Rattled by his misplay, Renton hurriedly picked up the ball, which had rolled a little distance away, and hurled it toward first. The ball was high, and although Burkett made a desperate leap it went over his head and rolled toward the right field stands.
By the time Burkett had retrieved it Maley had rounded second and was making for third. Burkett threw to Jackwell. It struck the dirt in front of him, bounded over his head, and before it could be secured Maley had crossed the plate for the run that tied the score!
CHAPTER VIII
HITTING A HOMER
As Maley crossed the plate a tremendous chorus of cheers rose from the Brooklyn rooters while his comrades rushed from their dugout and surrounded him, dancing and shouting in jubilation.
Maley himself looked a little sheepish at the congratulations showered upon him, for after all it was by the sheerest luck that his feeble little pop-up had slipped through the hands of Renton, to be followed by two wild throws that had brought him around the bases.
But after all it was a run, and more than that, the tying run, and it counted just as much in the score as though it had been the fruit of a homer. It put the Brooklyns again in the running just at the time that the Giants seemed to have the game stowed away in their bat bags.
Probably the most disgusted men on the grounds were Renton and Burkett, whose faces were flushed to a fiery red and who carefully avoided looking toward the bench where McRae sat, his eyes flashing with anger.
Joe, however, was as cool as an icicle. Many a pitcher would have lost either his temper or his nerve or both at such a slip-up on the part of his support. But Joe, though naturally chagrined, let not a trace of irritation betray itself in his bearing. He was his old confident self as he sauntered easily to the box.
The Brooklyn coaches hurried down to the side lines and began a line of unceasing chatter designed to rattle the pitcher.