“Th-th-th-thutteration!” shouted Joe Gamp, in delight. “Ain’t this a ju-ju-jolly time! A-haw! a-haw! a-haw!”
Capt. Hardy looked disgusted. Was it possible Frank Merriwell’s remarkable “scrub” team was going to hold the regular’s good play? It would be a standing joke in the college.
“Come, Haggerty!” he cried, sharply; “you’ll have to brace up. We’re out here for practice, and not to fool away our time.”
Haggerty flushed, but said nothing. He had not thought of fooling, and he did not relish being called down in such a manner.
Ned Noon was the most disgusted man on the field. Beneath his breath he muttered bitterly.
“Such beastly luck!” he muttered. “Think of Hodge getting a home run the first time up! It is frightful! I must do something to attract attention to me.”
He wondered what he could do, but resolved to watch his opportunity. Unfortunately for Noon, Haggerty was a trifle rattled, and that made him wild.
Fales was the next batter up. Haggerty was so wild that Fales might have obtained four balls, but he struck at two poor ones. Then, with the score standing two strikes and three balls, Fales struck again at an inshoot and missed.
Right there was where Noon’s hard luck came in, for Haggerty had crossed signals with him. Noon had expected an outdrop, but it was a high inshoot. Ned made a desperate attempt to stop it, but simply got his hands on it, and it went caroming off to one side, while Fales ran for first and made the bag all right.
“Look here, Noon,” came sharply from Capt. Hardy’s lips, when Ned had recovered the ball and thrown it in, “you must get a brace on. What are you under the bat for?”