Nor was Fairview’s playing anything to boast of, aside from the work of the battery. It was just one of those occasions when both teams seem to go stale, and probably on the part of Randall the prank of the night before, which kept several members of the team up late, had not a little to do with it. Sufficient to say, that though Tom managed to whip his men into some kind of shape for the last three innings it was too late, and they went down to defeat by a score of 3 to 10.
“And the girls watching us, too!” groaned Phil, as they were changing their clothes after the game.
“Are you going to see them when we get washed up?” asked Sid eagerly.
“I don’t feel much like it,” grumbled Tom, but, somehow, he and Phil did manage to gravitate to where Madge Tyler and Ruth Clinton were standing. Sid followed at a discreet distance, but when he saw Miss Harrison strolling about the grounds with Langridge, the second baseman took a trolley car for home.
Tom and Sid had to stand considerable chaffing on the part of their two pretty companions, but they didn’t mind so much, and Tom declared that his team was only practicing, and would eventually win the championship, and the gold loving cup.
“Oh, by the way,” remarked Phil, at parting, “Ruth, don’t you and Miss Tyler want to come to our doings next week?”
“What doings?” asked his sister. “See you defeated at baseball again, or go to a fraternity dance?”
“Something on the order of the latter,” replied her brother, making a wry face. “The sophs are going to have a little picnic on Crest Island, in Tonoka Lake, next Wednesday, and it will be one swell affair. Regular old-fashioned picnic—basket lunches, ants in the butter, snakes under the leaves, and all that. Holly Cross thought it up, and it’s great!”
“What a wonderful brain he must have,” said Miss Tyler, with a delicious laugh. “But it sounds nice. What do you say, Ruth? Shall we go?”