Next came Ballinger, the catcher. Like most men behind the bat, accustomed to seeing all manner of balls coming toward men throughout the whole game, Ballinger was a fairly good man with the stick. He believed he could pick out a good one, and do something worth while.
His best was a high fly that Ty gathered in away out in deep center; but after the ball settled in his hands McDowd managed to make third, again by a slide, at which he seemed particularly clever.
It was now up to Matt Tubbs. Adopting the tactics of his rival when Lil Artha was at bat, Elmer sought to pass the hard-hitting pitcher of the Fairfields. He had given two balls when Matt reached out, and took one that was intended as a wide curve.
It shot past Matty near second, and went buzzing out into the field. Even then it was tagged with so much speed that before it could be sent in home McDowd had scored, and Tubbs was nestled on the second bag.
Then arose a fearful roar. If only Wagner had found his batting eye he would surely send his captain home with the tying run.
"Lucky seven, Felix! You know what we want! Everybody holler!"
Such a terrible racket as ensued. Of course part of this came from excitement; but there was also a desire to put heart in the Fairfield players, as well as to rattle Elmer.
He showed no sign of going to pieces. His manner would indicate that he was as cool as a cucumber. Wagner was dancing around the home plate, trying to tantalize the opposing pitcher.
"Strike one!" called the umpire, as a good one whizzed past.
"Get up against it, Felix. Quit your kiddin', and do business. It only takes one to bring Matt in!" shouted a player.