“Curry’s out—Curry isn’t out. Love me—love me not,” responded Joe.
By this time the crowd had got over their laugh and impatiently demanded action. The umpire cut the Gordian knot by sending Curry back to third, where he and Mackay chaffed each other and the game went on.
It was not much of a game after that, however, as the laughable incident had put all the players in a more or less frivolous mood. It finally ended in a score of six to three in favor of the All-Americans, and the teams made a break for the showers.
“The last game we play on American soil for many moons,” remarked Joe, as, having bathed and dressed, the two young athletes strolled toward their hotel.
“And every one of them a victory,” observed 132 Jim. “Not a single mark on the wrong side of the ledger!”
“That game at Denver was the closest call we had,” said Joe. “The trip so far has been a big money-maker, too. McRae was telling me yesterday that we’d already topped ninety-five thousand, and there was ten thousand in that crowd to-day if there was a penny.”
“I guess Mac won’t have any trouble in buying steamship tickets,” laughed Jim. “By the way, we haven’t had a look at the old boat yet. Let’s go down to-morrow and inspect her.”
“Why not make it the day after to-morrow?” suggested Joe. “The girls will be here by that time and we’ll take them with us.”
“That will suit me, Joe.”
“I’ve been thinking of something, Jim,” went on the crack pitcher, after a pause. “It won’t be long now before we leave America. What do you say if we do a little shopping, and buy some things for ourselves and for the girls?”