Mr. Williams motioned the infielders in and Steve’s hopes dropped. Evidently the pitcher was looking for an attempt at a bunt. At all events, Steve’s chance of “getting away with it,” as he mentally phrased it, seemed pretty slim. He wished he could manage to lay against the ball just hard enough to carry it out of the diamond, since, with the infielders all inside the base lines, a short, low fly would be the safest sort of a hit. But it was soon evident that Mr. Williams had no idea of letting him so much as touch that ball! The Mount Placid pitcher was never more deliberate or careful. The first offering went as a ball and the second looked low, but was called a strike by Mr. York. Mr. Gifford and Sam were shouting encouragingly. “Hit it out, Steve!” “Choose your alley!” “All the way ’round this time, Steve!” Mr. Williams studied the catcher’s signal very attentively, hesitated, shook his head, looked again, nodded, wound up, and pitched. The ball broke to the right and Steve stepped warily back only to realise the next instant that the sphere had crossed the inner corner of the plate and to hear the umpire fatefully announce, “Strike--two!” Steve glared wrathfully at the pitcher as that gentleman again settled the ball between his fingers, and tried to guess what the next one was to be. With two strikes against him, it was probable that Mr. Williams would waste one, but Steve wasn’t certain and so, when the dirty-white sphere again shot toward him, he glued his eyes to it and in the scant moment of time that elapsed tried his hardest to judge it. Then he brought his bat around, there was a slight tingle in his hands and he was sprinting toward first. But luck was still against him, for the discouraging cry of “Foul!” caught him halfway along the path, and he turned back, picked up his bat, and again faced the pitcher. Steve was hopeless now, and a little desperate. The absurd notion of striking at the next delivery, no matter what it might be, and so ending the suspense, came to him, and he dallied with it while Mr. Williams, slowly and deliberately, wound-up, stepped forward, and shot the ball once more toward the plate. And then Steve found himself suddenly undecided, quite lost sight of the ball for an instant, found it again just as it came close, brought his bat around half-heartedly in a despairing effort which he was perfectly certain was a hopeless one, and then felt the shock of bat and ball, heard the sudden shriek that went up from behind him and, digging his toes into the dust, put his head down and raced!