“Who? Brad?” asked Zona, who had been watching the clever work of the sturdy backstop from Texas.
“No! I mean Hal.”
“Oh, yes,” answered Zona. “He is playing a great game to-day. Don’t you think so, June?”
“I don’t believe I ever saw him pitch better,” said June.
“Pitch?” cried both girls. “Why, he isn’t pitching! He is playing shortstop.”
“Oh!” exclaimed June, getting quite red. “I—I mean—I mean I never saw him play better.”
But she did not deceive her companions. Both knew who had chained her attention.
In the seventh inning, after striking out Conway, the first batter, Dick saw Macon drive a hot grounder through Bradley and make two bags on the cockney youth’s error.
Immediately the Fairport rooters rose to their feet.
“This is the fatal seventh!” shouted one. “Here’s where we do the trick!”