The Doncaster Club, familiarly known as the “Billies,” were the opponents this afternoon, playing the third contest of a four-game series. The score-board showed Doncaster leading by two runs obtained in the first inning. Wayne squandered another five cents and bought a score-card which informed him of the batting order. A neighbour ended his doubt as to which of the three pitchers on the card was really performing by telling him over his shoulder that “Wainwright’s in the box and Linton’s catching. They worked him for a pass and a three-bagger in the first. Henderson and Coe’s the Billies’ battery.” Wayne thanked him and turned his attention back to the game in time to see the third Doncaster man thrown out at first.
After that the game dragged for several innings, with neither team getting past second. Wayne recognised several of the players he had watched in the morning, notably O’Neill, the lanky, tow-headed left fielder, and a small, lithe youngster named Bennett who played third base as if he had a bunch of steel springs inside him. In spite of the distance to the bench, Wayne easily made out Steve Milburn and “Red” Herring and thought the smaller man next to “Red” was Nye. The crowd in the bleachers kept up an incessant, good-natured flow of comment and advice. O’Neill—Wayne learned before the game was over that his popular nickname was “Sailor”—was a great favourite with the bleacherites and frequently turned to wave a hand or shout a pat reply to some remark aimed at him. The bleacherites had other favourites as well: young Bennett and Nick Crane, the first-choice pitcher, and a swarthy, broad-shouldered, long-limbed first baseman named Morgan. And Wayne gathered in the course of the contest that Steve Milburn was held in the utmost respect as a manager and was personally popular to a degree.
Wayne thought that the manager’s “bawling-out” that forenoon had done good, for the Harrisville team was certainly on its toes all the time and played with a snap. Only the total inability to hit the Billies’ pitcher safely kept the home club from scoring. Henderson was slammed here, there, and everywhere, but there was always a man right on the spot to spoil the hit. However, the Badgers did manage to get a run across in the fifth when Cross, who played shortstop and captained the team, beat out a roller to first, was sacrificed to second, and won home on a long fly to right fielder. But Doncaster came back in the next inning and found Wainwright for two hits and a sacrifice and took back her lead of two tallies.
June was having a fine time with a bag of peanuts, which he shared with Sam, and was already a violent partisan of the Harrisville Badgers. His comments, voiced for Wayne’s ear alone but audible to the nearby spectators, aroused much mirth. Wayne didn’t hear them all, for he was busy watching the players and their methods. He saw several tricks that were new to his experience. For instance, a Doncaster coach at third insisted that a runner who had reached that base should keep outside the foul line, something that the runner repeatedly neglected to do. That puzzled Wayne for the better part of two innings and wasn’t solved until a batter hit sharply to young Bennett, whereupon Wayne realised that had a runner been on fair ground he would probably have been hit by the ball and so been put out. By keeping on foul territory he was safe. He stored the fact away in his memory for future use. Most of all he watched the playing of Jones, the second baseman. Jones was short and a bit heavy-looking, but he seemed fast enough in action and certainly played a good, steady game. At bat he was not dangerous that afternoon, but, for that matter, none of the Badgers was. Wayne asked the man behind him, who had volunteered the information about the batteries, what sort of a hitter Jones was and the man pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders.
“Clover Jones? We-ell, he ain’t so bad as some. He bats better’n Tim Leary. I’ve seen Clover everlastingly wallop the ball an’ then again I’ve seen him go a week without making a hit. You can’t tell about Clover. He’s a good baseman, though. Ain’t anybody hitting today. That feller Henderson’s got a lot on the ball, I guess.”
But even Henderson, who ranked high in the Tri-State League, couldn’t keep it up to the end, and when the eighth inning came Sailor O’Neill brought yelps of joy from the stands by leading off with the Badgers’ fourth safe hit of the game, a sharp liner that whizzed over shortstop’s head and let O’Neill reach second base by a hair’s breadth. Then Leary struck out. Linton, the catcher, laid down a bunt in front of the plate and the Billies’ backstop chose to head off O’Neill at third. But his hurried throw went wide, O’Neill scored and Linton slid into second. With but one down there was a fine chance of evening up the score or winning, and Wayne wasn’t surprised when the delay at the plate resulted in the arrival there of a pinch-hitter in the person of Fawcett, a substitute outfielder. Fawcett’s appearance was greeted joyfully by the bleachers and he received a deal of advice. Fawcett, however, failed to deliver the needed hit, for, after swinging at two good ones and missing them, he stood idle, while a third sailed across the plate. Bennett was the remaining hope, and Bennett came across nicely. He allowed Henderson to put him in the hole to the tune of two-and-one, refused a wide one and a drop, and then connected with the next offering and banged it hard at the hole between second and shortstop. The pitcher nearly reached it but failed, and the ball sailed serenely over the second bag and Linton scuttled home with the tying run.
The inning ended when Briggs, centre fielder, flied out to first baseman, and with the score three to three the game went through the ninth and started the tenth. By this time ennui was no longer discernible in stands or bleachers. Leather-lunged “fans” were appealing wildly to the Fates for a victory. Cotton was the relief pitcher for the Badgers, and, although he was as wild as a hawk in the ninth, he got by with the aid of sharp fielding and settled down in the tenth very nicely. With two of the Billies gone, though, an error by Captain Cross gave a life to the Doncaster left fielder and a pass to the succeeding batsman put him on second. Then the first baseman succeeded where better batters had failed and lined one past third, allowing the left fielder to score and putting the next man on second. A fly to the outfield brought the end.
But Doncaster again held the lead and it was up to Harrisville to get a run across. The bleacherites did all they could to help, and June’s was a conspicuous voice amongst them. Even Sam seemed to sense a desperate crisis, for he roused himself from the lethargy produced by a feast of peanuts and barked wildly. Cross went out, third to first. “Cob” Morgan, the dark-visaged first baseman, reached the initial station safely by reason of a fumble on the part of shortstop. Jones started to the plate but was recalled and LaCroix took his place. LaCroix was a thick-set, hook-nosed Canuck. Opinion in Wayne’s vicinity differed as to the advisability of putting “Nap” in, but it was generally conceded that Steve Milburn generally pulled the trick and that events might vindicate his judgment in this case. And events surely did.
Nap LaCroix leaned against the first offering and hit to short right and there were two on. The Harrisville “rooters” cheered and yelped and, considering their scarcity, made a brave uproar. Possibly it had its effect on Henderson, for he wabbled for the first time in the proceedings and walked O’Neill. The bleacherites arose to their feet and waved hats and coats and newspapers madly. Wayne did his share, June yipped, and Sam, squirming in Wayne’s arms, barked frantically. Another pinch-hitter was sent in, this time in place of Leary.