“Dan,” cried Gerald.
“Vinton!” cried Harry.
For the next few minutes they excitedly discussed this new development in all its phases. Mr. Pennimore was informed and expressed the proper degree of pleasure and excitement. But he made a terrible mistake the next moment when he inquired whether anyone had made a run yet. Gerald sat on him properly, informing him that the game hadn’t begun. Then Broadwood came onto the field and the cheers drowned conversation for a full minute. Yardley retired to the bench and Gerald and Harry watched the rival team’s practice with critical eyes. But they were forced to acknowledge that “Broadwood certainly could field,” and that if the Green played that way in the game, Yardley would have hard work winning. At last, at half-past two, the umpire called the captains to him, Millener of Yardley and Gale of Broadwood, and there was a minute’s conference at the plate. Then Gale turned to the bench and raised his hand.
“On the run, fellows!” he called.
Broadwood took the field and Gerald and Harry examined the Blue’s pitcher with interest as he began throwing into the catcher’s mitt to limber up. He was as tall as Colton, but slenderer, had dark hair and a rather surly expression about his mouth except when he smiled. His movements, save when actually pitching, were deliberate to a degree.
“He doesn’t look much,” confided Gerald.
“But you wait and see,” muttered Harry. “He’s all right. Here comes Durfee to bat. I say! They’ve gone and changed the batting order, haven’t they?”
“Probably because Danforth’s out,” suggested Gerald wisely. “Seems to me it’s a good scheme to have Durfee bat first, because if he does get to first he’s pretty sure to steal safely.”
Little Durfee, the Yardley shortstop, spread his legs, gripped his bat and faced the pitcher.
“Play ball!” said the umpire.