At first he had hoped against hope that Joe had only been delayed, and would show up at the ball field after all, but as inning followed inning this hope faded out. But Jim was determined to win that game, for he considered that he stood in Joe’s place and that he owed it to his absent friend to chalk up a victory, as he was sure Joe would have done had he been there.
Moreover, the thrill and tingle of the game were in his blood, his brain, his pitching arm. No matter what emergency of the game might arise, he had supreme confidence that he would be equal to it.
In the first half of the fifth inning O’Connor, the captain of the Pittsburgh team, drove a vicious twisting grounder directly at Jim, a ball that fairly smoked as it traveled. But Jim picked it off the ground with a movement so swift that the eye could hardly follow it and tossed the runner out at first with a big margin of safety. When Burkett, the Giants’ first baseman, was forced far off from his position by a high fly between first and second base, Jim covered first base on the chance that Burkett might drop the ball. It was a difficult ball to handle, and while the first baseman managed to knock it down with his glove, he was unable to hold on to it. He made a snappy recovery, however, and tossed to Jim, putting the runner out. Had the Giant pitcher not been right where he was, the runner would have been safe.
But the big test came in the eighth inning. Up to this time, so perfect had been Jim’s pitching, that neither McCarney nor Hupft had had anything to do. Jim knew that if any break came in the Giant defense, it would in all probability be because of some error, intentional or otherwise, on the part of one of the two men.
This break came in the first half of the eighth inning. Ralston, of the Pittsburghs, swung wildly at a fast, straight ball, after two strikes had been called on him, and more by luck than good management connected squarely with it. The ball whistled straight over Jim’s head and almost into the hands of Hupft, who was playing center-field. But Hupft, instead of waiting for the ball, which was all he had to do, ran in on it instead, and the ball passed over his head. At the last second he made an ineffectual leap for it, but to no avail. The ball bounded along the grass until it was finally retrieved by Curry. But by this time the runner had reached third base and would probably have made the home sack had not Curry made a wonderful long throw to Jim, which made the runner think better of the attempt.
Still the Pittsburghs had not scored, but they had a man on third base, with only one out. Baskerville was the next man at bat, and he made a sacrifice bunt in the direction of third base. It was McCarney’s ball, and he picked it up in snappy style, and threw to Mylert to keep the runner at third from reaching home. It was an easy play, but McCarney threw wild, so wild that Mylert, in spite of a back-breaking reach for it, was unable to connect. Throwing aside his mask he dashed after the ball, recovered it, and seeing that it was too late to nail Ralston at home, he made a superb toss to Larry Barrett, who nailed Baskerville at second. Jim struck out the next batter with three pitched balls, which shot over the plate so fast that the batter seemed dazed when he walked back to the dugout.
But the Pittsburghs had scored, and that lone run looked pretty big at this stage of the game. The Giants had only two chances left to overcome it, and Miles seemed to be pitching better at this time than when he started.
Larry was the first Giant batter to face the Pittsburgh pitcher, and the grim look on his usually jovial face showed that he appreciated the gravity of the situation.
“Knock the cover off that pill, Barrett, and I’ll buy you a new one covered with ten dollar bills,” said McRae, as Larry started for the plate.
“Shure, an’ I’ll do ut, thin,” promised Larry, with a flash of his usual happy grin. “This’ll be an expensive wallop for you, Mac.”