“Side’s out,” interrupted Wayne. “This is the last of the eighth, isn’t it?”
“Yes, let’s get the fellows to cheering.” Don got up and encouraged the stand to renewed efforts, and the Shrewsburg captain went to bat.
“Twelve to seven,” muttered Dave. “I guess we don’t want this game.”
“Nine’s awful rocky this year,” said Don. “But I’ll bet Kirk will teach ’em something before the first St. Eustace game.”
“Good work, Gray!” yelled Wayne, as the Hillton first baseman captured a liner hot off the end of the Shrewsburg captain’s stick.
“Is that Carl Gray?” asked Dave.
“Yes; I guess he’ll get on to the team. He’s made two of the seven runs so far.”
Once more the Shrewsburg batters failed to make a safe hit, and Forest got a good hearty cheer all to himself as he threw down the ball and went to the bench. It was the first of the ninth now and the home team’s last chance to tie the score or win, either a difficult task. But the cheering became continuous, and the first man at bat, obeying instructions, waited patiently for his base and got it on four balls. Then a batting streak came to the Hillton players, and the next fellow at the plate struck the first ball delivered safely just inside of the third baseman. The next batter also found the ball and knocked it hotly to shortstop, who fumbled it; and the bases were full. But the Shrewsburg pitcher settled down to work and the following Hillton man went out on strikes. And then happened a most unfortunate incident for Shrewsburg. The coachers were busy back of first and third bases, and the Shrewsburg pitcher allowed the noise to worry him a little, just enough to turn an inshoot into a catastrophe. The ball struck the batsman on the hip, and he limped to first, the men on bases moved up, and Hillton scored her eighth run, amid quickly suppressed applause from the seats. The pitcher lost his nerve then and delivered a straight ball, shoulder high, which lit on the center of the bat and went sailing just over his head, bringing another runner in and reaching first too late to put the batsman out. The bases were still full, with but one out, and the grand stand was wild with excitement. The next fellow at the plate, perhaps determining to profit by the pitcher’s collapse, allowed the first two balls to go by unnoticed. Both were strikes. He looked worried for an instant as he tapped the plate with his stick and again faced the pitcher. The third delivery was a ball, and the batsman smiled.
“Hit it, Jim!” shrieked a friend in the audience, but Jim merely broadened his smile into a grin, and the umpire called “Two balls!” Again he remained motionless. “Three balls!” Fellows on the seats began to breathe hard and lean restively forward. The Shrewsburg pitcher glanced around the bases, wiped the stained leather sphere pensively on his gray trousers, shot his hands upward, and sent a straight ball waist-high over the plate. The batsman tossed aside his stick and took a step toward first base.