“Play ball!” cried the umpire.
“Now we’re off!” squeaked Obediah Tubbs. “Git right after her, fellers!”
A year before Ware had been rather slender and slight, but in the last twelve months he had developed wonderfully, and was now a rather well-built chap. With the ball in his hands, which were pressed together in front of his breast, he settled himself on his feet with his toe upon the slab.
Barron Black took his place at the plate, and barely was he in position when the Fairport player delivered the ball, which whistled past the batter’s shoulders, so near that the latter was driven back a little.
Warren snapped the ball back to Ware, who sent it in a second time with astonishing quickness, catching Barron slightly off his balance and thus securing a called strike.
Instantly Dick spoke to the players near him on the bench.
“Look out for that trick of his, boys. You saw how he worked it. Don’t let him play that on you. Be ready for the next one when he drives you back with an inshoot.”
With two strikes and two balls called, Black hit a hot one along the ground between Macon and Roberts. Macon managed to touch it so that it was deflected and bounded straight into Roberts’ hands.
The shortstop sent it humming across to first, and the leading Fardale batter was out.
“There you are!” shouted the Fairport crowd. “That’s the way we do it!”