It started almost on a line, rising steadily as it soared toward right field. On and on it went as though it had wings. The Cardinal outfielders started for it and then stopped and threw up their hands in despair. The ball cleared the field, cleared the bleachers, cleared the wall. Where it finally landed no one knew, no one cared.
Joe had dropped the bat and started like a deer for first. But as [he rounded the bag on his way to second], a glance at the ball told him there was no need for hurry. So he jogged around the bases at his leisure following the three comrades who romped joyously to the plate, while in his ears were the thunderous cheers of the spectators like the roaring of the sea.
He had made a homer with the bases full. He had pulled the game out of the fire. At the very last moment he had snatched victory from defeat!
[CHAPTER V]
PLAYING THE GAME
If a visitor from Mars had seen the crowd at the Polo Grounds when Joe knocked out that homer, he would promptly have set down the people of this planet as madmen. The people in the stands and bleachers simply went crazy with delight. Cheer after cheer went up. Hats were thrown into the air and on the diamond by the hundreds. Then the throng swept down on the field in the frantic desire to surround the hero of the game and carry him in triumph on their shoulders.
But Joe had seen them coming and was off at top speed for the clubhouse. The crowd thickened about him as he fled, and for the last hundred feet he had fairly to fight his way through to get away from the embarrassing attentions of his admirers.
Even in the clubhouse his troubles were not over, for his comrades were almost as delirious as the outside throng. They wrung his hand and slapped his back until he was sore.