Still, Lesterville did show some playing that the visitors opened their eyes at. Such base-running Gordon’s team had never witnessed. One red-headed youth named Myers never failed to steal second yards ahead of the ball and on one occasion stole all the way around the bases, reaching home on Tom’s wind-up and subsequent hurried and wild pitch. The Lesterville fellows were born ball players and had graduated from the back lots outside the factories. They knew every trick of the game and used them all.
When Clearfield went to bat in the eighth it was Jack’s turn with the stick and Jack connected with a straight one and slammed it far out into left field, where it banged against the fence and rolled away from the fielder while Jack reached second with time to spare. Tim Turner fanned, Pete Robey worked a pass and Lanny hit into what should have been an easy double. But the Lesterville second baseman fumbled the ball and the bases were full. Unfortunately, with one out, it was Fudge’s turn at bat and Tom Haley followed Fudge. It looked to the visitors on the bench very much like another shut-out. But Fudge, perhaps still smarting under the gibes that had been thrown at him all the afternoon, surprised himself and everyone else by hitting cleanly between first and second. Two runs came in, Lanny reached third and Fudge stood panting on first. Tom Haley went out on strikes and Will Scott came to bat. Fudge stole without challenge. Will fouled off three and had two balls to his credit. Then something that looked good came his way and he swung at it mightily. The ball streaked far out into center field and the bases emptied. Will got to second safely, heard the frantic cries of the coachers and sprinted for third. Then in came the ball to shortstop, and that youth turned quickly and pegged to third. The sphere went fully four feet above third baseman’s head and Will legged it home while his team-mates on the bench shouted and cavorted and Dick, being unable to jump around, beat the ground with a crutch!
Nine to seven looked a heap better than nine to one, and there was still but one man out. Clearfield had ecstatic visions of a victory. But the Lesterville pitcher settled down and disposed of Gordon with five pitched balls and made Way pop up an easy fly to right fielder, and the eighth inning was over for the visitors.
Lesterville came back in her half with vigor and poor Tom was kept dodging liners that soon filled the bases. But the home team had a streak of bad luck in that inning. The runner from third was struck by a streaking liner that was meant for left field, and, fortunately for the opponents, the ball, after colliding sharply with the base-runner’s leg, rolled toward the pitcher’s box and Tom scooped it up and got it to first ahead of the batsman, who, counting on a two-base hit, had made a slow start. Lesterville resented her ill-fortune and, with two gone, the next batsman sent a long fly into left field that barely escaped going over the fence and had Way chasing around like a chicken with its head off while two tallies were added to Lesterville’s nine. A moment later Tom secured his fifth strike-out of the contest and the teams changed sides.
There was still a chance to win, declared Dick, and Jack was instructed to lay down a bunt along third base line. Jack followed instructions deftly and to the letter. The ball trickled a scant ten feet and, although third baseman came in for it and both catcher and pitcher did their best, Jack was easily safe. Young Turner, instructed to sacrifice Jack to second, did his best but struck out miserably for the fourth time. Pete got the signal for a hit-and-run play and swung at the third ball. He missed it, but the Lesterville catcher, who so far had been pegging the ball to second with deadly aim, threw low and before the shortstop had secured the ball Jack was sprawled in the dust with one foot on the bag.
Pete, with two strikes against him, was wary. Twice he spoiled good ones by fouling and then he was caught napping and retired to the bench with trailing bat. With two down the game looked to be over. But Lanny evidently thought otherwise, for he hit the first delivery squarely on the nose and Jack leaped away for third. The ball sped high toward center and although second baseman made a gallant attempt to get it, it went over his head. Jack turned third and streaked for the plate. The center fielder, however, had come in fast and now the ball was flying to the catcher. Lanny sped to second on the throw-in. Ten feet away from the home plate Jack hurled himself feet-foremost through a cloud of dust, rolled over the base and out of the way just as the ball settled into the catcher’s mitt. The umpire spread his hands wide to signify that the runner was safe, but the catcher turned fiercely on him.
“He never touched it!” he bawled. “Look at where he went!” He indicated a mark far back of the plate.
“Who didn’t touch it?” demanded Jack, scandalized and indignant. “I rolled over it!”
Players ran up excitedly. The umpire hesitated, glanced from the belligerent catcher to the astounded Jack, shook his head and said: “He’s out!”
“What!” shrieked Jack.