But a little diversion in favor of the Catalpas now took place. Sam Morrison made a long line hit to center field for three bases, and a slight glimmer of hope dawned in the breasts of the sons of Catalpa. The friendly champions of the club, bunched together in the seats, yelled themselves hoarse over this little turn in the game, encouraging their fellow-townsmen in the Diamond Field with all sorts of cheering cries and remarks. Alice Howell, red and white by turns, and sometimes not seeing the field for the unwonted moisture that gathered in her eyes, waved her handkerchief at the boys below, never trusting herself to say a word.
With breathless interest, Neddie Ellis was watched as he ran to the bat and squared himself for a decisive stroke of business. Even the umpire, carried away by the unwonted crisis, forgot everything but the trembling balance of the result of the game. He was brought to his senses by a shouting from the grand stand when he considered a ball was too low to be called a strike, although there were only a few persons who thought to the contrary. Neddie was made a little nervous, naturally enough, by the commotion and the stress of the exigency. He knew that there were some chances of winning now depending on his making a good hit. It was a critical point in the closely contested struggle. He made a desperate lunge at the ball, but Jamie Kennedy was at his post and before the hapless Neddie could realize what had happened, Kennedy had retired him at first base and the game was won for the Calumets.
Then a mighty shout went up from the throats of the assembled multitudes, for, although many had slipped out in time to avoid the press of the departing throngs, those who remained were sufficiently numerous and enthusiastic to create a vociferous uproar. In the midst of this, the two captains met in mid-field and shook hands cordially with a few complimentary words from each, as their respective clubs gathered around. Then, the promiscuous cheering in the seats having subsided, the victors gave a rousing cheer, more or less inspired by their own exultant spirits, for their antagonists; and the Catalpas, nothing abashed by their defeat, returned the cheer with great heartiness.
"Meet us at Catalpa," said Captain Hiram Porter to the captain of the Calumet club. "Meet us at Catalpa, and we will try hard to retrieve the ill fortune of this day."
It had been agreed that the third and concluding game of the championship series should be played at Catalpa, in case the Calumets should win the second game. So, with a few hurried words relating to a friendly meeting of the captains of the two nines, on the morrow, the players dispersed from the field. This was what might have been read on the bulletin boards as they went along their homeward way:—
BASE BALL TO-DAY.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Catalpas 3 0 1 2 0 0 1 0 0 7.
Calumets 3 1 0 0 4 0 0 1 0 9.
Runs earned, Catalpas, 4; Calumets, 2.
Base hits, Catalpas, 7; Calumets, 7.
Errors, Catalpas, 5; Calumets, 7.
Umpire, Mr. Mark B. Redmond.
Time of game, two hours and ten minutes.