The New Yorks gave him that lead in the fifth. Denton and Willis singled, and Denton scored when Cooper, the right fielder, lost Becker’s fly in the sun and it went for a double. Becker was forced at third on Iredell’s bouncer to Girdner, and both Willis and Iredell scored when Berry made a wild throw of a sharp hit by Curry.
This ended the scoring for the inning, but those three runs, in the words of Robson, looked very “juicy.”
The lead, of course, was very gratifying to Jim. It seemed to put him on “easy street.” But at the same time it was dangerous, because it was calculated to give him, perhaps, too much confidence. And over-confidence was a perilous thing to indulge in when the Bostons happened to be one’s opponents.
Jim waked up to this fact in the very next inning, when Walters straightened out one of his incurves with a mighty wallop to the fence on which he easily circled the bases. Two more hits sandwiched in with a pass yielded one more run, and McRae began to look uneasy. A rattling double play got Jim out of what had begun to look like a bad hole, and the rally was choked off then and there.
It had been a bad inning for him, but Jim was a thoroughbred, and he braced.
In the next three innings they only garnered four more hits, and of these only two were “Simon pure.” Loomis got a hit past Denton when the latter was running to cover the base. Then Stock chopped one to the box that took a puzzling bound and went for a single. Girdner lined out a scorcher to center in the eighth and Walters sent one to the same place in the final frame. But this was the sum total of their endeavors and the Giants had no need of playing out their half of the ninth.
It was a very creditable victory for the “kid” pitcher of the Giants. Once more the New Yorks had the upper hand in the desperate fight for the Series. Jim had won his spurs and could count hereafter on taking his regular turn in the box.
The roars of the crowd were like music in Jim’s ears. Still more grateful were the praise and congratulations from his comrades on the team. But, perhaps, he treasured more than all the shy tribute that came that evening from the lips of a remarkably pretty girl.
“You were just splendid to-day, Mr. Barclay,” said Clara, her eyes shining brightly. “Just splendid!”