In addition to this, the others of the team were in thorough sympathy with their pitcher. He had been one of them from the beginning of the season, and had deported himself with cleverness that won the liking of not a few. There were no jealousies and heartburnings to combat. They were beginning, also, to feel a certain measure of confidence in him, and their support was of the finished Big League sort, plus enthusiasm, which was a joy to see.
It was quite the contrary with their opponents. Though they might not realize it, the majority were still sore at having this busher put on the slab for such an important game. They had no confidence in his ability to pull out successfully, and, though their playing was mechanically perfect, their support was that of men who are thinking of themselves and their averages.
During the last of the sixth the Hornets scored another tally on an error of the opposing shortstop, and the fans sat back comfortably, assured that the game was safe.
With the opening of the seventh, there was a sudden billowing up of the crowd throughout the entire circle of stands and bleachers. They stretched themselves and stamped their feet until the noise was like the deafening rattle of stage thunder. The visitors, though fearful of defeat, nevertheless raised the stentorian cry of “Lucky seventh! Lucky seventh! Here’s where we do it!”
Eddie Lewis, the Blue Stockings’ shortstop, was the first man up. Elgin eyed him critically, and, remembering that he had caught the man with an inshoot once before, decided to repeat the trick. He had been growing more and more cocksure as the game progressed, so, when Fargo called for a straight, fast high ball, Elgin responded with his own views on the subject. It was time, he decided, that he cut loose from the backstop’s apron-strings. He had been hitched to them too long already.
Fargo repeated his signal, but Elgin shook his head obstinately. Finally he got the signal he wanted. Lewis stepped swiftly back; there was a ringing crack; the horsehide whizzed straight at Elgin, who—ducked!
He had never done such a thing before, but the total unexpectedness of the hit, and the fact that the sphere was humming straight at his head with the speed of a cannon ball, deprived him for a second of reason, and made his act instinctive.
Lewis got to first easily. The entire Hornets’ infield made various caustic comments. From the stands the fickle crowd showered insults which brought the color flaming into Elgin’s face and made him drop the ball when he received it from the outfielder.
The incident so disturbed him that he proceeded to present Nelson with a free pass, which brought loud cheers from the Blue Stockings’ rooters, and more unflattering comments from the upholders of the home team.
“He’s going up! He’s going up!” chanted the visiting fans, grasping at a straw. “Send him to the stable! Put the blanket on him!”