“Now, Randall, do ’em up! Wallop ’em!” shouted a tall dignified man, accompanied by two pretty girls who sat well down in front on the center grand stand. “Eat ’em alive! Eat ’em alive!”
“Oh, papa!” cried one pretty girl, clasping his left arm.
“Oh, papa!” exclaimed the other pretty girl, seizing his right arm.
“That’s all right, my dears,” he answered. “Don’t you suppose I want to see my old college win? And they will, too! Those boys have grit!”
“Yes, but they’re short one of their best players,” said a man next to the “old grad,” and he told about Sid, for that was common knowledge now.
A goose egg went up in the Boxer frame that inning, and Tom looked happier. But, try as his men did in their share of the third, nothing resulted, though Woodhouse laid out a pretty liner, which was caught, after a run, by Sam Burton. Then came the heart-breaking last of the third, when three runs were added to Boxer’s score.
“Go on back home!” yelled some Boxer enthusiast at the Randall team. “You can’t play ball! Go back!”
“Not until we have your scalps!” declared Bean Perkins vindictively.
Seated together on the middle grand stand, Madge Tyler, Mabel Harrison and Ruth Clinton looked at each other.