"Knock the cover off the ball!"
Again the ball came in just where Wheeling wished it. He reached out, and crack! the sphere went sailing high over second base and far out into centerfield.
"A home run!" came the cry. "A home run! The Excelsiors win this game."
"Run, fellows, run! There is nothing to stop you."
And the Excelsior players began to dance around like wild Indians. The two on the bases began to tear around the diamond like mad, with the lad who had hit the ball following.
Paul Shale saw the ball coming. He knew it would pass high over his head and down into deep center he went like the wind after it. He heard the crowd yell, but paid no attention to the rest of the players.
"I must get it! I must get it!" he said to himself, and the words fairly burnt themselves into his brain. He made leap after leap. The ball was coming down—it was still out of reach. He stumbled, but kept on—and then, just as the ball came within eight feet of the earth, he sprang up and clutched it in the fingers of one hand. Hardly had he done this than his feet struck a rock and he went down heavily. Then he rolled over on his back, but held the ball aloft.
He held the ball aloft.