Snodgrass--Right field. Lee--Second base. Banghardt--Center field. Smith, Jr.--Left field. Smith, Sr.--First base. Lacy--Shortstop. Bardwell--Third base. Clay--Catcher. Coddling--Pitcher. As usual, Snodgrass could be depended upon to work the pitcher for a free ticket to the initial sack, if it was within the range of possibilities. He was a good waiter, and a fine judge of balls. “Put ’em over for this beanery waiter!” “Make him hit her out, West!” “Don’t forget you’ve got eight other fellows back of you, boy!” “Now, soak it to him, youngster. You know!” Ralph suddenly shot the ball at the batter like a flash. It passed straight over the plate as though it cut the same in two equal parts. “Strike--one!” shouted the umpire, even as Snodgrass jumped back, pretending that he had to dodge, though he grinned at the same time. CHAPTER XVI MAKING A GOOD START Through the grandstand and over the field a wave of enthusiasm went. Ralph paid no attention to the various shouts that greeted his first delivery. He tried to see how he could work his wonderful “spit” ball next, and while Snodgrass struck he never came within inches of a hit. Derisive cries began to be heard. “Get Snodgrass his glasses!” “Put him out to pasture; he’s outlived his usefulness!” Trust the ingenuity of schoolboys to invent scores of cries calculated to unnerve the batter. But Snodgrass only grinned and waited, crouching there as though ready to annihilate the next ball that came along. Ralph thought it policy to try a couple of outshoots, and as the batter failed to strike they were called balls. It was time now to take his measure again, and Snodgrass knew what was coming. “Three strikes--batter is out!” followed a wicked sweep which the Bellport right fielder made at the erratic “spit” ball that Ralph handed up. Lee stood there calmly awaiting his turn. There was something in his attitude to tell Ralph he had more to fear from the captain of the rival team than any other man on it. Twice Lee struck at elusive balls. Then he managed to connect with one and sent a screamer at “Bones” Shadduck on third, which that worthy succeeded in knocking down, though recovering the ball just too late to catch the swift runner. “Now we’re off!” howled the coach, as he came running up to take his place near the man on first. Hardly had he spoken than the ball came plunk into the hands of Lanky, who had been expecting such a thing. Lee had danced off, as was his usual custom. He made a desperate plunge for the bag, but Lanky got him. “You’re out!” shouted the umpire, waving his hand suggestively. Such a whoop as went up! It seemed as though the crowd had gone wild. Bellport supporters looked each other in the face. “What’s this we’ve struck?” said one, blankly. “He caught Cuthbert napping, sure! I never knew that to happen before!”