“The worst of it is that the muscle is affected. Every time I close my hand it causes intense pain. I couldn’t do that hundreds of times during the afternoon. Ralph, it’s positively up to you to-day!” he said, finally.
Ralph sighed deeply.
“I’m awful sorry. Not that I won’t do my level best to take your place; but only for this I believe we would have won that pennant to-day. It’s fortunate there’s another game to follow,” he said, trying to cheer up.
“We’ll get this game, all right, don’t worry about that. Before the sun goes down perhaps every fellow will be shouting the praise of the new pitcher. I’m just anxious to see those Bellport batters try to size up that spit ball of yours.”
“That’s mighty white of you to say so, Frank. And you can depend on it I’ll do my level best,” returned the other, firmly.
“No fellow can do more. And now, suppose we return once more to that affair of yours. Twice we were interrupted when I started in to tell you,” and Frank pushed his guest down into a comfortable sleepy-hollow chair.
“Oh! yes. Do you know I’d forgotten that entirely, with so much other excitement going on. You said your uncle wrote he intended paying your folks a visit soon, and would meet me. I hope he makes up his mind to tell me all he knows. It means everything to me, you see,” returned Ralph.
“I intend to make him tell. He just can’t go back to the city again without letting either father or else myself know all he does. But perhaps that may not amount to much after all, Ralph.”
“What do you mean, Frank?”
“Why, you see, perhaps this mysterious person who wants to do you some good, and yet hide his, or her, light under a bushel, may have taken measures to send the money each end of a month to my uncle, and that he doesn’t know himself who really hands it over to him,” Frank continued; for he feared that his friend might allow his hopes to soar too high, only to meet with grievous disappointment.