"Armstrong up!" called the scorer, when he could make himself heard.
"Oh, what's the use of playing it out?" asked Beeby.
"Let's sweeten the score if we can," urged Dick, who did not like doing anything by halves. But there was little interest in the game now, for Kentfield had won, and nothing could take it from her. Still Armstrong got up, and promptly fanned out, over which fact there was no regret, rather gladness on the part of the champions, who wanted to quit and celebrate.
Dejectedly Blue Hill filed off the field, after they had cheered and been cheered. The great game was over, the crowds thronged down from the grandstands. The Kentfield nine and the substitutes got together, and cheered Dick to the echo. Then with a singing of the song that always followed a victory they dispersed to the dressing rooms. Their baseball season was over.
"You certainly did yourself and us proud, Dick," said Paul, as he and his chum walked away together. "I wish Uncle Ezra could have seen you."
"Oh, he'd probably say that the money spent on baseball might better be used to buy interest-bearing bonds," laughed Dick. "But say, I thought I saw some of the girls here."
"They are. We'll look 'em up after we tidy up a bit."
And then came the shower baths, a changing into clean raiment and a gladsome time with the girls, who crowded around the hero of the day.
"Well, I suppose we'll soon be away from here," remarked Paul that night as he, Dick and Innis Beeby sat in the room of the latter, and talked over the great game.