The Redheaded Outfield
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第44章 FALSE COLORS(4)

Clark, the third man up, was the surest batter on the Bellville team.He looked dangerous.He had made the only hit so far to the credit of his team.Wayne tried to work him on a high, fast ball close in.Clark swung freely and cracked a ripping liner to left.Half the crowd roared, and then groaned, for the beautiful hit went foul by several yards.Wayne wisely decided to risk all on his fast drop.Clark missed the first, fouled the second.

Two strikes!

Then he waited.He cooly let one, two, three of the fast drops go by without attempting to hit them.Burns valiantly got his body in front of them.These balls were all over the plate, but too low to be called strikes.With two strikes, and three balls, and the bases full, Clark had the advantage.

Tight as the place was, Wayne did not flinch.

The game depended practically upon the next ball delivered.Wayne craftily and daringly decided to use another fast drop, for of all his assortment that would be the one least expected by Clark.

But it must be started higher, so that in case Clark made no effort to swing, it would still be a strike.

Gripping the ball with a clinched hand, Wayne swung sharply, and drove it home with the limit of his power.It sped like a bullet, waist high, and just before reaching the plate darted downward, as if it had glanced on an invisible barrier.

Clark was fooled completely and struck futilely.

But the ball caromed from the hard ground, hit Burns with a resounding thud, and bounced away.

Clark broke for first, and Moore dashed for home.

Like a tiger the little catcher pounced upon the ball, and, leaping back into line, blocked the sliding Moore three feet from the plate.

Pandemonium burst loose among the Salisbury adherents.The men bawled, the women screamed, the boys shrieked, and all waved their hats and flags, and jumped up and down, and manifested symptoms of baseball insanity.

In the first of the eighth inning, Mackay sailed up the balls like balloons, and disposed of three batters on the same old weak hits to his clever fielders.In the last of the eighth, Wayne struck out three more Bellville players.

``Burns, you're up,'' said Wayne, who, in his earnestness to win, kept cheering his comrades.

``Do something.Get your base any way you can.

Get in front of one.We must score this inning.''

Faithful, battered Burns cunningly imposed his hip over the plate and received another bruise in the interests of his team.The opposing players furiously stormed at the umpire for giving him his base, but Burns' trick went through.Burnett bunted skilfully, sending Burns to second.Cole hit a fly to center.Then Huling singled between short and third.

It became necessary for the umpire to delay the game while he put the madly leaping boys back off the coaching lines.The shrill, hilarious cheering gradually died out, and the field settled into a forced quiet.

Wayne hurried up to the plate and took his position.He had always been a timely hitter, and he gritted his teeth in his resolve to settle this game.Mackay whirled his long arm, wheeled, took his long stride, and pitched a slow, tantalizing ball that seemed never to get anywhere.But Wayne waited, timed it perfectly, and met it squarely.