He staggered through the fifth inning without being scored on, but it was ticklish work. Little Falls hit him hard. With the bases full and two out, Marty Smith sprang sideways, made a blind stab, scooped the ball and touched the bag for the third out.
Cries of chagrin came from the Little Falls bench. "Oh, you lucky dubs," called one of the coachers. "That was horseshoes."
Don smiled mechanically. It was his turn to go to bat; and after he was thrown out he came to the bench and fought stubbornly to keep his thoughts on the game and away from Tim.
Grimly he stuck to his task. When it came time to start the seventh inning, he was almost master of himself. He found his drop ball working again.
"Yah!" cried Ted. "Here's where we get in the game again."
Little Falls, following that turbulent sixth inning, expected to go right on with her hitting. Instead, her batters found themselves once more helpless. Three players stepped to the plate and were thrown out in order.
Don's spirits had risen. He walked toward the bench with a springy stride. The spectators in back of third base began to cheer. He glanced at them with a smile—and then his face sobered.
Bobbie Brown was pushing his bicycle hurriedly along in the rear of the watchers. His attitude said plainly that he had come with a message.
Don walked past the bench and waited. Bobbie came directly to him.
"Tim just started," he said. "He had to do chores for his mother and couldn't get away earlier."