“But we’ve all got to play harder,” declared Frank. “If the scrub beats us again—well, they mustn’t, that’s all, if we have to ‘bean’ some of their best men.”
“Meaning those motor boy fellows, as you call them?” asked Jake Porter.
“I’m not mentioning any names,” retorted Frank. “Only play hard, that’s all.”
There was another practice game two days later, and though the scrub did its best to beat the varsity, the second nine was beaten six to ten. Ned, Bob and Jerry were a trio of strength, but they lacked support at critical moments, and though Ned did not allow many hits, those that were made off him were well placed.
“This is more like it,” said Frank to his lads, as they walked off the field. “They only beat us the other time by a fluke.”
“A fluke! Huh!” exclaimed Ned. “We’ll have a few more of those same flukes served up to you soon.”
“Don’t start anything,” begged Jerry, in a low voice.
The varsity was playing good ball, though there was room for improvement, and Frank realized it. He was a good captain and manager, though his stubbornness was not of any benefit to him nor the team.
The time was approaching for the first game of the three with Kenwell. This would take place on the grounds of the military academy. The second game would be played at Boxwood Hall, and the third, if it were needed, would be played at either place, to be decided by lot.