Four to three now! Only one run needed to tie! Two out, but a man on third! If only Porter could make good! Mr. Gifford consulted Thursby and The Wigwam waited anxiously. Then a cheer went up, for Peterson was off the bench and pawing at the bats! Porter was coming out! Peterson was to bat for him! A hit would tie the game!
Dan Peterson received a veritable ovation as he hurried to the plate. He was loudly invited to contribute a hit, a two-bagger, a home run! To bust it! To tear the cover off! To—to——
Then quiet returned, or, rather, comparative quiet, for the coachers had no intention of letting up on their babel. From back of first base Joe Groom shouted at the top of his lungs to Sam on third, and back of Sam Mr. Gifford clapped his hands and added to the noise. And then Mr. Williams brought down upon himself ridicule and wrath by deliberately passing Peterson! The Wigwam was incensed indeed! Mount Placid and Greenwood, however, laughed and applauded, and Peterson, deprived of the chance to distinguish himself as a pinch-hitter, scowled darkly at Mr. Williams as he walked unwillingly to base.
Steve Brown was up then, and Steve had played in hard luck all day. Not once had he been able to get to first. This rankled in Steve’s breast, and as he faced the Mount Placid pitcher he resolved that this time, his last opportunity, he would not be foiled! On the first ball pitched Peterson legged it for second and Sam danced forward halfway along the base line toward home. But Hanford knew better than to risk a throw to second and contented himself with a motion that sent Sam scuttling back to third. Steve had offered at the delivery and so had one strike on him. To bring in a run he must hit safely and Steve waited his chance. But before it came something happened.
On second Peterson, perhaps disgruntled at the trick worked on him, was set on showing his contempt for the enemy by risking a lead that simply cried for punishment. On each wind-up he went fully half the distance to third. Now Hanford was canny enough, but that was too great a temptation for him to resist. And so he gave a signal, Mr. Williams turned quickly, stepped out and shot the ball to shortstop. Peterson was twelve feet off base and there was but one thing to do and that was to keep away from the ball long enough for Sam to score. So he set out toward third and Sam looked on and watched his chance. It came when shortstop tossed the ball over Peterson’s head to third baseman. Then Sam set out desperately. And that, of course, was what Hanford wanted. Third baseman turned and pegged to the plate while Sam was still ten feet away. But, alas for Hanford’s hopes! The ball slammed into the dust and, although he tried desperately to get it, he failed, and while he was still groping for it with one hand and striving to block off Sam with his body that youth slid to safety in a cloud of red dust and Peterson romped to third!
Mount Placid listened gloomily to the visitors’ wild outpouring of joy, saw them drag the runner to his feet and pull him ecstatically to the bench, saw Hanford, rather pale and wrathful, slap the dust from his clothes, recover his mask, and disspiritedly send the ball back to Mr. Williams; saw, too, Mr. Connell on third trying his best to look as if he didn’t know he had thrown the game away!
“W! Rah! I! Rah! G! Rah, rah, rah! W! Rah! A! Rah! M! Rah, rah, rah! Wigwam! Wigwam!! Wigwa-a-arm!!!” And Dick Barry cavorting about like a thing built of springs, waving his arms and kicking his legs and shouting his voice away! And the score 4 to 4, and everyone on the third base side very, very happy and noisy!
And then, after a minute, when one more run might have given the visitors the victory, when Steve had still another strike to be scored against him, Peterson, made careless by his previous good fortune, took just that extra inch forbidden by safety—and the coacher—and slid back to the bag too late!
That was disappointing, but there was another inning, and if only they could keep Mount Placid from adding to her score; and could themselves put just one other little tally across——
And so Mount Placid went to bat for her half of the eighth looking firmly resolved to do or die, and Mr. Gifford, pulling a pitcher’s glove on, stepped into the box to do his best. Peterson took the councillor’s place in left field, Peterson rather chastened in spirit now. Mr. Williams, first batter, was an easy victim to the infield, going out at first, Steve to Murdock, and Cather followed him, the assist going to Tom Crossbush. That brought the head of the Mount Placid list up, and Mr. Cochran had a fearsome glint in his eye as he faced the substitute pitcher. Mr. Gifford’s offerings were not very baffling and the rival first baseman landed on the second delivery and sent it speeding down the alley between shortstop and third. One base was all he got, however, for Joe Groom, running in like a streak, fielded prettily to second. Then Benson followed with a hit past third and Mount Placid had runners on first and second. But the danger was over a moment later when Smith, lifting a long fly to the outfield, saw it settle cosily into Simpson’s hands.