"Play ball!" shouted the umpire, as he settled himself back of the pitcher.
Again came silence as Elmer, receiving the ball from first base, rubbed it on the leg of his trousers preparatory to shooting the first one over.
A shout went up. Wagner, the stout second baseman, had failed to judge correctly and "one strike" was recorded against him.
"But did you hear the swish of his bat?" demanded the Fairfield enthusiast. "Say, if ever he leans up against one of those curves, good-by to the ball, that's all."
"Sure! Only let him lean; that's what we say. He just can't do it on Elmer," answered a devoted Hickory Ridge lad near by.
Then came a second strike, followed by a foul. Wagner looked puzzled. Evidently he was watching the pitcher closely and going by his signals to the catcher, but as these had been turned almost completely about, he mistook every one of them and was letting himself out at what would easily have been called balls.
When for the third time he had a strike called on him the batter retired amid a storm of mingled cheers and catcalls. He had allowed a good ball to pass by him without making an effort to strike, believing from the gestures of Elmer that it was meant to be a wide one.
Wagner went off, shaking his head. He was evidently mystified, and the Fairfield crowd began to sit up and take notice.
"That's a funny thing for Felix to do," they commented. "He's the most reliable batter in our bunch, and yet he acts as though he didn't know a good one from a wide curve a foot from the plate. Say, that pitcher must have him locoed."
Next came Adrian Cook. He, too, was known as a hitter, and when he stepped to the batter's line the fielders were accustomed to backing off, ready for a terrific drive.