“Keep a-going! Keep a-going!”
These and other frantic appeals and bits of advice were hurled at Joe as he dashed madly on. He had a glimpse of the centre fielder racing madly after the ball, and then he felt for the first time that he really had a chance to make a home run. Still he knew that the ball travels fast when once thrown, and it might be relayed in, for he saw the second baseman running back to assist the centre fielder.
“But I’m going to beat it!” panted Joe to himself.
The grandstand and bleachers were now a mass of yelling excited spectators. There was a good attendance at the game, many women and girls being present, and Joe could hear their shrill voices mingling with the hoarser shouts of the men and boys.
“Keep on! Keep on!” he heard yelled encouragingly at him.
“That’s the stuff, old man!” shouted Darrell, who was coaching at the third base line.
“Shall I go in?” cried Joe as he turned the last bag.
Darrell took a swift glance toward the field. He saw what Joe could not. The centre fielder instead of relaying in the ball by the second baseman (for the throw was too far for him), had attempted to get it to third alone. Darrell knew it would fall short.
“Yes! Yes!” he howled. “Go on in, Joe! Go on in!”
And Joe went.