"Come on now, Bateye, soak it in!""Say, are you going to hold that ball all day?""What's the matter with you; didn't you ever see a horsehide before?""Oh, for the love of Mike! Throw it! Throw it! Do you want to give 'ema run?""That's the way! Wake up, Bateye!"These were only a few of the expressions and questions hurled by theother players at Bateye Jones, the Freeport rightfielder, who, afterrunning back to recover a ball that had passed high over his head, washolding the sphere for a moment until he had made sure of the positionof the runner, Jake Jensen, of the Vandalia team."Throw it! Throw it! You can take a picture of it after the game!"howled Captain John Smith of the Freeport nine, as he danced aboutbehind home plate, and saw Tom Evans come in from third, and noticedJensen legging it around from second.Bateye threw, and, mingling with the cries of the players and the yellsof the crowd, there were groans of anguish as the ball passed high overthe second baseman's head, who jumped for it in vain.Bill Smith, the wiry little pitcher, made a successful grab for thehorsehide as it bounced on the ground, captured it, and hurled it tothird, just in time to catch Jensen there."Out!" yelled the umpire."Aw, say, I beat it a mile!" protested the panting runner. "What's thematter with you, Foster?""Out," said the umpire again, waving his hand to indicate that Jensenwas to leave the bag.