The league association held a meeting, at which the managers of the various teams were commanded to appear. At this meeting it was asserted that Elkton had transgressed the by-laws, and it was voted to suspend the Elks until the team should be placed in organized form to comply with the requirement concerning salaried players.
Elkton stood her ground, contending that if her business men were patriotic enough to employ baseball players as clerks and let them off from their labors to play baseball the by-laws of the league were not transgressed.
The matter was hanging fire. The Central League was puttering along with three teams. Elkton believed the other places would succumb in time. And so, in order to keep things moving and get her team into the best form possible, Elkton arranged games with independent teams.
And it happened that this was the situation just when the Merries struck the town. Frank and his team had not been an hour in the town when their presence became known to the manager of the Elks, and a representative at once called on Frank and challenged him to a game. The challenge was promptly accepted, and the citizens of Elkton and the surrounding country turned out in large numbers to witness the work of the reorganized Elks against what was known to be the strongest independent team in the country.
At first the spectators had been disappointed as the visitors seemed to have everything their own way, but at the end of seven hard-hitting innings the Elks tied the score at nine to nine.
Dade Morgan was pale and dejected as he took a seat beside Frank on the bench.
“You must go in and pitch the game out, Merry,” he said. “My arm is gone. I’ve pitched it clean off trying to hold them down. They’ll bat me all over the lot if I stay in. It will be a shame to lose this game after holding them down to one run for five innings. If they take the lead we’re ruined. That man Wolfers, who replaced Cutts in the fifth, is a wonder. We haven’t been able to get a hit off him.”
“He’s a good pitcher,” agreed Frank. “I’ve been watching him. He has all kinds of kinks and speed, and his head is full of brains. But you know why I don’t want to pitch to-day, Dade. My ankle is almost well. If I pitch, I’m sure to hurt it. Next week, according to promise, I’m due back at Ashport to take part in the all-round championship contest. I can’t compete in that with a lame ankle.”
“You’re right,” admitted Morgan. “I’ll finish the game if you say so; but I’m confident I’ll never pitch again if I do. It will ruin my arm. You know I’m not a quitter, and I——”
“No one knows you’re not a quitter better than I do,” said Frank promptly. “If you feel that way about your arm, I wouldn’t have you stay in the box for anything in the world.”