There was no shortstop here.

The instant that Prescott took in the direction he was on the run.

There was no time to get there ahead of the rolling leather.

It was Dick's left foot that stopped it, but in the same fraction of a second he bent and swooped it up---wheeled.
Wayland's man from third base looked three fourths of the way in.

Captain Purcell, half frantic, was doubled up at the home plate.
Into that throw Dick put all the steam he had left in.