Each unfortunately believed the other and held back, waiting for his comrade to make the catch. As a result, the ball dropped between them and rolled some distance away.
Burton, who had held the bag, started for third. Burkett retrieved the ball and without getting set hurled it to third. It went high over Renton’s head and rolled to the stands. Burton kept right on and crossed the plate for the first run of the game. Gallagher, in the general excitement, reached second.
Pandemonium broke loose among the Chicago rooters.
“We’ve got them going!” was the cry.
“All over but the shouting!”
Evans, the Chicago manager, sent in his best pinch hitter, Miller, and put a fast rookie, Houghton, on second to run in the place of Gallagher, who was of the ice-wagon type.
To give his comrades time to recover somewhat from their demoralization, Jim stooped down to lace his shoe. He was a long time doing this, and then was very deliberate in taking his place on the mound.
He whizzed over a high fast one that Miller struck at and missed. The next he fouled off. The third just missed cutting the corner of the plate, and it went for a ball. On the next, Miller lay down a bunt that rolled slowly along the third base line.
It looked as though it were going to roll foul, and Renton gave it a chance to do so. However, it kept on the inside of the line, and by the time Renton had gathered it up, Miller had easily reached first.
Wallace went to the bat with orders to wait Jim out, trusting to the hope that the latter would by this time be rattled, because the breaks of the game seemed to be going against him. But when two beauties in succession cut the corners of the plate for strikes, while he stood there like a wooden Indian, he changed his mind.