“Go down with his arm,” he signaled Jeff, and Thatcher, obeying the captain, started for second on the first ball pitched, while Buck Hart, at the bat, stabbed at the ball but purposely missed it. Jeff saw Southers, the second baseman, set himself to catch the throw and he slid. In a cloud of dust he clutched the bag and looked up to see Southers recovering a fumbled ball. He made a mental note as he stood up and brushed himself off that that was the first error of the game.
Now, if ever, it was time for Pennington to score. With a man on second and none out, it was the opportunity of the game, and the Pennington players determined to take advantage of it. A single of the right sort could bring in a run, or at best move Thatcher on to third. Buck Hart spat on his hands, and with one strike on him settled down to the business at hand. And he was equal to the task, for presently he found Wells’ delivery for a hit that somehow got between third and short and enough out of reach to allow Thatcher to get to third, while Buck romped safely to first.
With a man on first and third and none out, scoring looked like a certainty, and the Pennington bleachers went into a frenzy of cheering, while the band blared forth a spirited school song.
Jeff, from third, looked toward the bench, curious to know who would be put up next. It was Dixon’s turn at bat, but Jeff realized that the pitcher could not take his place. Who would be put in to bat for him?
Watching the players’ bench, Jeff saw Coach Rice look the fellows over and motion to Gould. He said something to him, too, and slapped him on the back, and as Jeff saw that his rival for third base honors was going into the game as a pinch hitter he was thrilled with delight, for he realized, as the jubilant Gould did, that going in as a pinch hitter would mean that he would be credited with playing in the Lawrencetown game and as a result be awarded his ’varsity letter. Jeff was as much pleased as if it were himself who was being given the opportunity to make good, and he called down from third base encouragingly:
“Land on it, Gould, for a single. That’s all we need to tie things up.”
Gould grinned at him as he selected his bat and stepped to the plate, and Jeff hoped mightily that the pinch hitter would make good.
He did. Gould was capable, and when put to it could do as well as any fellow on the field. And there was resolution and determination behind the vicious swing that he took at the first pitched ball.
He connected in earnest and the sphere shot toward right field in a long, low arc that started Miller running back as hard as he could. But it was quickly evident that he would never catch that drive, and Jeff and Buck Hart romped home, while Gould tore around the bases as fast as he could go. It was a clean three-bagger, and had Gould been contented to remain on third he might have ultimately scored. But in his enthusiasm he tried to stretch it into a home run and he was caught at the plate. But he was given a hand and a rousing cheer when he stood up and brushed himself off, for the crowd recognized that he had brought in two runs and put Pennington in the lead; indeed, pandemonium reigned for some time, for the Pennington rooters had been hoping for just such a break in the game and they cheered themselves almost voiceless when it finally occurred.
But out of trouble once more and with one down the Lawrencetown pitcher tightened up and the next two batters were played out both on infield hits, and the team retired with the score 2 to 1 in Pennington’s favor at the end of the fifth.