A prolonged “Oh-h-h!” came involuntarily from the crowd, and Bert returned with a sullen air to his station, after fielding the ball.
The Jamestowns now succeeded in getting the striker and another man round the bases. Randolph put out the third, by running a long distance under a foul fly, almost reaching the wagon before he secured it.
The “Readvilles” were retired without making a run. Score, 2 to 0, in favor of Jamestown. The girls clenched their hands in silence, while the Jamestown people on the other side of the grounds cheered lustily.
The game proceeded, and was contested hotly at every point. The visitors seemed possessed with but one ambition, and that was to knock the ball down to centre. Time and again it started in that direction, but dropped short, or into the hands of one of the other fielders.
At last the ninth inning was reached. The score was a tie—eight to eight. “Jamestown” came to the bat, and two men went out in quick succession, one on afoul fly, the other at first base. The third striker got the ball just where he wanted it, and sent it high up in Bert’s direction.
Now, Bert had already begun to repent of the treacherous part he was playing. Here was a chance to redeem himself. He made a desperate run backward for the ball, but tripped and fell just as it was coming to his hands. Again he heard that long note of dismay from his friends. The sound nerved him. Leaping to his feet, he darted after the ball like a deer, and, picking it up lightly, as it rolled, faced about. The runner was making the round of the bases, amid the shouts and jeers of the Jamestown people who had come over to see the game.
Bert gathered himself for a mighty effort, and, drawing back his arm, threw the ball with all his strength. Randolph was waiting for it eagerly, with his foot on the home-plate. It seemed impossible that the ball could get there in time, and the Jamestowners cheered more lustily than ever, as the blue stockings went flying along the base-line toward home; but still more swiftly came the ball, sent with unerring aim from Bert’s far-away arm.
Just a wee fraction of a second before the runner touched the plate the ball settled into Randolph’s hands, which swung round like lightning, and Jamestown was out—score, 8 to 8.
On coming in with his side for their last turn at the bat, Bert found himself all at once a hero.
“Never was such a throw seen on the grounds!” they said; and poor Bert hung his head, and answered not a word.