Coolidge swung at an easy one, popped up three fouls in succession back of the plate—none of which Dolph could get because of the interference of the crowd—and then, with two strikes against him, calmly and deliberately waited and drew a pass! Morris looked dejected as Gus Turnbull faced him. Coolidge was taking a big lead at first and Dolph signaled Morris to catch him. Morris swung around quickly and heaved the ball. But his arm was no longer dependable and the throw went wild, and before Ted could get it both runners had moved up.
Dolph waved the infield players in. “Play for the plate now, fellows,” he called.
Turnbull hit a slow grounder toward shortstop and Smythe, smothering it dexterously, held Wicks at third for a moment and then threw to first. He had waited an instant too long, however, and Mr. Shay rendered a close decision in favor of Turnbull. The bases were full and no one out.
“Home run! Home run! Home run!” chanted the Towners in a wild chorus as Joe Williams walked to the plate. The Boarders, defeat staring them in the face, were a silent lot.
Morris’s delivery was getting weaker and more uncertain every minute. One ball.... Two balls.... Foul strike.... Three balls.... Morris looked wearily to Dolph for the signal, but that youth had turned his back to the plate. There was a stir in the crowd and then Dolph, snatching off his mask, stepped in front of the batsman and called to Mr. Shay:
“I want time, Mr. Umpire.”
“What for?” asked Mr. Shay impatiently.
“To change pitchers, sir!”