"Two strikes!" declared the umpire, at which Dingley shook his head protestingly.
"My eye! He is a good waiter," yelled Cooper gayly. "He's worked in a restaurant some time. You've got him now, Phil."
Trying to "pull" Dingley, Phil again used a curve that was too wide, and the third ball was called.
The batter gripped his club and stood ready, determination in his manner. The infielders crouched on their toes, and the outfielders were prepared to run in any direction. Springer leaned forward to get the signal, then swung into an elaborate delivery which he had practiced. Another drop was tried, but this time Dingley hit it. Up into the air popped the ball, and Cooper, yelling "I'll take it!" raced over behind second, to smother it surely when it came down.
Something like a sigh of relief escaped Springer's lips when he saw the ball held by the lively little shortstop, and in a measure his confidence was restored..
"They can't hit that kind out of the infield, Spring, old dandy," laughed Cooper. "You've got an elegant collection up your sleeve to-day."
The home crowd cheered, and Barville sent out Pratt, the second batter.
"Here's the next victim," cried Jack Nelson, from his position near second. "He'll be easy, too."
Pratt was clever at sacrificing, but without a runner ahead of him it was up to him to try for a hit, and he fouled the first two balls.
"Now, you've got him sure, Phil," said Cooper. "He's a regular hen-roost robber; he loves fouls. Don't let him get away, for if he does he'll crow."