The noise of the assembly instantly subsided, as every spectator now watched Dan. “This ball will tell the story,” was the word heard in low tones on every side of the field.
Once more Ned gave the signal for Dan’s deceptive slow ball. Dan agreed and became still more deliberate in his movements. Amidst the profound silence that had settled over the field he again turned slowly and gave the signal for his players to move a little farther in. Ignoring the clapping of hands and the renewed antics of the men on the bases he slowly raised his hands far above his head, turned swiftly about, and sent in the decisive ball. To all appearances he had used every muscle in his lithe body to give speed to the little sphere, but once more the ball rose slowly, then again almost seemed to stop as if to tantalize the batter and shot in swiftly toward the player, who had lunged heavily and almost swung himself about in his determination to hit.
Before the umpire could be heard everyone in the great crowd knew the man was out and that Dan had performed the almost impossible feat of striking out three men in succession when the bases were filled. But if appearances were the measure, Dan Richards in his quiet way was the least concerned of all as, ignoring the cheers of the entire assembly, he walked to the bench.
The Tait School nine, however, failed in their turn at the bat to do any better or even as well as their opponents had done. The first two players ignominiously struck out and Dan, in spite of the loud cheers that greeted him when he walked to the plate, sent a slowly rolling grounder toward first base, which the baseman easily secured and touched out the runner on the line.
Indeed, neither side succeeded in scoring until the fifth inning. In the four preceding innings the Tait School boys had made three scattered hits, not one of which placed a man beyond second base. On the Military Academy side White, the heaviest hitter, the second time he came to bat, sent a long liner over Smith’s head in the outfield, but by a great throw the runner was held on third and left there when the next batter struck out and retired the side.
The noisy demonstrations of the crowd largely ceased as the game proceeded. The boys were playing a wonderful game for schoolboys and the opposing pitchers were doing marvelous work. Dan had struck out seven and his opponent five when the fifth inning began.
Walter, the first batter, was struck on the elbow by a pitched ball. For a moment the pain was almost unbearable and the lad twisted and writhed in his suffering, but pluckily refusing to have anyone run for him he proceeded to his base. On the first ball pitched he started swiftly for second base and as he threw himself forward and slid to the bag a cloud of dust arose that for a moment almost blinded him. Instantly hearing the coaches call him to third he arose and dashed for the base not knowing where the ball was or what had occurred. Again sliding as he drew near the third-baseman, who was standing with outstretched hands he gained the place in safety before the ball, which had been thrown over the head of the second-baseman, was returned to third. As Walter was the fleetest runner on his nine, the chances seemed good to the friends of the school that a run would be secured, as only one was out.
When Streator sent a ball between short-stop and third base Walter dashed home with his run, while Streator started swiftly to second, but was thrown out by the catcher. The next batter was retired on a short infield fly, but the school nine had secured one run and was leading.
Another run was secured in the following inning by a hit which was followed by a long drive into right field by Ned, but he himself was left on third. At the beginning of the eighth inning the score stood two to nothing and the Tait School nine were beginning to be looked upon as the winners of the game.