The second batter fell a victim to a high, straight ball, which went up from his bat and landed in shortstop’s eager hands. The third man proved a harder proposition, for he knocked innumerable fouls all over the place, after Tom had wasted two balls on him, and refused to have his fate settled. Eventually, however, he rolled a slow one toward third and was out at first. His sacrifice, though, had put the first runner on the last sack and Lynton in the stand chanted lustily in an endeavour to rattle the Blues’ battery. But Walter worked carefully and Tom, following instructions, launched a low ball that was called a strike, a high one, outside, that went as a ball, an out-shoot that found the batsman napping and went as a second strike, and a straight, fast one that cut the plate squarely in the centre, but was several inches too low. Then, with the score two and two, a low ball met the tip of the bat and went up and out into right field and straight down into the fielder’s hands, and another inning had passed into history and the score was still 4 to 4.
Then Buster grabbed a bat and faced the Lynton hurler. The first delivery was a strike. Then came two balls, followed by a foul tip that smashed against the back-stop and made the second strike. The next offer looked good from the bench, but Buster disdained it, and when it crossed the plate it was so low that the umpire called it a ball. It was up to the pitcher then to put one across, and he did so. Or, rather, it would have gone across if Buster had not swung easily and sent it singing over pitcher’s head and into short centre for a base.
The Blues on the bench shouted and cavorted, and Thorny hustled over to third to coach, and Tommy, back of first, pawed the earth and made as much noise as a steam whistle! Walter White was up and the Lynton pitcher for once looked a little dismayed and nervous. Buster caused all sorts of trouble on first and the pitcher wasted much energy trying to catch him napping. But Buster, although he took daring leads, somehow always managed to scurry back to safety before the ball slapped into first baseman’s hands. And all the time Tommy, leaping and waving his arms, shouted a rigmarole of ridiculous advice which no sensible base runner would ever have heeded and which Buster payed no attention to.
“That’s the boy!” shouted Tommy. “Down with his arm! Up with his foot! Slide! Slide! Whee-ee! Safe on second! Look out! Whoa, Bill! Now you’re off! Run, you rabbit! Whoa! Never touched him! Twenty minutes, Mr. Umpire! There he goes! Watch him, watch him! Hi! hi! hi! hi! Take a lead, Buster, take a lead! He can’t throw this far! All right! Up again! How was that for a balk, Mr. Umpire? All right, Buster, he didn’t see it. Off you go. That’s good! Hold it! On your toes, boy, on your toes! Now you’re off!”
And meanwhile Thorny, behind third, was adding his voice to the uproar and the Lynton pitcher, finally giving up Buster as a bad job, directed his attention to the batsman and sent in three balls, one after another! Then a strike was called and then there was another ball and Walter trotted to first and Buster cavorted to second.
It was Tom’s turn again. As thus far he had failed to connect with the ball, and as he was a pitcher and therefore supposed to be a weak batsman, the Lynton battery made the mistake of trying to put him out of the way expeditiously with straight balls. Tom let two strikes get by him before he realised that he was being offered perfectly good balls with little or nothing on them. Then he took a good deep breath into his lungs, gripped his bat more firmly, and swung at the next delivery. Bat and ball met squarely and pandemonium reigned while Buster tore around from second and Walter made for third. For the ball, arching gently, was on its way into centre field, quite safe from either left fielder or centre fielder. It was the latter who got it finally on the bound and hurled it back to second base. But by that time Buster had scored, Walter was on third, and Tom was doubling back to first base and safety.
Perhaps Tommy had wearied himself overmuch in the coacher’s box. At all events, he failed miserably to live up to expectations, popping a short fly into pitcher’s hands. Young Peddie was the next up and the inning was as good as over, or should have been. But it is the unexpected that makes baseball what it is, and it was the unexpected that happened now. In some mysterious way, after swinging wildly and hopelessly at two wide ones and by the merest good luck refusing to notice a drop that went as a ball, Peddie managed to get his bat in front of a straight high ball. The ball trickled off the willow and went midway between the plate and the pitcher’s box. Off raced Peddie toward first and in raced Walter from third. It was the pitcher who finally fielded the ball, although the catcher had started after it, too. Perhaps the pitcher forgot for the moment that there were two out when he saw Walter scuttling to the plate. At any rate, what he did, instead of throwing to first for an easy out, was to make a frantic and hurried toss to the plate. The catcher, not expecting it, was out of position to take the ball, and, although he did manage to get it, he was a yard away from the rubber and it was an easy trick for Walter to slide around behind him and score.
The game was won then and there, as it afterward proved. Tom reached third in the confusion and when Sanborn came to bat a minute later the Lynton pitcher and, in fact, the whole Lynton team, was up the air with a vengeance. Sanborn connected with an in-shoot and third baseman fumbled it. When he recovered the ball Sanborn was nearly to first and the baseman’s throw was hurried and wild. Sanborn kept on to second while first baseman chased back toward the fence for the ball, Tom scurried home, and young Peddie went to third. With the bases full, even with two out, the Blues’ chance of adding more runs to their tally seemed excellent. But Smith was over-anxious and when, finally, after spoiling four good ones, he started the ball away it went slowly down to second base and Peddie was caught off the bag.
It only remained now for Tom to hold the advantage of three runs, and this Tom managed to do, even though Lynton showed a strong disposition to “come back” hard in her half of the tenth. Two hits were made off Tom and a runner got as far as third. Tom showed unsteadiness for the first time and it took all Walter’s skill to pull him through a bad situation when, with only one out and two on bases, one of Lynton’s best batters faced him. But Fortune stood by the Blues. A long fly made the second out and let in only one run, and Tom and his team-mates breathed easier. Then, recovering himself finely, Tom set to work and disposed of the last batsman with just four balls, and the game was over!
Seven to five was the final score, and the Amesville Blues, bat-bags and luggage in hand, went back to the trolley station with something of a swagger, followed by a throng of young Lynton citizens who tried to appease their disappointment by jeers and hoots. But the Blues could afford to be magnanimous and forgiving, and so they trudged ahead and paid no attention to their tormentors and were soon in the trolley car, speeding back to Amesville.