“Who told you so much?” grinned Sparks.
“It’s all settled,” declared Bart. “Shut your eyes next time you swing. You’ll do just as well.”
He was trying to bother the batter by talking to him.
Frank attempted to fool Sparks with the next ball pitched. To his dismay, he realized the moment the ball left his hand that it was certain to curve over the plate.
Sparks was watching like a hawk. He saw the ball break and judged it correctly.
A moment later he hit it.
At the crack of ball and bat the spectators seemed to rise as one man. They saw the ball go sailing out on a line, rising higher gradually. It was a long, hard drive, not a rainbow fly.
Sprowl and Kitson capered along over the bags.
Gamp stretched his long legs in an effort to get under the ball. He covered ground with amazing strides.
“All to the mustard!” yelled Rush. “He couldn’t touch it in a thousand years! The game is ours, boys! We had to have it!”