“Billy Mac to bat!”
“Win the game, Billy!”
Yell after yell pealed across the field, as Billy Mac went forth. Peters conferred with his catcher, and steadied down his rather demoralized team, then went back to the box.
Billy looked like easy money. He swung widely at two teasers, and Franklin began to grin. With the next ball down, however, Billy suddenly changed his tactics and met it on the nose. The ball sailed up over second, continued its course beyond reach of the center fielder, and, before it was retrieved, two men had come in and Billy was grinning happily from third.
“Four to three! Hurray!”
The band struck into “Fair Fardale” and hundreds of voices picked up the song and thundered it forth as Merry was seen to step toward the plate, bat in hand. The chorus rose and shrilled up into a wild scream, drowning out the Franklin cries. Peters waited, then shot the ball down.
Frank struck—and missed.
Again Peters poised himself. Again he uncurled his slim length and sent the white sphere sizzling down. Again Merry swung wickedly at it, and missed.
The song died away and settled into silence. Peters grinned easily, glanced at Billy at third, and sent another hot one over the plate.
Merry struck. A sharp crack, and the ball began to rise. But the Franklin outfielders took one look at it, then flung up their gloves and ran in. It was a home run, and Fardale had won by one run!