“But things are liable to change from now on!” declared one of the boys on the bench, when casual mention of this lamentable fact was made. “It’s time Cliffwood woke up from this Rip Van Winkle sleep, and made its mark in the world.”
“That time is going to come right away,” asserted the pitcher of his nine, a vigorous lad, Dick Horner by name, and who seemed to be a leader among the boys.
“It’s as certain as can be, or my name isn’t Leslie Capes!” declared the catcher, who was Dick Horner’s most intimate chum.
“Well, Cliffwood,” observed a third youth earnestly, “is a far different town from what it used to be before Mr. Holwell, the minister, and Harry Bartlett, leader of our local Y. M. C. A., organized the Boys’ Department.”
“That’s what nearly every one tells us, Elmer,” returned the sanguine Dick. “And by the coming fall we hope to be able to put a decent football squad in the field, to stand for our home town.”
“I’m mighty glad to hear that, Dick!” exclaimed still another of the players, Phil Harkness by name. And then raising his voice to a shout he went on to say: “Three balls and two strikes, Andy! Make Nat put the ball over, and meet his fast clipper for a homer!”
Almost immediately following the giving of this advice came the crack of the bat as it caught one of Nat Silmore’s speediest balls “on the nose.” The boy on second sprinted for home because he knew that was the play, there being already two out.
Away out in deep center Alonzo Crane made a vigorous effort to get the swift liner. He was coming in on a gallop, hoping to take the ball in his outstretched hands before it could touch the ground.
The onlookers saw Alonzo fairly hurl himself forward in a gallant attempt to make the spectacular play. Then he fell, rolled over several times, and arose finally with the ball held triumphantly above his head.
Nat and his side emitted a roar of applause, and with wild whoops started toward the home plate, as though that play ended the inning.