As if by one impulse, every soul in the grandstand and bleachers rose to his or her feet, and a perfect pandemonium of yells broke forth. The fielders sprinted madly after the soaring ball, but they might have saved themselves the trouble. It cleared the fence by a good ten feet, and Bert cantered leisurely around the bases, and came across the home plate with the winning run.
Then a yelling, cheering mob swept down on the field, and enveloped the players. In a moment Bert and some of the others were hoisted up on broad shoulders, and carried around the field by a crowd of temporary maniacs. It was some time before Bert could get away from his enthusiastic admirers, and join the rest of his teammates.
As he entered the dressing rooms, Reddy grasped his hand, and said, “Wilson, you have done some great work to-day, and I want to congratulate you. From now on you are one of the regular team pitchers.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Bert, “but I don’t deserve any special credit. We all did the best we could, and that was all anybody could do.”
So ended the first important game of the season, and Bert’s position in the college was established beyond all question. Winters’ friends made a few half-hearted efforts to detract from his popularity, but were met with such a cold reception that they soon gave up the attempt, and Bert was the undisputed star pitcher of the university team.
[CHAPTER VI]
The Fire
“Gee whiz! I’m glad I don’t have to do this every day,” said Tom, as he stood, ruefully regarding his trunk, whose lid refused to close by several inches.