On, on, the ball went as though it were going clear to the fence. But Lange, than whom there was no swifter center fielder in either of the major leagues, had started for it at the crack of the bat, running with his back to the ball and looking back over his shoulder from time to time to gauge its course. At the last second he leaped high in the air, clutched the ball with one hand, and fell to the ground, rolling over and over, but coming up still holding on to the ball.