The center-fielder knocked a fly into the hands of the first baseman, who stood on the bag.  Sawed-Off barely escaped falling victim to a double play by beating the fly to first.

Again Jumbo labored mightily to advance Sawed-Off, and did indeed get him to second on a well-situated base-hit.  The next Kingstonian, however, the third baseman, knocked to the second baseman a bee-liner that was so straight and hot that the second baseman could neither have dodged nor missed it had he tried; so he just held on to it, and set his foot on the bag, and caught Sawed-Off before he could get back to the base.

The fourth inning was opened by a Charlestonian, who sent a singing fly right over Sawed-Off’s head.  He seemed to double his length like a jack-knife.  When he shut up again, however, the ball was not in his hand, but down in the right-field.  It was a master stroke, but, worth only one base to Charleston.

The second man at the bat fell prey to Reddy’s bewildering curves, and Reddy heard again that sweetest sound a pitcher can hear, the umpire’s voice crying: 

“Striker—­out!”

The Charlestonian who had lined out the beautiful base-hit proved himself the possessor of a pair of heels as good as his pair of eyes, and just as Reddy had declared by his motions such a readiness to pitch the ball that he could not have changed his mind without being declared guilty of a balk—­just at that instant the Charlestonian dashed madly for second base.  Heady snatched off his mask and threw the ball to second with all the speed and correctness he was master of; but the throw went just so far to the right that Tug, leaning far out, could not recover himself in time to touch the runner.

[Illustration:  “‘STRIKER—­OUT!’”]

These two now began to play a game of hide-and-seek about second base, much to Reddy’s discomfort.  There is nothing so annoying to a pitcher as the presence of a courageous and speedy base-runner on the second base; for the pitcher has always the threefold terror that in whirling suddenly he may be found guilty of balking, or in facing about quickly he may make a wild throw; and yet if he does not keep a sharp eye in the back of his head, the base-runner can play off far enough to stand a good chance of stealing third safely.

Reddy engaged in this three-cornered duel so ardently that before he knew it he had given the man at the bat a base on balls.  This added to his confusion, and seeing at the bat the Charleston catcher who had in the second inning knocked out a perfect base-hit and made two bases on it, Reddy left the wily fox at second base to his own devices, and paid no heed to Tug’s efforts to beat the man back to second.  Suddenly the fellow made a dart for third; though Heady’s throw was straight and swift, the fellow dived for the base, and slid into safety under the ball.  In the shadow of this dash the other Charleston base-runner took second base without protest.