Before Ward could prepare himself Shackford swiftly drew back his arm and sent in another ball.
"Two strikes!" shouted the umpire, and cheers and jeers alike could now be heard. Indeed, many more of the spectators arose to depart, for it seemed to be evident that the end had come. Only one more ball might be necessary.
Shackford sent in the ball again, but this time Ward was ready. He hit it squarely, and with all his force. Only realizing that the ball was going, he started swiftly toward first base. It seemed to him that pandemonium had broken loose behind him. Shrieks, calls, shouts, and cheers were all mingled.
As he touched the first base and started toward second he looked at the ball. He had sent it far out over the center-fielder's head, and not yet had he caught up with it. It was a terrific hit, and all of Ward's long pent up feelings seemed to have found vent in the force with which he had struck. On and on sped the ball, and on and on ran Ward.
Before he had gained the third base both of the runners in advance of him had scored. He touched the third base, and putting forth all his speed started toward home. The applause was deafening now. He was dimly conscious of a mass of waving banners and flags off on his right, and that "Hi! yi! yi!" could be heard on every side.
"Go it, Ward! Go it!" shouted Jack intensely as he ran outside the line to encourage his friend; and Ward was "going it" at his very best.
He bent low and rushed forward. He could hardly breathe now, but his speed did not slacken. On and on he ran, until it seemed to him he never could gain the coveted base.
Putting forth all the last remnant of his strength he obeyed Jack's warning, and throwing himself on the ground touched the base just as a last, loud, prolonged yell came from the crowd.
With his hand on the plate he for the first time glanced behind him. The ball had just been thrown in and Shackford had caught it. The game with the Burrs was won, and Ward Hill's long hit had won it.
CHAPTER XVIII