"Well, well," cried Chub merrily. "Only one more, Kirb. They can't touch you, old man!"
But that wasn't quite so, for Mullins, the head of the rival batting list, touched him for two bases. O'Meara came up plainly resolved to do as well if not better, but only brought the first half to a close by popping up a high foul which Thurlow had no trouble with.
As the teams changed places the cheering broke out simultaneously from both sides of the diamond, and flags waved tumultuously.
"Who's at bat?" asked Chub as he trotted to the bench.
"Carpenter," said the scorer. "No, I mean Porter."
"All right, Roy," said Chub.
"Take it easy," counselled Mr. Cobb. "All you want is to reach first. We'll get you on from there."
"What's he like?" asked Roy of Chub as he stooped to select his bat.
"Oh, kind of hard. Look out for slow balls; he's full of 'em and works 'em on you when you're least expecting 'em. You can hit him."
"Hope so," answered Roy as he selected his stick and walked to the plate. As he faced the Hammond pitcher, who grinned at him in probable recollection of the camp adventure, the Ferry Hill supporters started a cheer.