Duveen sent up another ball, high and swift.
Burt hit straight over the first baseman, a line
drive that struck the front of the right-field
bleachers.
``Peacherino!'' howled a fan.
Here the promise of Burt's speed was fulfilled.
Run! He was fleet as a deer. He cut through
first like the wind, settled to a driving strides
rounded second, and by a good, long slide beat
the throw in to third. The crowd, who went to
games to see long hits and daring runs, gave him
a generous hand-clapping.
Old Well-Well appeared on the verge of apoplexy.
His ruddy face turned purple, then black;
he rose in his seat; he gave vent to smothered
gasps; then he straightened up and clutched his
hands into his knees.
Burt scored his run on a hit to deep short, an
infielder's choice, with the chances against retiring
a runner at the plate. Philadelphia could not
tally again that inning. New York blanked in the
first of the next. For their opponents, an error,
a close decision at second favoring the runner,
and a single to right tied the score. Bell of New
York got a clean hit in the opening of the fifth.
With no one out and chances for a run, the
impatient fans let loose. Four subway trains in
collision would not have equalled the yell and stamp
in the bleachers. Maloney was next to bat and
he essayed a bunt.
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