“And you certainly pulled down that high one I threw you, Jerry,” added George Fitch, who, at third, had caught a bouncing ball and heaved it over to first, but so high that Jerry had to jump for it, narrowly missing the spheroid. But he put out his man.
“Some little curve you’ve got, to fool Frank,” said Lem Ferguson to Ned.
“Oh, he’s not such a hitter.”
“He’s considered pretty good, and his average is the best on the team,” declared George. “Oh, Frank is a good player, even if there are some things about him some fellows don’t like.”
The first practice game, in which the varsity went down to defeat even by so small a margin, was the talk of the college that night. Still, it was not so important as the fact would have been later in the season. The boys had not quite settled into their stride.
Frank called a meeting of the team, and he “laid down the law,” as Bart said afterward. Frank insisted that there must be more snappy playing, nor did he excuse himself for missing Ned’s curve.
“I played rotten, fellows, I admit that,” he said, “but so did you, and we’ve got to do better or Kenwell will walk all over us.”
“They’ve got a dandy team, I hear,” said Bill Hamilton. “Some new fellows have come on, and they’ve got a pitcher——”
“So have we,” interrupted Frank. “I’ll back Jim Blake against any man they have when Jim gets warmed up.”
“Thank you!” laughed Jim, making a bow.