There was to be no more practice in the morning, for Seymour believed his men were all in apple-pie condition, and that too much work might make them “go stale.”
Hence they would be allowed to do whatever they pleased during the morning, providing every one turned out at three sharp in the afternoon, for the game was to begin at three-thirty.
It was in the morning that Frank appeared at the house where Ralph boarded. The other saw him far down the street, and was out on the stoop by the time Frank arrived. He looked eagerly at the visitor, as though a hope had flashed into his mind that the other brought news.
“How are you feeling this morning, Ralph? How’s that arm? Hope you didn’t try it out too hard yesterday afternoon. There’s no telling, you know, and perhaps you might be called on to do your duty to old Columbia to-day.”
Ralph looked at his friend, and his eyes began to show anxiety.
“Oh! I hope you’re not going to say something has happened to knock you out, and this such an important game, too?” he exclaimed.
“Now I should have known that you’d jump to such a conclusion, and it was silly of me to put it that way. No, there’s not the slightest thing the matter with me that I know of, Ralph. My arm feels just fine, and I think I’m fit to pitch the game of my life; but as they say, you can’t most always sometimes tell. Perhaps they may knock me out of the box to-day,” laughed Frank.
“I don’t believe it can be done,” declared Ralph. “Why, there were only three clean hits made off you last week; and from the way you put them in yesterday, I firmly believe you’re ten per cent stronger now than you were a week ago.”
“But they may have gauged my delivery then, and be on to most of my little tricks, you see. Besides, I heard that during the week they have had that Clifford pitcher, Gus Hartigan, tossing them up every p. m., and our boys say that he is a ringer for a certain Frank Allen in his style of delivery.”
Ralph looked surprised at hearing this. Nevertheless he would not confess that he entertained the least doubt about the ability of the boy he admired to make the heavy batters of Bellport “look small.”