When I let myself out, the ball generally hits the
ground just back of the plate.''
``Speed 'em over!'' said Burns, his sweaty face
grim and determined. ``I'll get in front of 'em.''
The head of the batting list was up for
Bellville, and the whole Bellville contingent on the
side lines rose and yelled and cheered.
Moore was a left handed hitter, who choked his
bat up short, and poked at the ball. He was a
good bunter, and swift on his feet. Wayne had
taken his measure, as he had that of the other
players, earlier in the game; and he knew it was
good pitching to keep the ball in close to Moore's
hands, so that if he did hit it, the chances were
it would not go safe.
Summoning all his strength, Wayne took his
long swing and shot the ball over the inside corner
with terrific speed.
One strike!
Wayne knew it would not do to waste any balls
if he wished to maintain that speed, so he put
the second one in the same place. Moore struck
too late.
Two strikes!
Then Burns signed for the last drop. Wayne
delivered it with trepidation, for it was a hard
curve to handle. Moore fell all over himself
trying to hit it. Little Burns dropped to his knees
to block the vicious curve. It struck the ground,
and, glancing, boomed deep on the breast protector.
How the Salisbury supporters roared their
approval! One man out--the bases full--with Reed,
the slugging captain, at bat!
If Reed had a weakness, Wayne had not
discovered it yet, although Reed had not hit safely.
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