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Center-field threw with all his might, but the distance was long. Second base had to stoop for the ball. Even at that, it got past his hands. He wheeled, bolted after the ball, got it and made a throw to the catcher. Out of the corner of his eyes, young Prescott saw the arching ball descend, a good throw and a true one.
The rest of the judges turn 'round 'n' look at somethin' over across the center-field. "I tells Elsy his hoss is all to the merry, but we don't want him to win till the odds get right. He's standin' beside me at the race, 'n' Alcyfras runs next to last.
As in practice on the day Hooker had pitched to him, Stone laced the ball straight over the center-field fence for a home run, and pandemonium broke loose and continued while he jogged slowly over the bases. The score was again tied. Roy Hooker had not been fully at ease, and his face turned almost ashen as he saw the ball disappearing beyond the fence.
"Judge Dillon won't stand fur hop he won't even let you slip a slug of booze into a hoss," Blister had once told me. I had not altogether understood this at the time, but now I looked at the big quiet man with his splendid sportsmanship, and loved him for it. A roar came from the grand-stand across the center-field. "They're off in the first race," said Blister.
'I wouldn't ride a bull on that saddle! "I see there's no use to argue, so I beats it across the center-field, cops the saddle 'n' comes back. I run all the way, but it's gettin' awful light. "'Send him a mile in forty-five 'n' see what he's got left, I says, as I throws Joe up. "'Right in the notch if he's got the step, he says.
My head rested in the center of the lower door of 84. From time to time a warm moist breath, accompanied by a gigantic sigh, would play against the back of my neck; or my hat would be pushed a bit farther over my eyes by a wrinkling muzzle for Tambourine, gazing out into the green of the center-field, felt a vague longing and wished to tell me about it.
It was a mighty drive and as the ball soared and soared over the center-field Hunt raced down the base line, and the winged-footed Crane sped outward, the bleachers split their throats. The hit looked good for a home run, but Crane leaped up and caught the ball in his gloved hand.
"'It ain't nothin', I says. 'He'll be all right in a minute. "We lets Mrs. Boone off after while 'n' keeps on goin' fur a mile or so till we come to some gates. In gold letters over the gates is 'Ohio's Beauty Spot, 'n' below that in bigger letters yet is 'Lake Minnehaha Park. We goes through these gates 'n' there's the track. More'n half the center-field is took up by a baseball diamond.
What about that ball? It was rolling on the ground, now, many yards ahead of the flying center-field. Dick was nearing third, the man ahead of him fast nearing the home plate. Centerfield had the ball in his hands, whirling as if on springs. Third man safe home -Dick Prescott turning the third bag and into the last leg of the diamond.
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