“Stretch” was the word that ran through the stands as the Chicagos came in for their half of the “lucky seventh,” and the crowd rose as one man and stretched while cries of encouragement went up for their favorites.
The charm failed this time, however, for though they gathered one hit off Jim, it counted for nothing, as the next three went out in succession. Jim was certainly pitching airtight ball.
But in the latter half of the eighth, after the Giants had failed to add to their score, there came one of the sudden changes that illustrated once more the uncertainty of the national game.
The head of the Cubs’ batting order was up, and their supporters were frantically urging them to do something.
Burton did his best, and sent up a high fly to Curry at right. It looked as though it were made to order for the latter, who did not have to budge from his tracks. The ball came down directly in his hands—and he dropped it!
A mighty roar went up from the crowd, who had looked upon it as an easy out, which it should have been, and Burton, who had slowed up a little, put on speed, rounded first and started for second.
Curry, rattled by his error, fumbled at the ball, and when he did recover it lined it in the direction of second. But it went wide of Barrett, and though Jim, who was backing him up, caught and returned it, Burton was already on the bag.
Gallagher, the next man up, popped a Texas leaguer that Burkett and Barrett ran out for.
“I’ve got it,” cried Barrett.
“It’s mine,” shouted the burly first baseman.