“Did he say just how many belonged to the Fire Department?” asked Fultz carelessly.
“Yes, he said seven out of the twelve players and subs. He told me who they were, but I didn’t pay any attention.”
“Well, I’m on deck,” said Fultz. “Guess I’ll find my bat.”
But Dan, smiling at his thoughts, noticed that the manager had apparently changed his mind. For, instead of going to where the bats were piled, he walked around the bench and across to where a group of Mannig citizens were watching the contest from the grass back of third base. There he stooped and spoke to a youth in a dingy suit of clothes. Presently the youth arose, and he and Fultz wandered away together toward the end of the grand stand. As the Mannig batsman was at that moment making his second abortive strike at the ball, it is doubtful if anyone save Dan noticed them. They conversed together a moment at the corner of the stand, and then the youth lounged away out of sight, and Fultz returned and selected his bat. When he had it he turned quickly and glanced at Dan. Dan was apparently absorbed in the fate of the batter.
That was speedily decided, for he couldn’t resist a slow drop that had every appearance of a straight ball, and turned disgustedly away to toss his bat into the pile. But after that Mannig’s chances appeared to brighten. With only one man out, she managed to get runners on second and third, and for a time it looked as though she was about to pile up some more tallies. The Mannig contingent became wildly enthusiastic, and their excruciating war whoop filled the air. But their hopes were doomed to disappointment, for the two runners were obliged to stay just where they were while the succeeding pair of batsmen struck ignobly out. And now the seventh inning began with the score five to three, in favor of the visitors.
Once more the Laurelville players found Sullivan an easy riddle. The first man up let drive a sizzling grounder between shortstop and third baseman, and, by good running, barely made second ahead of the ball. The following batter worried the pitcher until in the end he was sent to first on four balls. Laurelville was yelling and whooping at a great rate.
“Here’s where we score!” cried the coachers back of first and third. “Any old thing will do, Eddie! A nice little three-bagger, if you can! You can’t miss ’em! He’s easy, he is! On your toes there, Jack! Down with his arm, old man! Hey!”
Then the third batsman cracked out a nice safe hit that was just two feet out of first baseman’s reach, and although right fielder managed to get the ball to the plate in time to send the foremost runner doubling back to third, the bases were full, and there were no outs.