“I’m rooting for you boys to win to-day,” remarked Pat, his freckled face wreathed with smiles.
“We’re going to fight like the mischief to do it,” returned Bobby.
“Put the whitewash brush on them,” said Scat.
“Perhaps that’s asking a little too much,” grinned Fred. “We’ll be satisfied with the big end of the score.”
Their parents smiled on them fondly and urged them to do their best to win for Rockledge, and the boys went down on the field with their hearts full of determination.
But it was evident from the moment the first ball went over the plate that it would be no easy task for either side to win. Each team was screwed to the highest pitch and full of determination and enthusiasm.
Bobby started out like a winner. His arm had never felt better, and he whipped the ball over the plate at a speed that delighted the spectators—always excepting the Belden rooters—but that made Frank Durrock a little anxious.
“Easy there, Bobby,” he counseled from first base, when the first batter had gone out on strikes. “The game’s young yet, and you’ve a long way to go.”
Bobby realized the wisdom of this, and made the next batter pop up an infield fly to Mouser at second. Then he mixed in a slow one that seemed easy enough to hit as it came floating up to the plate, but which resulted in an easy roller to the box which Bobby had plenty of time to throw to first.
“That’s what you call a change of pace, old scout,” congratulated Sparrow, as the nine came in from the field amid a general clapping of hands at the promising beginning.