“We’ve got ’em!” whooped Clancy as he ran in. “One, two, three!”
“Easy money,” cried Billy, and Chip touched his cap to the yelling grand stand as the Fardale cheer ripped out.
Fardale’s hopes received an abrupt shock, however. Smiling a little, but saying nothing, Green put over nine pitched balls, and retired Lowe, O’Day, and Kess!
“He can’t pitch anything but strikes!” gasped Clancy.
“Don’d you see dot sbeed!” muttered Villum. “Dot pall a pullet vos, so hellup me!”
“We’re up against something pretty hard, fellows,” said Chip, as they went out. “Everybody pull together, now, and we’ll win.”
His confidence had been sorely shaken, however. Smith strode out and landed on Frank’s first ball for a foul that went up over the grand stand. Twice more he fouled, but the double shoot retired him finally.
“They’re all bad actors,” cried Lowe from third. “Let ’em hit it, Chip!”
Olcott, the new Clipper catcher, was a short man, with tremendously wide shoulders. Chip tried him with a low fadeaway, but Olcott chortled with glee and fell on it. The ball rose and began to travel for the right-field fence.
O’Day raced back, then stopped short. The crowd hooted, for the ball seemed certain to go far beyond him. The fans had forgotten the wind, however, and, when the sphere came down it nestled into O’Day’s glove, and stuck there. Johnson fanned, and the Fardales went to bat.