“That was hard luck!” he exclaimed. “I tried to place that hit, but I didn’t judge the curve just right.”
Naturally Merry felt somewhat disappointed, but he accepted the result philosophically, knowing such things were the penalty of fate in baseball.
Gamp came out not a whit the less resolute and determined. He felt that it was up to him to do something, and he tried hard, but Wolfers was on his mettle at last, and he struck Joe out.
“That’s the stuff!” roared the big man. “Now you’re getting into gear, Robert!”
Then he urged the local players to go in and hammer Frank all over the lot. Rush was eager to follow this advice. He was too eager, for Merry led him into putting up a pop fly, which fell into the hands of Rattleton.
Glade followed and tried a waiting game. Seeing what he was doing, Merry put two swift ones over the inside corner, and two strikes were called.
Then Glade hit a pretty grounder to Morgan, who made a mess of it, permitting the Elkton man to reach first.
It was recorded as an error for Dade. Morgan was angry, but Merry soothed him with a word or two.
“Those things will happen occasionally,” said Frank. “You’ll get the next one, my boy.”
“You bet I will!” Dade muttered to himself.