Frank congratulated Badger as the Kansan came in.
“The right man in the right place, Buck!” he said. “That was pretty work.”
Wiley was silent now. An atmosphere of sadness had fallen on him, and his mouth was closed.
Perhaps no one present felt worse than Hobe Manton.
“Rotten! rotten! rotten!” he kept repeating. “If they’d tied it then they would have won. I’ve lost my money! I’m busted.”
“It looks that way,” said Dent Frost.
“And we’ve lost something on your advice,” muttered Necker sourly.
The ninth inning was a swift one. O’Neill held the Merries down, but in turn Frank did not permit a single one of the three Outcasts to face him to touch the ball. All through the game he had done his level best, and the new curve had kept the great Outcasts from doing any hitting.
The game ended with the score one to nothing in favor of the Merries, who were wildly cheered by their admirers as the conquering heroes who had broken the wonderful streak of the Outcasts.
As the crowd was leaving the ground a sudden uproar broke forth. Two men were engaged in a hand-to-hand encounter not far from the home plate.