“Yow!” he whooped, as he dropped his bat and started for first.
But he stopped short, for the ball had landed in the hands of Tinker, where it stuck.
Tinker snapped it to first to catch Rattleton.
Had the throw been accurate Harry would have been caught, but Cross was compelled to jump for it. He muffed it, giving Rattleton time to get back to the bag.
“Wouldn’t dot jar you!” half sobbed Hans, as he turned toward the bench. “I had dot pall labeled dree pags vor.”
“Oh, give up! give up!” laughed Wolfers. “You’re beaten.”
“It is my hour of glory,” said Ready, as he picked out a slugger and sauntered toward the plate.
“You’ll be a snap,” said the Elkton pitcher.
“Don’d you pelief him!” cried Hans. “Der pall can hit you easy. You vill a three-pagger get.”
“A safe hit wins this game,” declared Jack. “Merry follows me, and he will promulgate the ball out of the lot.”