As the ball sped by, far above his head, Marty O'Malley leaped twenty feet in the air. As he did this he swung his unerring timber. Just as he had planned, the flying, whizzing sphere struck the under side of his bat, and glancing downward with fearful force, went crashing into the dark, malignant visage of Dennis Mulcahey, upturned to mark its flight. The fragile mask was broken; the features were crushed into complete confusion with the awful inveteracy of the ball.
Dennis Mulcahey fell as one dead. As he was borne away another umpire was sent to his post. Marty O'Malley bent a glance of intelligence on the change pitcher of the Shantytowns, who had taken the place of the miscreant Dermis, and whispered loud enough to resell from plate to box:
“Now, gimme a fair ball!”
CHAPTER VI
And so the day was won; the Shamrocks basted the Shantytowns by the score of 15 to 2. As for Marty O'Malley, his score stood:
Ab. R. H. Po. A. E.
O'Malley, c,....4 4 4 10 14 0
No such record had ever been made on the grounds. With four times at bat, Marty O'Malley did so well, withal, that he scored a base hit, two three-baggers and a home-run.
That night Marty O'Malley wedded the rich and beautiful Gwendolin O'Toole. Jack, the faithful bar-boy of the Fielders' Rest, officiated as groomsman. Godfrey O'Toole, haughty and proud, was yet a square sport, and gave the bride away.