With the heavy batters up the excitement increased.A continuous scream and incessant rattle of tin cans made it impossible to hear what the umpire called out.But that was not important, for he seldom had a chance to call either ball or strike.Harris had lost his speed and nearly every ball he pitched was hit by the Madden's Hill boys.Irvine cracked one down between short and third.Bo and Pickens ran for it and collided while the ball jauntily skipped out to left field and, deftly evading Bell, went on and on.Bob reached third.Grace hit another at Dundon, who appeared actually to stop it four times before he could pick it up, and then he was too late.The doughty bow-legged Sam, with his huge black eye, hung over the plate and howled at Muckle.In the din no one heard what he said, but evidently Muck divined it.For he roused to the spirit of a pitcher who would die of shame if he could not fool a one-eyed batter.But Sam swooped down and upon the first ball and drove it back toward the pitcher.Muck could not get out of the way and the ball made his leg buckle under him.Then that hit glanced off to begin a marvelous exhibition of high and erratic bounding about the infield.
Daddy hunched over his soap-box bench and hugged himself.He was farsighted and he saw victory.Again he watched the queer antics of that little yarn ball, but now with different feelings.
Every hit seemed to lift him to the skies.He kept silent, though every time the ball fooled a Natchez player Daddy wanted to yell.And when it started for Bo and, as if in revenge, bounded wickeder at every bounce to skip off the grass and make Bo look ridiculous, then Daddy experienced the happiest moments of his baseball career.Every time a tally crossed the plate he would chalk it down on his soap box.
But when Madden's Hill scored the nineteenth run without a player being put out, then Daddy lost count.He gave himself up to revel.He sat motionless and silent; nevertheless his whole internal being was in the state of wild tumult.It was as if he was being rewarded in joy for all the misery he had suffered because he was a cripple.
He could never play baseball.but he had baseball brains.He had been too wise for the tricky Stranathan.He was the coach and manager and general of the great Madden's Hill nine.
If ever he had to lie awake at night again he would not mourn over his lameness; he would have something to think about.To him would be given the glory of beating the invincible Natchez team.So Daddy felt the last bitterness leave him.And he watched that strange little yarn ball, with its wonderful skips and darts and curves.The longer the game progressed and the wearier Harris grew, the harder the Madden's Hill boys batted the ball and the crazier it bounced at Bo and his sick players.Finally, Tay Tay Mohler hit a teasing grounder down to Bo.
Then it was as if the ball, realizing a climax, made ready for a final spurt.When Bo reached for the ball it was somewhere else.Dundon could not locate it.And Kelly, rushing down to the chase, fell all over himself and his teammates trying to grasp the illusive ball, and all the time Tay Tay was running.He never stopped.But as he was heavy and fat he did not make fast time on the bases.Frantically the outfielders ran in to head off the bouncing ball, and when they had succeeded Tay Tay had performed the remarkable feat of making a home run on a ball batted into the infield.
That broke Natchez's spirit.They quit.They hurried for their bats.Only Bo remained behind a moment to try to get his yarn ball.But Sam had pounced upon it and given it safely to Daddy.
Bo made one sullen demand for it.
``Funny about them fast finishes of yours!'' said Daddy scornfully.``Say! the ball's our'n.The winnin' team gits the ball.Go home an' look up the rules of the game!''
Bo slouched off the field to a shrill hooting and tin canning.
``Fellers, what was the score?'' asked Daddy.
Nobody knew the exact number of runs made by Madden's Hill.
``Gimme a knife, somebody,'' said the manager.
When it had been produced Daddy laid down the yarn ball and cut into it.The blade entered readily for a inch and then stopped.Daddy cut all around the ball, and removed the cover of tightly wrapped yarn.Inside was a solid ball of India rubber.
``Say! it ain't so funny now--how that ball bounced,'' remarked Daddy.
``Wot you think of that!'' exclaimed Tom, feeling the lump on his head.
``T-t-t-t-t-t-t-ta-tr----'' began Tay Tay Mohler.
``Say it! Say it!'' interrupted Daddy.
``Ta-ta-ta-tr-trimmed them wa-wa-wa-wa-with their own b-b-b-b-b-ba-ba-ball,'' finished Tay.
