“All right,” said Dade. “I know when I’m outclassed, and Wolfers was too good for me. I had to pitch my arm off after he went into the box.”
“Cutts was something of a cinch!” snickered Badger. “Why didn’t they keep him in? We’d rolled up fifty runs. That’s whatever!”
“Oh, great and mighty chieftain!” cried Ready, his flippant air returning; “we beseech thee to arrange another game with the frisky Elks of Elkton. We wish to wipe out the stain. Give us a chance and see us do a bit of fancy wiping.”
“I’ll do my best, fellows,” promised Frank. “But you know I’ll not be able to pitch for at least three or four more days. I don’t know whether I hurt my ankle much to-day or not. Once or twice I gave it a twist. If I’d put some one else in and let him throw the ball over the pan, it would have been better. But I thought I might save the game. This game may be a bad thing for the Elks. It may frighten the other teams in the league.”
“Go after another game right away, Frank,” urged Bart. “Put it far enough off so your ankle will get strong. We must redeem ourselves.”
The others were just as anxious. Frank found every man on the team was yearning to wipe out the disgrace of defeat, so he agreed to see Jack Lawrence, the manager of the Elks, and try to arrange another game.
CHAPTER XXXI
NO CHANCE FOR REVENGE.
Ben Raybold, representative of the Northern Securities Company, was lighting a cigar at the stand in the office of the Antlers Hotel when he heard about the game of baseball that had been played in Elkton that afternoon.
“The Merries?” said he, addressing the cigar clerk. “Do you mean Frank Merriwell’s team?”