Mount Placid listened gloomily to the visitors’ wild outpouring of joy, saw them drag the runner to his feet and pull him ecstatically to the bench, saw Hanford, rather pale and wrathful, slap the dust from his clothes, recover his mask, and disspiritedly send the ball back to Mr. Williams; saw, too, Mr. Connell on third trying his best to look as if he didn’t know he had thrown the game away!
“W! Rah! I! Rah! G! Rah, rah, rah! W! Rah! A! Rah! M! Rah, rah, rah! Wigwam! Wigwam!! Wigwa-a-arm!!!” And Dick Barry cavorting about like a thing built of springs, waving his arms and kicking his legs and shouting his voice away! And the score 4 to 4, and everyone on the third base side very, very happy and noisy!
And then, after a minute, when one more run might have given the visitors the victory, when Steve had still another strike to be scored against him, Peterson, made careless by his previous good fortune, took just that extra inch forbidden by safety--and the coacher--and slid back to the bag too late!
That was disappointing, but there was another inning, and if only they could keep Mount Placid from adding to her score; and could themselves put just one other little tally across----
And so Mount Placid went to bat for her half of the eighth looking firmly resolved to do or die, and Mr. Gifford, pulling a pitcher’s glove on, stepped into the box to do his best. Peterson took the councillor’s place in left field, Peterson rather chastened in spirit now. Mr. Williams, first batter, was an easy victim to the infield, going out at first, Steve to Murdock, and Cather followed him, the assist going to Tom Crossbush. That brought the head of the Mount Placid list up, and Mr. Cochran had a fearsome glint in his eye as he faced the substitute pitcher. Mr. Gifford’s offerings were not very baffling and the rival first baseman landed on the second delivery and sent it speeding down the alley between shortstop and third. One base was all he got, however, for Joe Groom, running in like a streak, fielded prettily to second. Then Benson followed with a hit past third and Mount Placid had runners on first and second. But the danger was over a moment later when Smith, lifting a long fly to the outfield, saw it settle cosily into Simpson’s hands.