"A fellow never can guess when he has Dick thrashed," he said to a South beside him.
"I didn't expect to see you play out before him in the ninth,
Ted," replied the classmate.
"Neither did I," muttered Teall gloomily.
"Strike three! Out!" sounded Umpire Tozier's droning voice.
Then Ted sat up straight, rubbing his eyes.
"Two out, and no one on bases!" groaned Ted. "Oh, fellows—-those of you who have a chance—-do something. For goodness' sake, do something to save South Grammar."
A few agonized moments passed while those at the batting benches looked on at the fellow now performing by the plate.
"Strike three! Out!" remarked Ben Tozier decisively. Then the game was given to the Central Grammar boys by a score of five to four. The championship of the local Grammar League was also awarded them.
Ted gulped down hard. Some of his fellows looked decidedly mad.
"It's a shame!" choked Wells.