Coach Lighton shook his head dubiously as he saw the Randall boys stream out on the diamond for practice.
“I hope Cross will appreciate the seriousness of the matter,” he said. “He can’t begin to touch Kerr at catching, yet he’s the best one we can put in.”
“Yes,” agreed Kindlings. “But maybe we’ll make out. I hope so.”
Kerr was as nervous as a girl at not being able to play. He paced up and down the coaching lines until Kindlings, fearing he would disconcert the team, sent him to the grandstand, where Tom had already gone.
Well, that game with Fairview is ancient history now. Sufficient to say that after a good beginning, when they gathered three runs the first inning and held their opponents down to a goose egg, principally through the pitching of Langridge, the Randall lads went to pieces and the Fairviews ran away with them. Langridge was finally fairly batted out of the box and the final score was 16 to 4 in favor of the co-educational institution.
It was a sorely disappointed nine that filed off the diamond, nor could the generous cheers of the victors apply any balm to the wounds.
“Such pitching!” grumbled Phil as he was in the dressing-room. “That lost us the game as much as anything else. Langridge didn’t seem to be in form.”
The pitcher overheard him.
“I say, Clinton,” he called out sneeringly, “you mind your own affairs. I train as good as you, and I didn’t miss a fly that came right into my hands,” for Phil had thus offended, letting in a run.
“I’ve seen you pitch better,” spoke Sid quietly, for he and several others were “sore” at Langridge, who plainly enough had not been in his usual good form.