom of the second inning.
    Penny dropped her glove on the bench, walked to the pile of bats, selected her favorite yellow one, and went to the plate.
     She felt nervous and hot. A lot of things were on her mind. That error, for one, in spite of her redeeming herself on the
     next grounder hit down to her. The three girls. Harold. And her striking out her first time up.
    She let the first pitch sail by. “Strike!” cried the umpire, a six-foot, broad-shouldered guy towering behind the catcher.
    Who can I talk with about it? Penny asked herself. Who can I confide in?
    She was tempted to swing at the next pitch, but wasn’t ready.
    “Strike two!” boomed the umpire.
    “Relax, Penny!” Coach Parker’s voice drifted to her from the third-base coaching box. “Just meet it!”
    Penny stepped out of the box, shut her eyes tightly for a few seconds, took a deep breath, then opened her eyes and got back
     in the box again. The next pitch was a fast one that zoomed up near her shoulders. She swung at it, and missed.
    The cheer from the Hard Hats’ fans hit her as if it were a physical thing, and she returned to the dugout, not looking up
     once till she got there.
    “It’s only a ball game, Penny,” Melanie Fallon said to her as she gave Penny room to sit beside her. “Don’t feel so bad.”
    “I guess I just can’t help it,” said Penny, her heart pounding.
    Cries from other team members began exploding from the dugout. “Get on, Karen! Get on!”
    “Another long clout, Karen!”
    Karen lashed out a