Among the first to reach his side was Gus Kiggins. “Honestly, Dan, I didn’t mean to do it,” he said excitedly. “I thought you saw me! I’m sorry! I’m——”
“Get away, will you!” broke in Ned savagely. Thrusting aside the player who had been the cause of the trouble, Ned examined the arm which already was showing the effect of the blow. “Does it hurt much, Dan?” he inquired anxiously.
The young pitcher smiled faintly and did not reply, though the paleness of his face fully answered his friend’s query.
“Let me rub it,” suggested Hodge.
“Get some water—hot water,” added Smith, every boy being anxious to do something for the relief of Dan.
“Can you go on with the game?” asked Ned.
“I’ll try,” answered Dan by an effort. “Let me see if I can throw.” Taking the ball from the umpire’s hand Dan swung his arm, but quickly dropped the ball. “No use,” he said slowly. “My arm won’t work.”
The members of the nine glanced helplessly at one another and then glared at Gus, the source of all the trouble.
“I told you I didn’t mean to do it,” Gus growled. “I thought he saw me. We were all passing the ball——”