But the trouble was by no means over, for an inshoot landed against the ribs of the next batsman and he ambled to first, solicitously rubbing his side and grinning at Tom Haley.
"Sorry," called Tom.
"I'll bet you are!" was the response.
Springdale's center-fielder, second man on her batting list, waited until the runner on first had taken second unchallenged and then lifted a fly to Breen. The latter got it without altering his position and pegged to the plate, but Crowell beat out the throw by a yard and the score was 4 to 3. On the throw-in the batsman went to second and with two out and two on bases the infield spread out again. There was some delay while Springdale selected a pinch-hitter, and then, when he had rubbed his hands in the dirt, rubbed the dirt off on his trousers, gripped his bat and fixed his feet firmly to earth, all with the grim, determined air of an eleventh-hour hero, Lanny stepped to one side of the plate and Tom Haley tossed him four wide ones!
It was the Blue's turn to howl derisively and the Blue did it. And the Purple shouted derisively back. So much, you see, depends on the point of view! The bases were filled now and a hit would
not only tie the score but add a second tally to
287
