“No one—we hope,” replied Ned.
“Can he work next week?” asked Walter eagerly.
“The doctor man says he thinks so, at least he’ll be good for a part of the game. The arm has a bad bump, but it’ll be all right pretty soon.”
“Great!” exclaimed Carlton excitedly, his face beaming with the worship of his hero. “Then we’ll win the championship yet. There’s another game with the Military Academy——”
“On their grounds,” suggested Dan dryly.
“That won’t make any difference—if your arm is all right.”
“And our nine can hit enough to make a few runs,” suggested Ned. “It’s all well enough to have a good pitcher, but all he can do is to keep the other fellows from scoring. That doesn’t win a game.”
“It keeps the other nine from winning, doesn’t it?” demanded Walter, now quick to come to the support of his roommate.
“I guess it does,” laughed Ned, “but I’m telling you that we’ll have to do better work with the bat than we did to-day if we are going to win out in the new league.”