“Fifteen to three,” he got out at last. Joe’s face lengthened.
“That was a massacre sure enough,” he groaned. “The biggest score any team has rolled up against us this season. Who went in after I was taken out?”
“Markwith,” answered Jim. “But he couldn’t do a thing with them. They simply slammed him to all corners of the lot. But by that time the game was gone anyway, and McRae just let him stay in and take his medicine.”
“And how did the Chicagos make out today?” asked Joe.
“They trimmed the Pittsburghs, four to three,” replied Jim. “Those fellows seem to have taken a new lease of life. A little while ago we were ten games ahead of them. Now they’re only six games behind and coming fast.”
“Their pitchers are working well too,” commented Joe. “You notice that they’re holding down their opponents to mighty small scores and they’re handing out quite a few shut-outs. We’ve got our work cut out for us if we want to beat those birds.”
“And we’ll have to do it in a hurry, too,” said Jim. “The season’s pretty near an end. It’s a case of now or never.”