The first striker in this inning for the Calumets was Charlie Webb, who was known as “the chance hitter,” but who invariably gave the ball, when he did hit it, such a tremendous blow that it whistled through the air as if it had been belched forth from a cannon. Charlie moistened his hands and swung his bat over his shoulder, as he strode up in front of Charlie King, calling in a big voice, “Now give me a high ball!” He hit the ball, hit it just where he aimed to hit it, and for a moment it was lost in the misty blue above. But Neddie Ellis, flying for the center field fence, gave the watchful spectators an inkling of the whereabouts of the vanished sphere. Charlie Webb, meanwhile, was clearing the bases at a tremendous gait, and, before the ball could be returned to the Diamond Field, he had crossed the home plate and had put his club in the lead. There was another rumble of applause from the sympathetic Chicago onlookers, and Alice Howell’s peachy cheek fairly paled. But she said not a word.
Now McWilliams hit a grounder to Larry Boyne who managed, by dint of a hard struggle, to get it to first base in good season, and Mac went out. Ayres, the gallant captain, met with the same fate in his turn, sending a fly to Larry; and Sam Morse ended the second inning by being fielded out at first base by Stirling. At this, there was a sigh of relief from the Catalpa section, and no audible cheer among the friends of the home club.
In the third inning, the Catalpas managed to gain some of their lost ground by making the single run necessary to put them even with their antagonists. Sam Morrison hit a sharp ball to Handy, who attempted to field it, but the sphere went through his hands and bounded over the foul line. Morrison was about to return to the home plate, thinking that the ball was “foul.” But Larry Boyne impetuously cried, “Hold your base!”
Instantly, the crowds were all excitement. Men and boys rose to their feet shouting “Foul!” “Foul!” All was confusion, and Mr. Heaton, Albert, and the young ladies in the upper box looked on speechlessly as the pandemonium raged below.
The umpire seemed dazed, and the hooters, who are ever present, yelled “Foul ball!” “Foul ball!” as if their noise would determine the question. Ben Burton, with an expression of mixed amazement and chagrin, watched Larry, who approached the puzzled umpire with Spalding’s official guidebook of baseball. The umpire glanced over the open page and his countenance cleared at once.
Bowing with cold politeness, he said, “You are right, Mr. Boyne. I am glad to see that you prairie players are well informed as to all the points in the national game.”
Larry acknowledged the compliment with a manly salutation and returned to the players’ bench. But the spectators would have no such result, and howled on vociferously. The umpire called the game and playing was stopped until silence was restored. When he could be heard, the umpire read the rule in a stentorian tone of voice, whereupon there was some grumbling, but the generous majority, seeing the justice of the position taken for the visitors, cheered “The Curly-headed Cat.” Larry acknowledged the dubious compliment. Alice Howell hid her blushing face behind her parasol, and the game went on.
But it was evident that this episode had shaken the Calumets a little, as the next two strikers secured their bases by errors. Ellis won his by a misplay by Glenn Otto, and King took his by an error on the part of Handy. This left the three bases occupied and nobody put out—a capital chance for the Catalpas to get in some telling work. Stirling was retired at first base by Handy, but his being out allowed Sam Morrison to cross the marble plate in safety, by skillful base-running. John Brubaker hit a fly to Peabody in the right field; the latter captured the ball and also made a fine double play as Neddie Ellis tried to come home on it, forgetting the reputation which Peabody had won as a long thrower. And then the Catalpas again took the field.
“I tell you what, boys, it’s mighty tough work to beat these prairie roosters,” said the good-natured captain of the Calumets, as his associates took their seats once more on the players’ bench.
“If we could only once get a good lead on them,” remarked Jamie Kennedy, “I am sure they would be so badly demoralised that we should get away with them. But they don’t seem to scare worth a cent. They hold on like grim death.”
This conversation was brought to a close by the umpire shouting, “John Handy to the bat!” and John convinced the spectators, as the Dean County Sheriff remarked, that he was “not handy at batting,” for he was struck out; and Peabody, who followed, went out on a foul to Captain Porter. Tom Shoff then proved that he was not wholly “The Jonah” that Charlie King had feared him to be by merely going out on a long fly to left field. This ended the third inning, with the contestants neck and neck, each being credited with four runs.
As he took his position before the pitcher, Captain Hiram Porter expressed to his comrades his conviction that the Catalpas were to do some good work in that inning. He felt it “in his bones,” he said, whereat Ben Burton laughed contemptuously, and said to “The Lily,” who sat next him, that if the bones of Captain Hiram were to be the barometer of the game, the Catalpas would be in hard luck. He
