A moment later, Lefty shot the ball back with a quick return, and, though he was not taken off his guard, the batter missed again.
The murmur rose.
Then Locke tried that slow, lingering ball which he could so cleverly deliver after going through movements which seemed to promise great speed.
Unfortunately Fargo had seen him try that same trick more than once, and he refused to be fooled. Watching the horsehide as it came up and dropped toward the ground, he let it settle into the catcher’s hands without having moved his stick.
The Hornets’ fans had a chance to yell, but their uproar was swiftly cut short. Now was the moment of greatest suspense. The next ball delivered would be decisive.
After what seemed an eternity, but which was, in reality, the briefest sort of pause, the southpaw pitched.
Fargo met the sphere on the trademark and sent it humming out on a line with the speed of a bullet.
CHAPTER XLII
THE TRUTH AT LAST
Like a flash, thousands of fans were on their feet. The roar which reverberated back and forth in the great inclosure was enough to shake the row of eagles ornamenting the roof of the grandstand. Hagin was off like a rocket. Siegrist was not far behind. Fargo himself showed that backstopping was not his only strong point.