Tubbs looked ashamed and disgusted as he walked from the field.
“Dern my picter!” he kept muttering over and over to himself, paying no attention whatever to the derisive laughter and words of the spectators.
“Carelessness, Tubbs,” said Dick. “You haven’t been trapped that way before this year.”
“And I won’t be ag’in,” promised Obediah.
Buckhart was disgusted by what had happened, but, nevertheless, he hit the ball hard and fair, lifting it far into left field.
After a sharp run, Milliken caught it, and Fardale’s last chance in the second inning had vanished.
In her half of this inning Fairport made a strong bid for a run, getting a man safe on third; but Dick’s pitching proved too much for them, and Ware, the last hitter, went out on a weak pop fly.
“There!” said Zona Desmond, nudging her cousin. “You see we’re one score ahead on even innings! Let the shower come! If it doesn’t hurry too much, I fancy we will be ahead when the game stops. How many innings make a game?”
“Why, five, of course,” said Bessie.
“Then they will have to play three more, or it will be no game. My, I don’t believe they will have time! That shower is coming, and it is coming fast.”