Mount Morris’ first-batsman struck out amidst the joyful whoops of the Grafton supporters, but the next man hit safely to short left and was advanced by a bunt which Winslow, coming in for on the run, scrambled. A double steal followed, Gordon pegging to Winslow too late. Myatt had trouble finding the plate and the bags were filled again. But Fortune had not yet turned her back on the Scarlet-and-Gray. The Mount Morris left fielder, doing his utmost to bring off a sacrifice fly, only hit a weak, bounding ball to the pitcher’s box and the runner was out at the plate. But Gordon’s throw to first was too late to get the batter. Myatt worked a strike over and followed it with a ball. Then a healthy swing failed and the score was two-and-one. But a second ball followed and then a third, and Grafton saw trouble ahead. The next was a strike, not offered at, and Ben gathered himself together for a final effort. When the ball left his hand it sped straight for the center of the plate with nothing on it but speed. There was a crack of wood against leather and out in left field Hugh Ordway, shading his eyes for an instant, turned and raced back. A swift turn, a change of direction to the right and then a breathless, silent moment in the stand. Down came the ball, Hugh stepped forward a pace and then a mighty shout of joy and relief arose from the flaunters of the scarlet-and-gray pennants. With his back almost at the wall of the red-brick dormitory, Hobo Ordway had pulled down one of the longest flies in the history of the dual contests!
The seventh began with Grafton still one lone tally to the good. Boynton was an easy out, shortstop to first, Star Meyer fanned, Gordon got a lucky hit that glanced from Saylor’s glove and rolled safely past second-baseman. Myatt received a salvo of applause as he made his first appearance at the plate and there were demands for a home-run. But Ben was not the old Ben today. Those on the bench realized that he was playing on his nerve and Mr. Sargent viewed him anxiously. Ben let Saylor put a strike and two balls over before he offered. Then came the hit-and-run signal and he swung at a fairly wide one while Gordon streaked to second. Ben missed entirely, but the catcher’s hurried throw was low and Gordon was safe. Ben spoiled the next one and Saylor made it three balls and Grafton howled and whooped expectantly. But Ben’s attempt to wallop failed, for the ball only glanced from his stick and rolled slowly toward third. Pitcher and third-baseman both scurried for it and Saylor fielded it. It was too late to get Gordon and the pitcher pegged across to first. Ben, running hard, scented the throw and dived feet-foremost to base with the result that he collided with the baseman and that youth dropped the ball. Had Gordon started for home at that moment he could have reached it safely, but he didn’t and a golden opportunity was lost.
Nick Blake let two go by, one a strike and the other a pitch-out. Then, on the next delivery Myatt sprinted to second unchallenged. Nick tried to hit but failed and found himself in the hole. Saylor coaxed him with a drop and then a wide and high one and Nick refused both. It had to be good then and it was, and Nick let go at it and dashed for first, while Gordon tore in from third and Myatt legged it to third. But Nick’s effort was vain, for the Mount Morris third-baseman speared the ball a yard in the air!
The Green-and-White was not yet acknowledging defeat, and proved it by the way she went after the redoubtable Myatt in the last of the seventh. Ben was slow and careful today, lacking his usual certainty and dash, and after the first man at bat had smashed a drive down the first base line for a single the home team batters lost their awe of him and began to make trouble. Ben retired the second man after much trouble by making him fly out to Meyer, and Meyer held the runner at first by a quick return. But the next man found something to his liking and sped it straight over second and the runner on first went on to third. Ben’s trip around the bases had been his undoing and he knew it, and after he had pitched two balls to the succeeding batsman he turned and spoke to Murtha and a consultation followed. Mr. Sargent was already on his feet beside the bench. A nod of his head and Guy Weston tossed the ball to Brooks and walked toward the mound.
Ben came out with hanging head and staggered when he reached the bench, and Davy Richards, a supporting arm around him, led him off to the dressing-room.
Weston sped in his warming-up deliveries and then faced his task. A man on first and one on third, one down and two balls on the batsman was the situation, and Weston didn’t better it any by pitching two balls in succession and adding a third runner to the bases! On the bench, Mr. Sargent watched dismally. Brunswick, his last chance now, was warming up, but it was a question whether Brunswick could do any better than Weston. Mr. Sargent was thinking hard things of Dudley Baker at that moment!
And consequently it was something of a surprise to him when Dud’s voice came to him across his shoulder! “I’m terribly sorry, sir,” Dud was saying breathlessly, “but we got left at that place where we stopped, Logan and I, and we walked most of the way and stole a hand-car, sir, and we just got here.”
Mr. Sargent’s surprise turned to cold disapproval. “Very nice, Baker,” he replied scathingly. “It may comfort you to know that you’ve probably lost the game for us. I had meant you to pitch today, but——”
“Yes, sir, thanks, and I’m all ready to if you’ll let me!”
“All ready to!” Mr. Sargent surveyed the boy’s disheveled attire and flushed, tired face sarcastically. “You look it! Why, you couldn’t find the plate in the condition you are!”