double play, thought Bobby.
Crack!
A grounder to second. Al Dakin came up with it, pivoted on his right foot, and threw the ball to Bobby. Bobbystepped on second for the put-out, and heaved the pill to first.
Too wide! Tony stretched, but he couldn’t reach it! The ball bounced by, rolled toward the fence. The runner advanced to second.
The runner who had been on second scored.
Bobby shook his head hopelessly. He was sure Kirby would have caught that ball. But why did he always throw so wild? The guys
will really believe that I’m making Tony look poor on purpose, he thought unhappily.
“Come on, Bobby,” said Jim from the outfield. “Throw ’em right, will you?”
Cappie mowed the next man down on strikes. The next Mustang popped out to Bobby.
In the dugout, Coach Barrows warned Bobby about his throws. “Takeyour time. Aim for Tony’s head,” he said.
Tony Mandos led off. He took a called strike, then a ball. Bobby watched Tony carefully. Here was the boy those officials
were watching. Tony looked good at the plate. He stood with his feet apart, his knees bent slightly inward, his bat held off
his shoulder. He had a nice build, too.
Crack!
Up — up soared the ball like a tiny white meteor toward the outfield. The whole dugout emptied as the players swarmed out
and watched the ball sail. Finally it curved down and disappeared over the center field fence.
Tony trotted around the bases. Once again Coach Barrows and the rest of the players surrounded Tony and shook his hand.
That was the only run the Redbirds scored that inning.
12
C APPIE smiled as he warmed up with Dave. It was good to have a two-run lead.
The smile left his face immediately, though, after he threw the first pitch to the Mustangs lead-off hitter. The ball zoomed
like a rocket between left and center fields. Both Toby and Jim raced after it.
Bobby’s heart went cold. Toby and Jim were going to collide!
“Watch out!” he shouted. “Let Toby have it! Toby!”
Just as the ball was about to hit the ground, Toby reached out his glove, and caught it! Jim skimmed past him.
Bobby gulped. Boy! He thought they were going to hit for sure!
The next batter knocked a dribbler to short. Bobby charged in after it. I have to make this throw good, he thought. I must!
He reached for the ball. It took a bad hop, struck him on the knee. He leaped after it, picked it up, heaved it desperately
to first.
Wild again!
Tony left the bag, stabbed at the ball with his mitt. He caught it, raced back to the bag. But the runner beat him to it.
Bobby turned around disgustedly. His throwing was wrecking the game.
Then Mark missed a grounder, followed by an error by right fielder Jerry Echols which gave the Mustangs two more runs. The
score was tied now, 3-3.
“Let’s settle down!” Coach Barrows shouted from the dugout. “Let’s play ball out there!”
Man on third. A grounder to Bobby. He fielded the ball, pegged it to Dave, who was standing across home plate with his mask
off. Dave caught the ball, put it on the runner.
“Out!” shouted the ump.
Bobby ran to cover second. Al was already there. Bobby took a deep, satisfied breath as he turned and headed for his position
at short. He didn’t know how he had done it, but that throw to Dave was perfect.
Cappie struck out the next Mustang hitter.
“We have that bad inning out of our system,” said Coach Barrows. “Now, let’s get in there and play baseball.”
Al Dakin led off in the top of the third inning. He wiggled at the plate till a 2-2 count was on him, then cut hard and missed
Earl Lowe’s in-curve by six inches. Al sat down in the dust, facing the catcher with a very foolish look on his face.
Toby got on first by an error on the third baseman. Jim belted a fly to left that went foul, then drove one just inside the
third-base sack. Toby circled to third, and Jim stopped on second for a double. Dave poled a long fly that went foul by an
arm’s length, then
Crack!
A grounder to second. Al Dakin came up with it, pivoted on his right foot, and threw the ball to Bobby. Bobbystepped on second for the put-out, and heaved the pill to first.
Too wide! Tony stretched, but he couldn’t reach it! The ball bounced by, rolled toward the fence. The runner advanced to second.
The runner who had been on second scored.
Bobby shook his head hopelessly. He was sure Kirby would have caught that ball. But why did he always throw so wild? The guys
will really believe that I’m making Tony look poor on purpose, he thought unhappily.
“Come on, Bobby,” said Jim from the outfield. “Throw ’em right, will you?”
Cappie mowed the next man down on strikes. The next Mustang popped out to Bobby.
In the dugout, Coach Barrows warned Bobby about his throws. “Takeyour time. Aim for Tony’s head,” he said.
Tony Mandos led off. He took a called strike, then a ball. Bobby watched Tony carefully. Here was the boy those officials
were watching. Tony looked good at the plate. He stood with his feet apart, his knees bent slightly inward, his bat held off
his shoulder. He had a nice build, too.
Crack!
Up — up soared the ball like a tiny white meteor toward the outfield. The whole dugout emptied as the players swarmed out
and watched the ball sail. Finally it curved down and disappeared over the center field fence.
Tony trotted around the bases. Once again Coach Barrows and the rest of the players surrounded Tony and shook his hand.
That was the only run the Redbirds scored that inning.
12
C APPIE smiled as he warmed up with Dave. It was good to have a two-run lead.
The smile left his face immediately, though, after he threw the first pitch to the Mustangs lead-off hitter. The ball zoomed
like a rocket between left and center fields. Both Toby and Jim raced after it.
Bobby’s heart went cold. Toby and Jim were going to collide!
“Watch out!” he shouted. “Let Toby have it! Toby!”
Just as the ball was about to hit the ground, Toby reached out his glove, and caught it! Jim skimmed past him.
Bobby gulped. Boy! He thought they were going to hit for sure!
The next batter knocked a dribbler to short. Bobby charged in after it. I have to make this throw good, he thought. I must!
He reached for the ball. It took a bad hop, struck him on the knee. He leaped after it, picked it up, heaved it desperately
to first.
Wild again!
Tony left the bag, stabbed at the ball with his mitt. He caught it, raced back to the bag. But the runner beat him to it.
Bobby turned around disgustedly. His throwing was wrecking the game.
Then Mark missed a grounder, followed by an error by right fielder Jerry Echols which gave the Mustangs two more runs. The
score was tied now, 3-3.
“Let’s settle down!” Coach Barrows shouted from the dugout. “Let’s play ball out there!”
Man on third. A grounder to Bobby. He fielded the ball, pegged it to Dave, who was standing across home plate with his mask
off. Dave caught the ball, put it on the runner.
“Out!” shouted the ump.
Bobby ran to cover second. Al was already there. Bobby took a deep, satisfied breath as he turned and headed for his position
at short. He didn’t know how he had done it, but that throw to Dave was perfect.
Cappie struck out the next Mustang hitter.
“We have that bad inning out of our system,” said Coach Barrows. “Now, let’s get in there and play baseball.”
Al Dakin led off in the top of the third inning. He wiggled at the plate till a 2-2 count was on him, then cut hard and missed
Earl Lowe’s in-curve by six inches. Al sat down in the dust, facing the catcher with a very foolish look on his face.
Toby got on first by an error on the third baseman. Jim belted a fly to left that went foul, then drove one just inside the
third-base sack. Toby circled to third, and Jim stopped on second for a double. Dave poled a long fly that went foul by an
arm’s length, then
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