By no visible sign did Locke show that the words of his friend reached his ears. On the other hand, the rooting of the immense crowd in the stands seemed to annoy him in a most unusual way. And when one individual, with a voice like a locomotive whistle, shrieked that he was “wild,” “no good,” “easy,” and “punk,” he remained for some moments staring at the spot from which the cries seemed to come. “Don’t mind that, old man,” pleaded Grant. “You know what you can do. Bugs is your next victim. Mow him down.” Again the troubled pitcher seemed to lack control, for he handed up two wild ones that made Nelson stretch himself to pull them down. Again the coachers prophesied that he would be obliging enough to give the hitter a walk. It is likely Murray thought there was a good prospect of such a thing, for he held back when Locke, after a seeming struggle to pull himself together, shot one down the groove. “Strike-ah!” called the umpire, flinging up his hand. “Why, of course, of course!” whooped Dalton. “You’ve got him hypnotized, Lefty. No free passes this inning.” But Laughing Larry was mistaken. With Murray waiting confidently, the laboring southpaw was unable to find the pan again, and four balls sent Bugs capering with elephantine grace to first. “Going up! going up!” he whooped, doing a dance on the sack. “Wait it out, Dil. He’s all shot to pieces.” After glancing toward his manager for a signal, Dillingham dropped one of the two bats he had been swinging, and hastened to put himself into position to do a little business with the other one. Logie, fourth on the list, and therefore a most reliable club swinger, followed Dillingham. And Logie was the only man who, all through the game, had shown the ability to fathom anything Locke put within his reach. With this fact in mind, the Specter manager felt that, even though two should be down, and a runner on second, with Logie batting it meant an even chance to get the run which would tie the score. “If we can tie it up now,” he thought, “we’ve got that left-hander’s goat. He’s barely been holding himself together, and a tie score in this inning would scatter him all over the lot.” So Dillingham was given the signal to sacrifice, and he passed the sign to Murray, who ceased his capering and made ready to tear up the chalk line on the way to second. Like the shouting of the crowd, the antics of Murray had seemed to disturb Lefty, and when he threw once to drive Bugs back to the initial sack he made such a wild heave that Spider Grant pulled the ball down only by a most amazing leap into the air. “Wow! wow!” laughed the coacher at that base. “He made you stretch, Spider. He can’t even throw to the sacks. What’s the matter with him――struck by ’stigmatism?” There really seemed that there was something the matter with Locke’s eyes, for again and again he passed his hand across them, like one brushing away cobwebs.