``Do something. Get your base any way you can.
Get in front of one. We must score this inning.''
Faithful, battered Burns cunningly imposed his
hip over the plate and received another bruise in
the interests of his team. The opposing players
furiously stormed at the umpire for giving him
his base, but Burns' trick went through. Burnett
bunted skilfully, sending Burns to second. Cole
hit a fly to center. Then Huling singled between
short and third.
It became necessary for the umpire to delay the
game while he put the madly leaping boys back
off the coaching lines. The shrill, hilarious cheering
gradually died out, and the field settled into a
forced quiet.
Wayne hurried up to the plate and took his
position. He had always been a timely hitter, and
he gritted his teeth in his resolve to settle this
game. Mackay whirled his long arm, wheeled,
took his long stride, and pitched a slow, tantalizing
ball that seemed never to get anywhere. But
Wayne waited, timed it perfectly, and met it
squarely.
The ball flew safely over short, and but for a
fine sprint and stop by the left fielder, would have
resulted in a triple, possibly a home run. As it
was, Burns and Huling scored; and Wayne, by a
slide, reached second base. When he arose and
saw the disorderly riot, and heard the noise of
that well-dressed audience, he had a moment of
exultation.
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