Charlie King was the first man to be put out; he hit the ball, which was a sharp one, to John Handy at third base, and that active young man mastered it in fine style and retired Charlie at first base. The hit, however, proved to be of value as it sent Neddie Ellis safely across the goal and was the means of tallying the third run for the visiting nine. Hart Stirling went out on a foul ball to Charlie Webb, and John Brubaker sent up a skyscraper which was captured by McWilliams in the left field. This ended the first half of the first inning, and, with light hearts and radiant faces, the Catalpas went to the field.
As Larry took his position at third base, he glanced furtively toward the draped box on the right of the grandstand. At that moment, a blue parasol was unfurled, for the sun now broke forth from the clouds and mist. One glance was all that he could spare, but it was enough. “She has come,” he said to his secret heart.
The Calumets, on the other hand, were coming in from the field with looks of consternation which did not escape the attention of the coldly critical young ladies in the upper box. Scanning them through her glass, Alice declared that they looked as if they were going to a funeral, and Deputy Sheriff Wheeler, far around on the other side of the enclosure, in the more democratic open seats, said very much the same thing.
“Never mind, boys,” said Captain Ayres, trying to instil a bit of courage into his men. “Perhaps that is a lively ball and we may bat it all over the field.”
The gallant captain took his place at the bat, and hit a line ball which was neatly captured by John Brubaker, who received a round of applause, and Ida Boardman waved at him her parasol, with the involuntary cry of “Good, John!” More fortunate than his captain was Sam Morse, the next at the bat. He solved the mysteries of Charlie King’s in-shoot and hit the ball over Hart Stirling’s head for one base. John Handy then handled the ashen stick and sent a slow ball to Ben Burton who fumbled it and allowed the striker to reach first base, even so far forgetting himself as to neglect to throw the ball to Stirling who stood ready and impatient at second base to head off Sam Morse. Stirling grew red in the face, clearly losing his temper, and, judging from the look he wore, the low murmur in which he gave a word to the shortstop was no pleasant one to hear.
The fourth man at the bat for the Calumets was Rob Peabody, who sent up a short fly which fell into the willing hands of the second baseman, making two out for the Calumets with two of the bases occupied, when Tom Shoff went to the batsman’s square.
“Ah, this is my Jonah!” said Charlie King, beckoning to the fielders to move backward, knowing Shoff’s ability as a batter. In this judgment Charlie was correct, for Shoff hit the first ball pitched, and sent it sailing into the right field, out of the reach of the anxious fielder there, and bringing in two runs and allowing Thomas himself to gain the third base in safety, greatly to the comfort of the Calumets who grinned among themselves as they saw all this from the bench.
Glenn Otto now took his turn at the bat, and it was evident that King was out of humor, as he sent the sphere with such vehemence that he nearly paralyzed big Bill Van Orman’s hands. In spite of the heavy gloves he wore, the unfortunate catcher’s hands began to swell until, as the Dean County deputy sheriff, from his distant post remarked, “They looked like canvassed hams.” But Otto calmly waited for a good ball and when he got it, he gently tapped it, sending it to left field for a single sending in, and Shoff made the score even at three and three. Jamie Kennedy finished the first inning by hitting a short fly to King. “Hurrah for the Calumets!” shouted some of the more excitable spectators. “Three cheers for Tom Shoff and Glenn Otto!” cried another, and the enthusiasm did not abate until these two complimented gentlemen turned themselves about and doffed their caps.
“I don’t think that that was very smart,” said Ida Boardman, with as much asperity as she was capable of showing. “Our boys have done much better playing than that without making any fuss about it.”
“Pretty good playing, though,” said Albert Heaton, as he darted out to send off a despatch to the anxious people in Catalpa.
“We could be worse off,” was Hiram Porter’s remark, who was preparing to face Morse’s curves. “Boys,” he continued, “we are on even terms and stand the same chance of winning that they do.”
“Provided we are as good players as they are,” put in Ben Burton, with a little laugh.
Porter hit a swift grounder to Handy who failed to master it in time to head off the swift base runner, who reached the first bag in safety. Ben Burton behaved as if he were afraid of injuring the ball and the result was that he was sent back to the players’ bench by hitting an easy ball to Glenn Otto. “The Lily” next essayed his skill and hit the sphere with all his great might, but Jamie Kennedy handled it finely and retired the striker at first base. Larry Boyne, whose turn came next, was hailed by the champions and friends of the Catalpas as the man who would put in a safe hit; but he was caught
