When Walter joined Dan, as the Rodman nine came in from the field, his enthusiasm became still more marked. “Dan,” he said, “can’t these fellows bat any? Is that the reason for the exhibition they’re making of themselves or is it because you are pitching such a game?”
Dan smiled in his demure way, but did not directly reply to the question of his friend. Whatever may have been the trouble with the opposing nine the Rodman players at least found little difficulty in solving the curves of the pitcher that faced them. As the game progressed the score of the Rodman team steadily increased, while in every inning at least two of the Benson players struck out and the sole hit they had made was a two-base hit in the seventh inning. The prowess of the batter, however, had been without avail, for he had been left on second base, the two batters that followed him having both been struck out. When the ninth inning came the score stood fifteen to nothing in favor of Rodman.
“Don’t lose your nerve now,” Walter said to Dan as they resumed their places in the field for the final inning.
Dan laughed good-naturedly and by way of reply threw the ball swiftly to his friend at short, who in turn threw it to first.
And yet Walter was suspicious of Dan, or at least fearful. What a record he had made, with only one hit and thirteen strike-outs in the eight innings. There was slight danger that the game would be lost, but if Dan should “go to pieces” now the marvelous record might be spoiled. Dan had not had much experience in pitching and it would not be unnatural if, under the strain, he should fail to maintain the steady success that thus far had so wonderfully marked his work in the game. The Benson supporters, as well as the Benson nine, had ceased most of their noisy protests, the failure of their batters to do anything with Dan’s pitching being too manifest to be explained or even defended. As for Walter’s part in the game, thus far he had not covered himself with glory; he had made two errors and not a hit had been placed to his credit. It is true he had caught two high twisting flies and had received vociferous applause from Silas and his companions for his successful attempts, but in the light of his condescending manner at the beginning of the game and the freedom with which he had lavishly given his instructions he felt that he stood before the assembled spectators in no very favorable light. Dan not only had pitched a wonderful game, but had not failed once in hitting the ball when he came to bat. Once he had sent the ball far over the head of the left-fielder—a hit which had brought him safely to third base, and also won tumultuous applause from Silas, who was the unrecognized leader of the cheering of the Rodman supporters.
And now the final test for Dan had come. Would he be able to keep up his good work? Walter was nervous as Dan drew back to send in the first ball.
Crack! The batter hit the ball with a force that sent it skipping between short-stop and third base, and the runner was safe at first, with the second safe hit the Benson players had secured. The following batter was given his base on balls, and the runner at first slowly made his way to second. Two on bases and none out! Had Dan’s hand lost its cunning? “Steady, Dan,” called Walter, striving to speak encouragingly. The young pitcher, however, did not even glance in the direction of his short-stop. With increased deliberation he drew back his arm and sent in a slow in-curve.
Crack! Dan’s heart sank an instant at the sound, and then he was aware that the ball was coming swiftly toward him. He put up his hands almost instinctively and, scarcely realizing what he was doing, caught the ball. Instantly swinging about he threw the ball to second and the player was out. “First! First! Throw it to first!” shouted Dan almost beside himself in his excitement. “Throw it! Throw it!” he yelled frantically, going through the motion of throwing the ball himself in his eagerness.
The second-baseman, at the sharp call, wheeled and sent the ball with all his might to the first-baseman, who had advanced several feet from the base and was standing with outstretched hands awaiting the coming of the sphere. The Benson runner who, at the sound of the bat when it struck the ball, had heedlessly started at full speed for second, now was frantically endeavoring to regain first base. As the baseman caught the ball the runner dove head-foremost, and the two came down in a heap about six feet from the coveted bag.
Dan was dimly aware of a mighty shout that went up from the excited spectators, but he instantly ran to the place where the two players were lying. The Rodman player had been struck in the pit of the stomach by the head of the Benson player and was gasping for breath, his face being colorless.