It was a wasted effort, for Dean fanned, and the Forest Hills boys took the field again.
“That’s the biggest surprise I ever had,” Dick said, as he sprang up from the bench. “I didn’t think he had it in him.”
“Wouldn’t have given ten cents for him that many minutes ago,” growled Buckhart, buckling his chest protector with a jerk. “He’s sure been well trained.”
Max Unger, right field, started the inning with a high fly between short and third, which Garland misjudged, giving Unger plenty of time to jog to first. He was followed by Foy, the miner’s third baseman, who lined a red hot single into the outfield.
Hodgson, shortstop, knocked a foul back of first, which Gardiner gathered in; and Hall, the Mispah first baseman, fanned in short order.
At second, Unger had been inclined at first to lead off pretty well, but two or three sudden throws from Merriwell, prompted by Buckhart’s signals warned him to stick close to the hassock.
With two men out and two on bases, Mike Slavinsky, a stalwart Pole, came to the bat.
“Now, Slavvy, take it easy,” admonished the mine owner. “Don’t try to knock the cover off the ball. Just a nice little single. Rooney comes next, you know.”
The big fellow grinned a little as he squared himself at the plate. But in spite of this warning, he swung at the first ball with such force that he turned halfway around.
“Easy now,” cautioned Fairchilds—“take it easy.”