“Gol-ding if it don’t look that way!” grinned the jay pitcher. “Who is the next batter?”
“Foley,” answered somebody. “You take his place. It’s your turn.”
“Then you jest watch me put the wood to the ball fer about two sacks,” laughed the odd fellow, as he began pawing over the bats.
While he was thus engaged Webber suddenly whirled and threw to first. The runner had been playing off, and he jumped to get back. The ball struck him and bounded away.
Instantly the coachers sent both runners. The baseman made a leap for the ball, got it, sent it to third. The runner was out easily, being tagged when at least four feet from the base.
Then the baseman threw to second. The runner from first would have been safe had he not made a slide that carried him past the bag, so that no part of his person was touching the base when the ball was put onto him.
“Out at third and second!” declared the umpire.
“Well, I’ll be dinged to goshfry!” gasped the jay, in deep disgust. “They hed to do it jest when I was going to ding the ball hard enough to knock the excelsior out of the old thing! Ain’t that the dad-ding-dest thing you ever seen!”
Webber laughed with satisfaction.
“It’s all over now!” cried the captain of the home team. “Strike out the Rube, Phil.”