And so they did. Spentz himself led off with a crashing three-bagger to right. Fred brought him home with a sizzling single and stole second on the next ball pitched. Larry tightened up then, and although a clever sacrifice bunt put Fred on third, he was left there, as the next two batters went out on strikes.
Belden’s half had been scoreless, so that the end of the fifth inning found Rockledge in the lead by one to none. And in such a close game as this promised to be, that one run looked as big as a mountain.
But by the time Belden’s sixth inning was over, the Rockledge rooters were in a panic.
The trouble began when Frank Durrock, old reliable Frank, muffed an easy fly that ordinarily he would have “eaten up.” Not only did he drop the ball, but he let it get so far away from him that the batter took a chance of making second. Frank, in his haste to catch him, threw the ball over Mouser’s head into left field, and before it could be recovered, the runner had made the circuit of the bases.
The error seemed to demoralize the whole team. Sparrow booted a grounder, and by the time he had got through fumbling, it was too late to throw to first. Spentz, in right, dropped a high fly and then threw wildly to head off the runner, who was legging it for third. The ball went ten feet over Sparrow’s head and both boys scored, making the count three to one in favor of the visitors. Rockledge had a bad case of “rattles.”
Bobby walked down to first as though he wanted to talk to Frank, but really to give his mates time to recover.
“Play ball!” shouted the Belden rooters.
Bobby took his time in returning, and even when he was back in the box found a shoe lace that needed tying. Not until he was fully ready did he straighten up.
He put on all speed now and disposed of the next batters in order, two on high fouls and one on strikes. He did not want to let any balls go far out, in the present nervous conditions of his mates.
As for them, they were full of rage and self-reproach.