Crack! It soared. Right field ran backward after the ball.
Now the Gardiner fans were up and yelling like Comanches.
"Leg it, Prendergast!"
The runner touched first bag, then darted on for second. Right field was still after the ball.
"Whoop! He's pulverized the second bag!"
"Just look at third, old man, and come steaming home over the plate!"
That runner had been well trained. He was close upon third base and going with unabated speed.
He kicked the bag—-then a warning cry told him that right field had the ball.
A swift look over his shoulder, and Prendergast fell back upon third just before the ball dropped into the third baseman's hands.
"Safe on third!" came the umpire's announcement. The ball arched over to Dick Prescott. Purcell signaled him to let the ball come in over the plate.
Now the air was all a-tingle. The visitors had a run in sight. Dick felt the thrill, but steeled himself against any impulsiveness or loss of nerve. He signaled the drive, then let go. Three strikes and out, the ball all the while so closely under control that Prendergast fidgeted but did not dare steal far from third.