Winston, confused and nervous at the sudden demand upon him, was still more flurried by the groan of surprised disappointment that went up from the crowded stands when he went into the box instead of Gray or Jim Phillips. Every one had supposed that one of the veteran twirlers would be sent in to pitch this highly important game, and Winston’s improvement under Dick Merriwell’s coaching had not become generally known.
After a little consultation, it had been decided that it would be better for Brady to do the catching. The big sophomore was famous for his ability to steady pitchers who were likely to go up in the air, and he did his best to encourage Winston, who was certainly in need of all that could be done in that way.
The Harvard captain, Bowen, made a quick shift as soon as he found that Winston was to pitch for Yale. It had been felt at Cambridge that a victory in this game was absolutely essential, and, therefore, after some hesitation, they had decided to send Briggs in to pitch, although he had had only a short rest after the terrific game in Cambridge, which Harvard had lost by the closest of scores. But now Wooley was chosen, for it was felt that he was more than a match for Winston, and Briggs could thus be saved for the deciding game.
The effect of the sudden change in Yale’s battery was twofold. It restored the waning confidence of the Harvard men, who were now certain that they could win, and thus prolong the struggle for the championship; and it depressed the Yale players, who had no such confidence in the skill of Winston as both Gray and Jim Phillips had been able to inspire.
Winston made a bad start, too, to help along the work of destroying what little confidence he had in himself. The first man up for Harvard made a lucky single, and when the next batter stood up at the plate, Bill Brady signaled for a swift outcurve, meaning to get a chance for a quick throw to second in case of an attempted steal. He was ready to catch such a curve, but Winston misunderstood him, and pitched to the other side of the plate. The ball got away from Bill, and the Harvard runner, who had started to steal second, easily reached third. Before the inning was over, in spite of Bill’s best efforts to steady him, Winston gave two bases on balls and hit a batsman, and, altogether, three Harvard men scored.
All through the stands, Harvard men were rejoicing; and the Yale rooters, just before so enthusiastic and happy, were cast down in anticipation of a crushing defeat. With such a start, there wasn’t any limit to the score Harvard might well pile up.
“This is Harvard’s day,” sang thousands of loyal Harvard men all around, and it certainly looked as if they were right. But Winston had good stuff in him. He got rid of his stage fright in the first inning, and, after that, obeying the signals from Brady implicitly, he proved himself simply unhittable. He had speed, control, and good judgment, and, try as they would, the Harvard men were unable to get on the bases as the game went on. Moreover, in the third inning, coming up with two out after Bill Brady had smashed out a two-bagger, Winston did much to redeem his poor pitching at the start by driving out a beautiful single that sent Brady home with Yale’s first run.
There was a tremendous cheer for him when he made that hit, and, although he had to come in without scoring himself when Sherman drove a long fly to the left fielder, poor Winston felt much better. There was still a good chance to win, he told himself, if he could keep Harvard from further scoring. Surely the team behind him ought to be able to make up those two runs that formed the Harvard lead. Anyhow, he settled down, and pitched his very best.
Meanwhile, Jim, after a moment’s talk with Sherman, had gone back under the stand with Taylor to limber up his arm. He felt that if there was need for it, he could safely pitch a couple of innings toward the end of the game, if Winston showed signs of tiring; and that might be enough to save the game yet, and win the championship for Yale in spite of the hard luck that had cost her the services of Gray when they were most needed.
The spirit of the Yale crowd soon turned. It saw that Winston, in spite of the handicap, was making good, and pitching well, despite his bad beginning, and it turned in and gave him support and applause just as hearty as would have fallen to Gray or Phillips. The team, too, took new courage, and went after the Harvard pitcher. In the sixth inning, Sherman led off with a hit, and, aided by his own fine base running and a hit by Carter, scored a run that left Yale only one tally behind. But to get that one extra run that would tie the score was the problem, and Wooley, with Briggs always in reserve, seemed able to prevent it.