“Fair hit!” cried the umpire.
Torrey dusted toward first, while Spangler, Jenners, and Swarton all moved up, Spangler making a dash for the plate.
In order to make a double play all Brad needed to do was to pick up the ball, touch the home plate, and throw to first.
Instead of doing this, Buckhart caught up the ball and threw toward first.
Spangler came romping home in safety, laughing in derisive satisfaction.
What added to the dismay of Dick and his companions was the fact that Buckhart threw over first, and before Smart could recover the ball and return it to the diamond, Torrey had reached the initial bag, while Jenners had followed Spangler to the plate and Swarton was well down the base line from second to third.
Fearing the boys would continue the bungling work by bad throwing, Dick shouted for Tubbs to hold the ball.
“Well, dern our picters!” shrilly cried the fat boy, as he stood with the ball in his hands, a look of disgust on his face. “We’re a lot of lobsters!”
Merriwell quickly ran up to Brad.
“What’s the matter with you, Buckhart? You’re entirely out of gear, old man. You had a double play right in your hands. Every runner was forced. Had you stepped on the plate after picking up the ball you could have retired Spangler.”