Ready was disgusted and desperate. He realized that he could not do much trying to hit the ball hard, and so he resolved on an attempt to sacrifice.
Unfortunately for Jack, he met the ball a trifle too hard, and it went straight into the hands of Waldron, who picked it up clean and whirled as if to throw it to the plate or to third. This forced Frank back to third, and then Waldron quickly threw Ready out at first.
Two men were gone, and now it did seem that the visitors had little show of making a run.
“T’rowin’ dat bat between Merriwell’s feet’s wot kept ’em from scorin’, Bud,” said Squinty, who was again on the bench at the side of his brother.
“T’rowin’ dat bat at him is wot gave me dis eye!” growled Bud. “I didn’t s’pose dat gilly could hit like dat, else I’d been ready fer him.”
“Dat’s der way wid me,” said Jim. “I didn’t have no idea his kid broder could fight like he can.”
“But I’ll settle wid Merriwell yit!” vowed Bud. “Next time I’ll soak him hard!”
“An’ I’m goin’ ter git a crack at der kid,” asserted Squinty. “I’ll knock his everlastin’ block off!”
Carson looked determined enough as he came up to hit. He felt the responsibility of the occasion and wondered if he could meet it. Something told him that the game was to be one in which a single lost opportunity might stand for defeat.
Carson let two balls pass, one of which was called a strike. Then he met one and sent it out on a line. The pitcher tried to dodge, turning his back so that the ball struck him between the shoulders and bounded off in a direct line to the short-stop, who gathered it in and whistled it over to first.