The Blues came back in the first of the fifth and, by a lucky infield hit that bounded meanly, placed a runner on the first bag. Tommy Hughes sacrificed with a long fly to right and put the runner on third. A moment later the score was tied when one of the tail-enders made a slashing wallop over second baseman’s head. At one to one the teams battled along until the seventh. Then ill-fortune took a hand in affairs. The Lynton third baseman caught a slow ball on his bat and smashed it straight at Thorny. The latter might readily have been excused for jumping away from it and leaving it for second baseman to handle, but instead of that he tried to knock it down—catching it was almost out of the question—and succeeded. But the ball caught him squarely on his throwing wrist and in the agony of the pain Thorny was unable to get it to first in time to head off the runner. Time was called while Walter White went down and rubbed the injured hand, and presently Thorny went on again. But after he had pitched a few more balls the wrist began to swell and stiffen and his offerings became very easy for the enemy. For the rest of that inning smart fielding delayed the inevitable, and, although Lynton got a runner on third and another on first, they died there.
Thorny walked rather dejectedly to the bench and his team-mates clustered anxiously about him and viewed the swollen wrist.
“Cold water is what you want there,” said Tommy Hughes. “Who’s got a handkerchief?”
When one was forthcoming Tommy wet it at the water pail and bound it around the wrist.
“It feels good,” said Thorny, “but I don’t believe I’ll be able to pitch any more, fellows. I’m awfully sorry. I ought to have let that pesky ball go by. It was coming about a mile a minute. Can’t you finish the game out, Buster?”
“Me?” Buster looked startled. “Gee, I couldn’t pitch anything those fellows wouldn’t make mince-meat of!”
“I’ll try it,” said Walter doubtfully, “if you’ll go behind the bat, Buster.”
“Then who’ll take first?”
“Move Sanborn over from third and let Tommy take Sanborn’s place,” suggested Thorny. “Then put young Peddie in centre.”
“All right. Can you bat this inning? You’re up after Tommy.”