He was doing his level best; it was not in him to do more. He realized at last that he was going to miss the ball by inches—if he missed it.
Oh, that he could cover a little more ground! Oh, that he had wings!
His comrades knew how madly he was trying. They scarcely breathed.
“Good old Joe!” whispered Rattleton. “He can’t fail!”
But there are things beyond human accomplishment. It was possible for Gamp to fail.
He made a last great leap, his hands outstretched.
The ball barely touched the ends of his gloved fingers.
Three inches farther and he might have held it.
He did not catch it, and Elkton had won the game.
As soon as Joe could stop he looked after the ball a moment and then turned to walk in, refusing to chase and recover it.