Billy Mac pointed to the river, which ran about a hundred yards behind the fence.
“No home runs in this field,” he said, “unless the ball goes into the river. You see, the diamond inclosure is a little small, Chip. Outside of the fence it’s marshy, and it would have cost a lot to fill in. So they compromised on that ground rule. If the ball goes into the river, it’s a home run. It’s never yet gone in, though.”
“Queer kind of ground rule,” growled Clancy. “But there’s no accounting for tastes, so let’s try to put the ball in the water, fellows!”
“We’l-l-l try,” piped Chub resolutely. “When do we practice?”
“Right now,” exclaimed Frank. “We’re a little early, so we’ll get to work and let the Clippers howl, if they want to.”
When the Clippings walked out, they were greeted by a long yell from the fans. Then there rose a buzz of voices as the players trotted out to their places, and Merry began to drive hot ones along the infield.
Every one was wondering how the home talent would show up. No sooner had the ball begun to snap around the bases than shout after shout pealed up. Despite their rare and wonderful uniforms, the Clippings showed form!
Even Frank was surprised. On the level diamond his team proved that they could do something, after all. They went after the ball with ginger, and the way they snapped it up was astonishing.
The Clippers now produced themselves, and promptly spread out behind the foul lines to inspect their opponents. They delivered themselves of comments, which were audible over most of the field.
“Look at the uniforms!” yelled Squint Fletcher. “They used them kind fifty years ago! Pipe the Irish third baseman! Wow!”