The Ophirites began to whoop and howl. Their boys were making good, and they jubilated as only miners and cowboys can.
The first man to face Ellis Darrel for Ophir was the backstop. He stepped into the batter’s box with a smile, and cheerfully rapped out the first one over. A fellow named Dart, who played shortstop for the Gold Hillers, cuffed it down and snapped it to first. The ball beat the catcher by a yard.
“Tough luck, Joe,” commiserated Clancy, himself stepping to the plate. “Now,” he called, “put one over, Darrel, and I’ll show you what I can do.”
Darrel had good control and plenty of speed. Clancy decided to let the first ball pass, and then listened while the umpire called a strike on him.
“Don’t go to sleep, Red,” laughed Bleeker.
“Just getting waked up for the next one,” chuckled Clancy.
“Here she is.”
Clancy sawed the air, and spank went the ball in Bleek’s mitt.
“Not waked up yet?” jeered Bleek. “Well, well! How long are you going to wait?”
“I guess I’ve waited long enough,” said Clancy, and his bat met the next one on the nose.