The Blues went to bat first and both Buster Healey and Walter White reached first, Buster on balls and the captain on a clean hit between first and second that advanced Buster to second. Then Tom faced the Lynton pitcher, who had something of a local reputation in his line, with misgivings. Down at second Buster danced and ran back and forth. At first, Walter took a good ten-foot lead. “Hit it out, Pollock!” he called encouragingly. “He hasn’t a thing on the ball!” But the Lynton pitcher had enough on it to puzzle Tom, and Tom, after knocking two fouls back of third, hit straight into the pitcher’s glove and the pitcher, whirling quickly, caught Walter a yard off the base. The next batsman made the third out and the teams changed places. Lynton didn’t even get a man to first in that inning, nor did the Blues do any better in their half of the next. In fact, nothing much happened until the fourth inning, when Lynton managed to get a man to second on a clean hit and then, with two out, brought him home with a teasing Texas Leaguer that fell midway between shortstop and centre fielder. So far Tom, in left field, had had no work to do, while at bat he had twice failed to make a hit. The Blues came back in the first of the fifth and, by a lucky infield hit that bounded meanly, placed a runner on the first bag. Tommy Hughes sacrificed with a long fly to right and put the runner on third. A moment later the score was tied when one of the tail-enders made a slashing wallop over second baseman’s head. At one to one the teams battled along until the seventh. Then ill-fortune took a hand in affairs. The Lynton third baseman caught a slow ball on his bat and smashed it straight at Thorny. The latter might readily have been excused for jumping away from it and leaving it for second baseman to handle, but instead of that he tried to knock it down--catching it was almost out of the question--and succeeded. But the ball caught him squarely on his throwing wrist and in the agony of the pain Thorny was unable to get it to first in time to head off the runner. Time was called while Walter White went down and rubbed the injured hand, and presently Thorny went on again. But after he had pitched a few more balls the wrist began to swell and stiffen and his offerings became very easy for the enemy. For the rest of that inning smart fielding delayed the inevitable, and, although Lynton got a runner on third and another on first, they died there. Thorny walked rather dejectedly to the bench and his team-mates clustered anxiously about him and viewed the swollen wrist. “Cold water is what you want there,” said Tommy Hughes. “Who’s got a handkerchief?” When one was forthcoming Tommy wet it at the water pail and bound it around the wrist.