“You mind your own——” began Frank angrily, when Oscar Durand, the captain of the Kenwell team, stepped forward.
“Say,” he remarked in his slow, good-natured drawl, “go on and put in all the new men you want to. We don’t care. We’ll play a whole new team if you say so. Only do something, and don’t delay the game.”
Frank still hesitated. It was clear that he hated to give in to the boys whom he so disliked, but still he was enough of a ball player to realize that unless something were done Boxwood Hall would go down to defeat.
“Play ball!” came the insistent cries from the stands.
Ted Newton, the football hero of the school, hastened out to the sullen baseball captain.
“Put the three in, Frank,” he said. “It’s your only chance.”
Ted was chairman of the athletic advisory board, and he had much influence. Frank felt that his position was a shaky one.
“All right,” he said, sullenly. “I’ll let ’em play. Come on, Hopkins—Slade—Baker!” he called. “Get in the game.”
“Am I to pitch?” asked Ned.
“I suppose so.”