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.Then Wells flew out to center ending the chances for more runs.
As Wayne received the ball in the pitcher's box, he paused and looked out across the field toward a white-crowned motor car, and he caught a gleam of Dorothy Huling's golden hair, and wondered if she were glad.
For nothing short of the miraculous could snatch this game from him now.Burns had withstood a severe pounding, but he would last out the inning, and Wayne did not take into account the rest of the team.He opened up with no slackening of his terrific speed, and he struck out the three remaining batters on eleven pitched balls.
Then in the rising din he ran for Burns and gave him a mighty hug.
``You made the gamest stand of any catcher Iever pitched to,'' he said warmly.
Burns looked at his quivering, puffed, and bleeding hands, and smiled as if to say that this was praise to remember, and reward enough.
Then the crowd swooped down on them, and they were swallowed up in the clamor and surge of victory.When Wayne got out of the thick and press of it, he made a bee line for his hotel, and by running a gauntlet managed to escape.
Resting, dressing, and dining were matters which he went through mechanically, with his mind ever on one thing.Later, he found a dark corner of the porch and sat there waiting, thinking.
There was to be a dance given in honor of the team that evening at the hotel.He watched the boys and girls pass up the steps.When the music commenced, he arose and went into the hall.
It was bright with white gowns, and gay with movement.
``There he is.Grab him, somebody,'' yelled Huling.
``Do something for me, quick,'' implored Wayne of the captain, as he saw the young people wave toward him.
``Salisbury is yours tonight,'' replied Huling``Ask your sister to save me one dance.''
Then he gave himself up.He took his meed of praise and flattery, and he withstood the battery of arch eyes modestly, as became the winner of many fields.But even the reception after the Princeton game paled in comparison with this impromptu dance.
She was here.Always it seemed, while he listened or talked or danced, his eyes were drawn to a slender, graceful form, and a fair face crowned with golden hair.Then he was making his way to where she stood near one of the open windows.
He never knew what he said to her, nor what reply she made, but she put her arm in his, and presently they were gliding over the polished floor.To Wayne the dance was a dream.He led her through the hall and out upon the balcony, where composure strangely came to him.
``Mr.Wayne, I have to thank you for saving the day for us.You pitched magnificently.''
``I would have broken my arm to win that game,'' burst out Wayne.``Miss Huling, I made a blunder yesterday.I thought there was a conspiracy to persuade me to throw down Bellville.
I've known of such things, and I resented it.
You understand what I thought.I humbly offer my apologies, and beg that you forget the rude obligation I forced upon you.''
How cold she was! How unattainable in that moment! He caught his breath, and rushed on.
``Your brother and the management of the club have asked me to pitch for Salisbury the remainder of the season.I shall be happy to--if----''
``If what?'' She was all alive now, flushing warmly, dark eyes alight, the girl of his dreams.
``If you will forgive me--if you will let me be your friend--if--Miss Huling, you will again wear that bit of Yale blue.''
``If, Mr.Wayne, you had very sharp eyes you would have noticed that I still wear it!''
