“I think I ought to be allowed to pitch,” grumbled Brassy. “I’m sure I can send ’em in just as good as any of those other fellows.”
“You pitch a pretty swift ball, I admit,” returned Gif. “But your delivery is rather erratic. You put them over the catcher’s head several times. If you did that when the bases were full, it would mean just so many runs coming in.” And after that Brassy said no more about pitching.
The first game to be played was on the grounds of Longley Academy. The cadets journeyed to the place in carriages and automobiles and on bicycles, and were joined by quite a number of the girls from Clearwater Hall.
“Do you suppose Tommy Flanders will pitch?” questioned Randy.
“No. They tell me that last game we had over here was too much for Flanders and he has given up the nine entirely. I think they’ll put in that new left-hander that they tried at the end of that game,” answered Jack. And in this surmise he was correct.
When the first man came to the bat it was easy to be seen that both nines were on their mettle. It was a Colby Hall player who had the stick, and the left-handed twirler for Longley Academy struck him out in one-two-three order.
“Hurrah! That’s the way to do it!” yelled one of the Longley students. “Now make it three straight!”
“Gee! that was Nevins, one of our best batters,” whispered Randy to his cousin Mary.
“Never mind that, Colby Hall!” shouted Jack. “You’ve got to encourage ’em a little bit!” and at this there was a smile.
The next man to the bat got a hit and on a wild pitch managed to reach third. But that was all that could be done, and Colby Hall retired without scoring.