“Strike!” said the ump as Alec blazed in an inside, corner-touching pitch.
Then, “Ball!”
Barry stepped out of the box, rubbed his hands up and down on the handle of the bat, and stepped in again.
“Strike two!” boomed the ump as another inside, corner-touching pitch steamed in.
Barry’s heart pounded. He waited for the next pitch. In it came. It was almost in the same spot as the last pitch. He swung. Crack! The ball sailed out to deep left field! But the wind caught it! It was curving … curving … !
“Foul ball!” yelled the ump.
“Oh, no!” groaned the fans.
Barry was sick. It was so close!
He popped up the next pitch. Three outs.
It was over — now Barry would never get Tommy’s toy dog back.
Turtleneck struck out, and that was it. No one scored.
The Bunkers came up for their last bats, got two men on, then scored both when Judd Koles lambasted a triple to left center field. The Bunkers won, 7 to 5.
Barry headed off the field immediately, not even wanting to see that smirking look on Alec’s face, or that disappointed look on Susan’s.
“Barry! Wait up!”
He turned at the sound of the voice and saw Alec running toward him. When Alec reached him, Barry couldn’t hide his frustration. “What do you want?”
Alec suddenly seemed nervous. He stuck his hands in his pockets and said, “Uh, I just wanted to say you played a good game.”
“Not good enough,” Barry muttered.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Alec said, as he drew something out of his pocket. “What do I want with this thing, anyway?” He held out the figurine. “Here,” he said, glancing briefly at Susan, then back at Barry. “It’s yours. You won it fair and square. I have to hand it to you for telling the coach you missed second base. And if it wasn’t for that wind blowing your ball foul, it would have been a home run easily. Here, take it.”
Hardly believing his ears, Barry accepted the figurine from Alec and handed it to Susan. Then he stared at Alec, who had already turned and was running back toward his team.
“I guess he’s more honest than we thought he was,” Susan said.
Barry nodded. “I guess a person can change, if he does the right thing — can’t he?” he said softly.
“Sure, he can,” Susan said, winking at Barry. “And a person can get in trouble if she doesn’t get this doggie back to her little brother real soon.”
“Right! Let’s go!” said Barry, and they raced each other all the way home.
Does winning mean more to Barry than playing fair?
Left-fielder Barry McGee enjoys being the Peach Street Mudders’ hit-away batter. In fact, maybe he likes being a hero too much. He doesn’t mind bending the rules a little to help himself out. But when a pitcher from a rival team finds him out, Barry faces his toughest challenge yet — does he play along with the pitcher’s “deal” or does he play fair?
“Christopher’s usual deft handling of good sportsmanship is apparent.”
— ALA Booklist
Matt Christopher is the name behind more than seventy-five sports novels for young readers, including the Soccer ’Cats series of chapter books. For a complete listing of all the books in the Peach Street Mudders series, please see the last page of this book.
The Hit-Away Kid Page 3
