The interest on the part of the big crowd present was now intense. The next ball might tell the tale, for if Dick struck out the batter, the game would end. On the other hand if Gordon got a safe hit, he would be followed by another good batsman, and the game might go at least another half inning, and in case Kentfield could not make a winning run, continue on for some time longer.
Dick felt a bit nervous as he got ready to deliver the next ball. It was two and two now.
"I've got to get it over the plate, and yet fool him," thought Dick. "I wonder if I dare risk a little slow twister. If he hits it, we're goners though—that is, we'll have to fight it out the rest of this inning. Well, here goes!"
As he was about to deliver the ball he heard the barking of Grit over in one of the grandstands, where a chum, who was not playing, was keeping the bulldog.
"Good old Grit!" mused Dick. "That's his way of cheering, I guess!"
Swiftly the ball left Dick's fingers, shooting toward the batter. Lem stepped back a trifle, and then lunged forward to meet the horsehide. And he did meet it with his bat, full and true.
With a vicious "ping!" the ball shot back, out over the diamond, shooting upward, and laying a course just between the left and centre fielders. Both players converged to meet it, but the ball passed over their heads, as they had to run back.
"Go on, Lem! Sprint for it!"
"Show 'em how you can run!"