And the Hornet darted away.
CHAPTER XXV.
WON IN THE NINTH.
Fardale field was clothed in gloom. The only bright spot was the stand occupied by the Franklin rooters, and they were certainly making things lively in that quarter.
The great game was on, but as far as Fardale’s chances were concerned, it seemed to be all off. Inning after inning had run along, and time after time Fardale had been saved from disgrace only by mere good luck.
As it was, the eighth inning had started with the score four to one in favor of Franklin. And Peters, the Franklin pitcher, had tightened up after the first inning, and was invincible.
Randall, pitching for Fardale, had started out strong. In the fifth he had let in a run, and in the sixth his poor support had sent him up in the air. For Fardale had certainly put a poor team in the field, with substitutes behind the bat, on first, and in the pitcher’s box.
Even so, Randall might have held Franklin had his own men been able to hit the swift curves of Peters. Once he loosened up, however, Franklin romped away with the game, and the slaughter was on. All Fardale could now hope for was to hold down the score, and she was fighting desperately to that end.
Coach Trayne and Captain Ted Crockett were talking anxiously together while the Fardale batters were being mowed down in the final half of the eighth.
“We’re gone completely now,” announced Crockett gloomily. “We’ll get another chance next inning, but the game’s over.”