"Oh, that's all right, I'll take your word for it," said Joe, for he appreciated the other's feelings.
"A girl, you understand, Matson. She's here to see the game," went on Campbell. "I sent her tickets, and I told her we were sure to win. She's here, and I'm going to take her out to supper to-night. I've got the stunningest tie——"
He fumbled in his pocket.
"Thought I had a sample of it here with me," he said. "But I haven't. It's sort of purple—plum color—with a shooting of gold, and it shimmers down into a tango shade. It's a peach! I was going to wear it to-night, but, if we don't win——"
His face showed his misery.
"Oh, cut it out!" advised Rad, coming up behind him. "We can't lose. Don't get mushy over an old tie."
"It isn't an old tie!" stormed Campbell. "It's a new one I had made to order. Cost me five bones, too. It's a peach!"
"Well, you'll wear it, all right," said Joe with a laugh. "I don't see how we can lose."
The Cardinals were near it, though, in the seventh inning, when, with only one out, and three on bases, Slim Cooney was called on to face one of the hardest propositions in baseball.
But he made good, and not a man crossed home plate.