“Never mind,” said the catcher on Tom’s side; “let’s draw lots for a ‘say so.’” The lot was drawn, and gave the decision in Hal’s favor.
“Three grunts for Tom,” said Hal, with the same disagreeable chuckle that had worried Tom so much the night before.
“No, no,” cried Aleck; “it was out by fair rights.”
“You’re not going to dispute the umpire, are you?” said Hal; but the umpire called time, and the game went on.
At Tom’s next pitch, Hal ran for the second base; but the catcher was too quick for him, throwing the ball to the second-baseman, who caught it, and this time Hal was fairly out.
“Judgment on that,” cried Hal and the second-baseman.
“Out on the second,” said the umpire.
“There!” cried Tom as Hal went past him; “that proves it was out on the first, anyhow. A pretty place a player like you gets into when he calls for judgment.”
Tom’s side was now in; if he could only do something that would put him for once above the range of Hal’s success! Fired with this hope and with the thought of winning laurels for such a captain as he had, he took up the bat with the determination to do something brilliant; but venturing one glance at Hal, caught sight of a sideways gesture that he knew well enough was meant to remind him of the fatal swoop of Hal’s bishops the night before, his hand faltered, and the ball, instead of taking the direction he intended, struck directly in front of him. There was no chance now but in his heels, and flying like a deer, he made the first three bases successfully, but that was all. On the home-base, he could not tell how it happened, he was put out by the catcher.
“Aha!” came up a taunting laugh from Hal’s side; “there’s a case that don’t call for judgment very much;” and Tom walked off and sat down by some of his fellows, feeling miserable enough. What was the reason all games were so disagreeable, no matter how hard a fellow tried to do his best?