“Play ball!” commanded Mr. Shay. “One and three, Phillips.”
Back of first base Mort Prince was leaping and waving his arms in his rôle of coacher, while across the field at third Dick Furst was doing all he could to worry Sam. Tyler Wicks was on third, Coolidge on second and Gus Turnbull on first. Sam looked over the field, smiled pleasantly at Turnbull, who returned the smile in a rather sickly way, and then gave his attention to Joe Williams at bat. Dolph crouched and gave the signal.
“Come on now, fellows!” he called as he got into position for the catch. “Out they go, one, two, three!”
Probably none of his team heard the remark, for Towners and Boarders were once more engaged in their vocal war. But Williams heard and his confidence, already disturbed by Sam’s appearance on the mound, suffered a further relapse. Sam settled his toes in the soil, twirled his arms and shot the ball away. Williams let it go by, as he should have with three balls to his credit, and yelled a protest when the umpire called it a strike. The Boarders yelled gleefully. Williams gripped his bat tighter and began to swing it nervously over the plate while he awaited the next delivery. This, he argued, was bound to be a good one, for if not it would force in a run. Dolph gave the signal, but Sam shook his head. Dolph gave a new signal and Sam nodded. Sam knew pretty well what Joe Williams would do in a crisis of this sort. He knew that Joe would expect a straight ball and would try for it. And as Joe was a fairly good hitter it was more than likely that he would connect with it. So Sam sent him a ball that looked very, very good until it was almost at the plate. Then, as Williams swung at it, it settled into a drop and the bat went harmlessly over it.
“Strike! He’s out!” called Mr. Shay.
Howls of delight from the Boarders and of disappointment from the enemy; peevish remarks from Williams as he dragged his bat away to the bench; redoubled noise and confusion from the coachers.
“One gone!” called Ted at first.
Peters, the Towners’ third baseman, was the next batter, and Peters was an open book to Sam. Sam put the first one over, and Peters, just as Sam had expected, let it go by without an offer. Then Sam tried a high one and Peters scoffed at it. Sam followed this with a slow ball that cut the corner of the plate. Mr. Shay called it a ball and Sam turned and regarded him sorrowfully.
“That’s two!” yelled Prince. “Pick out a good one, old man, and just meet it! Make him pitch to you!”