But he was not the only one who sinned. Sam was “rotten,” to quote Tom Davis, and “issued a number of passes.” One man got to first by virtue of being hit and when the inning was over there were three runs in the Red’s box.
“Six to two against us,” murmured Darrell. “It looks bad, fellows—it looks bad.”
Joe was first up to the bat.
“Do you think you can hit?” asked the captain anxiously.
“Oh, yes. I can hold my little finger away from the bat and I’ll be all right.”
“Then hit for all you’re worth,” begged Darrell. “We need all we can get.”
Joe clenched his teeth grimly and made up his mind he would not be fooled as he had been several times before.
The Red pitcher was smiling in a tantalizing way and Joe felt himself almost hating him for it.
“I’m going to hit you! I’m going to hit you!” he found himself murmuring over and over again in his mind.
And hit Joe did. The first delivery was a ball, but the second Joe knew was just where he wanted it. With all his force he swung at it and as he sped away toward first, with all the power of his legs he saw the horsehide sailing on a clean hit in a long, low drive over the centre fielder’s head.