The new pitcher had done the unexpected. Far out in the field Farrar and Cotner were chasing back after the rolling ball. Crowell had landed squarely on Haley's first pitch and driven it whizzing past the surprised Captain Jones for three bases! Tom Haley looked about as astounded as he ever allowed himself to look as he walked to the box after backing up Lanny. With none out and a runner on third, victory looked less certain for the Purple. Springdale's "rooters" yelled wildly and triumphantly and Springdale's coachers leaped about like insane acrobats and volleyed all sorts of advice to the lone runner, most of it intended for the pitcher's ears.
"It's a cinch, Johnny! You can walk home in a minute! He's up in the air like a kite! There's nothing to it, old man, there's nothing to it! Here's where we roll 'em up! Watch us score! Hi! Hi! Look at that for a rotten pitch! His arm's broken in two places! Just tap it, Hughie, just tap it! He's all gone now, old man! He hasn't a thing but his glove! Come on now! Let's have it! Right down the alley, Hughie! Pick your place and let her go!"
But Hughie struck out, in spite of all the advice and encouragement supplied him, also the next
man up, and Clearfield began to breathe a bit easier.
286
