“So you see we’ve just got to win,” said Joe to Charlie Hall.
“I see,” was the answer. “Well, I’ll do my share toward it, old man,” and the two clasped hands warmly. Joe was liking Charlie more and more every day. He was more like a college chum than a mate on a professional team.
But Pittston was not to have a victory in the second game with Clevefield. The latter sent in a new pitcher who “played tag,” to use a slang expression, with Joe and his mates, and they lost the contest by a four to one score. This in spite of the fact that Joe did some good work at pitching, and “Old Pop,” as he was beginning to be called, knocked a three-bagger. Dutton was one of those rare birds, a good pitcher and a good man with the stick. That is, he had been, and now he was beginning to come back to himself.
There was a shadow of gloom over Pittston when they lost the second game, after having won the first against such odds, and there was much speculation as to how the other two contests would go.
Gregory revised his batting order for the third game, and sent in his latest purchase, one of the south-paws, to do the twirling. But he soon made a change in pitchers, and called on Tooley, who also was a left-hander.
“I may need you later, Joe,” he said as he arranged to send in a “pinch” hitter at a critical moment. “Don’t think that I’m slighting you, boy.”
“I don’t. I understand.”
“How’s your fade-away?”
“All right, I guess.”