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When I had watched a couple of his pitches, which the umpire called strikes, I gave him credit for as much speed as Rusie. These balls were as straight as a string, singularly without curve, jump, or variation of any kind. I lined the next one so hard at the shortstop that it cracked like a pistol as it struck his hands and whirled him half off his feet.

Look out for him, Roddy, or he'll add you to his list. List' to my warning." Rodney Grant did not strike out, but, nevertheless, he failed to meet one of Hooker's shoots squarely, and the grammar school shortstop gathered in an easy grounder and threw to first for the third put-out. Roger Eliot lingered to speak a word to Hooker, and Springer, still unnoticed, plainly heard what he said.

After that, came several base hits in rapid succession. These brought in not only Tom, but also the man behind him. Then came a bad fumble on the part of the Roxley shortstop, and, as a result, another run was put up to the credit of Brill. "Seven runs. That's going some!" "I guess this is Brill's game, after all." "Make it a round dozen while you're at it, boys." But this was not to be.

The name "bandy" is sometimes applied also to shinney or shinty and in England it is also applied to our American game of ice hockey. The national game of America. The positions are pitcher, catcher, first base, second base, third base, shortstop, right-field, left-field, centre-field. The first six positions are called the in-field, and the last three, the out-field.

Willard's shortstop fell victim to the rival pitcher's curves and third baseman took his place. With two strikes called on him he found something he liked and let go at it. When the tumult was over he was sitting on second base. Don Satterlee stepped up to the plate and the cheerers demanded a home-run.

Then came Dowdy to the bat. He was far and away the best batsman from Gardiner. Prendergast began to edge in. "Strike one!" from the umpire. Crack! The leather hung low, a little to the left of shortstop, who raced after it. Prendergast was going in at a tremendous clip. As shortstop reached the ball, he swooped down on it, stopped its rolling, and rising quickly, hurled it in across the plate.

McCall dumped a slow teaser down the line, a hit that would easily have scored Rube, but he ran a little way, then stopped, tried to get back, and was easily touched out. Ashwell's hard chance gave the Bison's shortstop an error, and Stringer came up with two men on bases. Stringer hit a foul over the right-field fence and the crowd howled.

The manager had chosen Frank Price for that important position, and Frank's one ambition was to be a shortstop. So there was a deadlock. For a while there seemed no possibility of a game. Willie sat on the bench, the center of a crowd of discontented, quarreling boys. Some were jealous, some were outraged, some tried to pacify and persuade the others. All were noisy.

There was Alan Tyree, for instance, whose masterly pitching had done so much to land the pennant of the Three Town High School League that season for Scranton; Owen Dugdale, the efficient shortstop of the local nine; "Just" Smith, whose real name it happened was Justin, but who seldom heard it outside of school and home.

"We're lacking one man," announced the captain of the Crimsons, with sudden consternation. "Haven't you another chap who can play, Dick?" "Nobody, I'm afraid, unless you want to haul in some of the chauffeurs," Dick answered idly. "Jove! That's hard luck. We've got to have a shortstop. What are we going to do?" "Wasn't there a boy around here somewhere this morning with the dogs?