“Take a lead there on second, old man! Come on, come on! Whoa! That’s enough! He won’t throw down! I’ll watch the baseman! Take a lead! Whoa! Whoa! Up again! Get away, get away, get away! Whoa!”
“On your toes! We’ve got him going now! He don’t dare throw it! Look out for the double! Move along! Take more than that! That’s better! Stay right there! Look out! Yah! He wouldn’t throw! He’s just bluffing! He’s up in the air! Look at that! Look at that! Oh, rotten! He can’t put ’em over!”
Well, Reid did let down for a space; most pitchers do now and then; and a base-hit over shortstop’s head looked for a moment like a tally. But there was some misunderstanding between runner and coach at third, and the former, after starting for home, doubled back on his tracks and contented himself with one base. But the bags were filled and only one man was out. Porter cheered and howled and whooped things up nobly considering the scarcity of her rooters, and Yardley gave a long, confident cheer to steady her players. Durfee’s sharp voice rang over the diamond:
“Come on now, fellows, and finish this! One down; play for the plate!”
But Reid was still unsteady and, amid the jeers of the enemy, sent in four bad ones one after another, and the batter walked to first, forcing in the first run of the game. Porter’s adherents voiced their delight, while the Yardley section of the grand stand was very quiet. Durfee appeared cheerfully undismayed.
“That’s all right, fellows!” he called. “That’s the only way they’ll score. We gave them that. Now then, let’s get the other two!”
And get them they did.
The next man tried to bunt, was fooled by an in-shoot, and sent the ball trickling toward third. Reid scooped it up, held the runner at third and then threw to first. After that Reid settled down and struck out the last man.
Yardley went to bat, but the best it could do with the delivery of the redoubtable Holmes was to pop up an infield fly and score two strike-outs. Durfee went out to his position growling exasperatedly. There was no more scoring until the sixth inning. Then a Porter man, a tail-ender on the batting list, managed somehow to connect with a fast ball and send it far out into the field for three bases. From third, after two of his mates had died ingloriously at the plate, he reached home on a hit to first that Black allowed to slip between his feet. Although Reid raced over and covered the bag, the substitute baseman gave a remarkable exhibition of juggling with the ball; and by the time he had finally got it into his hands and tossed it to the pitcher the Porter batsman was gripping a corner of the first sack with his fingers, having slid a good ten feet. That was all, however, for the next man was out, third to first.