The coach forbore to reproach him just then, as he knew that it would probably do more harm than good. However, he kept a sharp eye on him, and inwardly was very much worried. He knew that Benson was not speedy enough to stand much chance against as strong a team as they were now playing, and though a great admirer of Bert, he did not know whether he had the stamina to go a full game. He resolved to give Winters every chance to recover himself, and prayed that he would be able to do so.
The first man of the home team to go to bat struck out on the hot curves served up to him, but Dick connected with the ball for a clean two-base hit. A great cheer went up at this feat, but it was destined to have little effect. The second man fouled out and the third raised an easy fly to the pitcher’s box, and so Dick’s pretty drive did them no good.
In the fifth inning Winters’ pitching became more and more erratic, and to Reddy’s experienced eye it became evident that he would soon “blow up.” So he strolled over to the substitutes’ bench and sat down beside Bert.
“How does your arm feel to-day, Wilson?” he inquired. “Do you feel as though you could pitch if I happened to need you?”
Bert’s heart gave a great leap, but he managed to subdue his joy as he realized the trainer’s meaning, and answered, “Why, yes, I think I could make out all right. Do you think you will need me?”
“Well, there’s just a chance that I may,” replied Reddy, “and I want you to be ready to jump out and warm up the minute I give you the signal.”
“I’ll be ready, sir, I can promise you that,” replied Bert, earnestly, and the trainer appeared a little more hopeful as he turned away.
“I can at least count on that young chap doing the best that is in him, at any rate,” he thought; “he certainly doesn’t look like a quitter to me.”
In their half of the fifth inning the home team was unable to make any headway against the opposing pitcher’s curves, which seemed to get better and better as the game progressed. Dick felt, in some mysterious way, that his team was losing heart, and his one hope was that the coach would give Bert a chance to pitch. The boys, one after another, struck out or lifted easy flies, and not one man reached first base.
The visitors now came to bat again, and the first ball Winters pitched was slammed out into left field for a two-base hit. The next batter up stepped to the plate with a grin on his face, and one of his teammates called, “Go to it, Bill. Eat ’em alive. We’ve got their goat now.”