The seventh began with another shock to our friends’ nerves. Bryant made a two-bagger. His two successors, however, went out on hits to O’Brien, and presently Bryant himself, working too far from his base, was cut off by a sudden throw to second, and run down ignominiously between second and third.
“Now, Mr. Owen, do something!” muttered Duncan, as the Harvard catcher came to the plate. Owen responded to the unheard appeal by a hot bounder over second which the Yale centre fielder allowed to bounce past him, thus helping the runner to second. Williams drove a troublesome ball into McPherson’s hands, and while the old Seaton second baseman was struggling to get hold of it, Owen reached third and Williams crossed first. The Harvard freshies now tried a squeeze play, and Manning not only met the ball, but made a pretty little hit over Bryant’s head, that would have brought Owen in, if he had not already crossed the plate. A sacrifice now advanced Williams and Manning to third and second. Then Gooding, the Yale pitcher, got three balls on his first three pitches to Silverton, and the Harvard man, waiting for his good one, drove a long single out between right and centre fields that let in Williams and Manning with scores two and three. Two easy outs followed.
“Three to two!” cried Sam, joyfully. “Two more innings!”
“It’s too close for comfort yet,” said Duncan, nervously. “I’d give a month’s allowance to see the game end now. That’s Coy up, isn’t it?”
But Coy swung three times in vain at his old pitcher’s curves. One of his successors reached first, but two others went out and left him there. The Harvard men fared no better.
“Three more outs. It ought to be dead easy,” muttered Sam, as the ninth began. The first Yale man at the bat drove a ball into left field that looked good for two bases. But Latter got in front of it and sent it in to second in season to scare the runner back to first. A big bony chap followed at the plate.
“That’s Kleindienst. He used to play with Hillbury. He can hit. They’re going to do us right here. I feel it in my bones.” Duncan jerked out his words in curt explosives. “There! he’s done it!” he groaned, as the batsman drove the ball in a long sweep over third base.
“No, it struck outside the foul line!” cried Sam, eagerly, as the applause on the Yale side died suddenly away. “See! he’s gone back to the plate!”
“And got a strike for it, too,” said the reviving Duncan. “That’s where the foul strike rule hits ’em.”
While he spoke O’Brien sent in another pitch. Kleindienst hit another foul. This time the ball careened over towards the stands opposite first base. Owen tipped off his mask and ran headlong in pursuit. He took the descending ball with hands outstretched; and while the howl of applause was yet at its beginning, he turned sharply and threw to first base. The Yale man scrambled wildly back, but the ball was there before him. Williams fielded the next man out at first.