“Ve vos all pehind you, Chip!” squawked Villum Kess, capering around second. “Take your time, old man,” advised Clancy.
“Let this boob hit it,” grinned Billy Mac, as Ironton stepped into the box.
Frank paused. He had seen clearly that Green was a whirlwind, and decided to hold his best ball, the jump, in reserve. If Green was really Diggs, then he had his work cut out for him.
“Get on to that guy on second!” yelled a fan.
Villum Kess had come to rest plumb on his bag, and stood waiting.
“Play off there, you lobster!” shrieked another rooter frantically.
“Blay off yourselluf,” returned Villum hotly. “Shud oop und say less. Make a glam of yourselluf if I vas a lopster yes, no! Yaw! You vait till you show me!”
Frank nodded to Billy, and put over a low, straight ball. Ironton waited.
“Strike—one!”
The Clipper shortstop was a wicked hitter, as Merry knew. Seeing that he stood up close to the plate, Chip put over a sharp inshoot, and again the umpire called a strike, as Ironton swung vainly.
[278]
He refused to bite at two teasers, however, and again Merry used his in. As if sensing the ball, Ironton pulled back and chopped.
Crack!
Merry reached after the hot liner in vain. It went straight toward the position that Kess should have been playing, while Ironton dug down toward first, amid wild whoops from the bleachers. Then Villum did a surprising thing.
Flinging himself out toward the ball, he lost his balance and slid forward, whirling around. He came down in a cloud of dust.
“By glory, he sat on it!” yelled the fans.
Villum reached beneath himself and pulled out the ball, staring at it in mild astonishment.
“Put it over, you boob!” shrieked Clancy.
Kess looked up, saw the runner nearing first, and scrambled to his feet. With astonishing precision, he sent the ball to Clancy, and the umpire motioned Ironton out.
“It was an accident!” cried Craven, on the coaching line. “He’s an idiot!”
“Go avay mit yourselluf!” squawked Villum, brushing the dust from his shirt. “Vait till I vos shown you how you don’d blay, yes, no!”
Murray advanced to the plate, and with evident determination to hit. After trying to connect with three sharp curves, Murray slung away his bat and yielded up his place to Green.
Frank saw the wiry pitcher pull down his cap[279] and dust his hands, and the quiet confidence of the man went far to show that he was no amateur. Grimly resolving to fan him, Chip wound up for the double shoot, and the ball hummed down.
Green did not attempt to strike. Then a swift look of astonishment overspread his lean brown face. Merry had changed from his right to his left hand!
“Great Scott!” gasped Green. “It’s impossible!”
“Go on and knock it over the fence,” chuckled Billy Mac.
Green tried to, but the double shoot fooled him completely. With a smile, Frank delivered a sharp out with his left hand, and Green reached for it in vain.
“We’ve got ’em!” whooped Clancy as he ran in. “One, two, three!”
“Easy money,” cried Billy, and Chip touched his cap to the yelling grand stand as the Fardale cheer ripped out.
Fardale’s hopes received an abrupt shock, however. Smiling a little, but saying nothing, Green put over nine pitched balls, and retired Lowe, O’Day, and Kess!
“He can’t pitch anything but strikes!” gasped Clancy.
“Don’d you see dot sbeed!” muttered Villum. “Dot pall a pullet vos, so hellup me!”
[280]
“We’re up against something pretty hard, fellows,” said Chip, as they went out. “Everybody pull together, now, and we’ll win.”
His confidence had been sorely shaken, however. Smith strode out and landed on Frank’s first ball for a foul that went up over the grand stand. Twice more he fouled, but the double shoot retired him finally.
“They’re all bad actors,” cried Lowe from third. “Let ’em hit it, Chip!”
Olcott, the new Clipper catcher, was a short man, with tremendously wide shoulders. Chip tried him with a low fadeaway, but Olcott chortled with glee and fell on it. The ball rose and began to travel for the right-field fence.
O’Day raced back, then stopped short. The crowd hooted, for the ball seemed certain to go far beyond him. The fans had forgotten the wind, however, and, when the sphere came down it nestled into O’Day’s glove, and stuck there. Johnson fanned, and the Fardales went to bat.
That is, they went to bat technically. Clancy was the first up, and although usually a slugger, he was retired on three pitched balls. Merry took his place, with the bleachers screaming for a hit.
Green studied him a moment, then changed his position abruptly. He used something that he had hitherto held in reserve—a remarkable spit ball. Frank guessed it, but could not hit.
[281]
Again Green used the same thing, and again Merry missed it. He touched the third one for a high foul, however, that cleared the grand stand. With a new ball thrown out to him, Green deliberately put over three balls that were wide of the plate.
“Put it over!” sn............