“Costigan will get it!” cried several voices, as the stocky left fielder raced back after the ball.
“He can’t reach it!” cried others.
“Gamp ought to be out there now,” shouted somebody.
The coachers yelled and motioned for the runners to keep right on, for it was plain that the ball was going over Costigan’s head.
Thornton dashed over second and made for third. He was running fast, but Hodge seemed to fly.
“Watch Hodge cover ground,” called Frank in Capt. Hardy’s ear. “How is that for running?”
Hardy did not say a word, but he was astonished, for he did not dream Hodge could run so fast. Frank Merriwell was a swift man on the bases, but it seemed that Bart Hodge was getting along quite as fast as Frank could.
Costigan strained every nerve to get under the ball, and made a flying leap into the air for it, but it was just beyond his reach, and he did not even touch it.
“Gamp would have caught it,” somebody declared.
While the left fielder was chasing the ball, which went bounding along the ground, the runners were making a streak round the diamond. When Thornton passed over third, Hodge was halfway between second and third. When Thornton crossed the plate, Hodge was close at his heels, and both men scored.