“That’s what,” murmured George Rankin, and, perhaps involuntarily, he glanced at Sam.
“Oh, I know what you fellows mean without you saying so!” snapped the pitcher. “I wish you’d keep your remarks to yourselves. I can pitch all right.”
“No one said you couldn’t,” declared Darrell gently.
But it was very little that the Silver Stars could accomplish. Two men went down to inglorious defeat. The third knocked a nice single but died on first when the Red pitcher with seeming ease struck out the fourth batter. And it was not due so much that the visiting boxman had speed or curves, as to the fact that he could fool the batters with easy balls.
“We seem to have struck a hoodoo,” said Darrell in despairing tones as they took the field again. “Sam, our only hope is in you. Not a run for us this inning and they got two.”
“They won’t get any more!” declared Sam savagely.
He made good his boast, for not a man got beyond second, and of those who performed this feat there was but one. A big circle went up in the Red’s frame for the ending of the first half of the seventh inning.
But the Silver Stars fared no better, and for the next inning the result was the same, neither side being able to score. The tally was three runs to two in favor of the visitors when the ninth inning opened.
The Silver Stars didn’t like to think of that inning afterward. There were numerous errors, wild throws and muffs. Joe let a ball slip through his fingers when by holding it he might have prevented a run, but it happened to hit on the cut place, and the agony was such that he let out an exclamation of pain.