His hands pulled the slow-moving popball down out of the air.
Barely did Dick's feet touch the ground when he simply reached over and dropped the ball at Purcell.
The captain of the Gridley nine dropped to one knee, hands low, but he took the leather in---took it just the bare part of a second before the Waylander from third got there.
For an instant the dazed crowd held its breath just long enough to hear the umpire announce.
"Striker out! Out at home plate.

Two out!" Then the tumult broke loose.
For an instant or two Dick stood dizzy just where he had landed on his feet.
Umpire Davidson came bounding over.
"Do you want to call for a relief pitcher, Prescott ?" "No---Wayland pitched all through with one man!" Back to the box marched Dick Prescott, but he took his time about it.

He had need of a clear head and steadier nerves and muscles, for Wayland had a man again at third, and another dancing away from second.

There was plenty of chance yet to lose.
"Prescott ought to call you out," whispered Fred Ripley to Dave.
"And I'd get out there on the dead run, just as you would, Rip.
But you know how Dick feels.

Wayland went through on one man, and Dick's going to do it if he lives through the next few minutes!" While that momentary dizziness lasted, something happened that caused the young pitcher to flush with humiliation.