Yet he did not like to take Langridge out. Captain Woodhouse was angry clear through, and as for Kerr, he openly insulted the pitcher.
“What’s the matter?” the catcher cried after a particularly bad series of balls and a fumble on the part of Langridge that let in a run. “You’re rotten to-day!”
Langridge flushed, but his face had been rosy-hued before that, and twice he had gone to the dressing rooms, whence he came odorous of cloves.
Then the “rooters” seeing their game took up cries of derision against the pitcher, in an endeavor to “get his goat.”
Langridge bit his lips and threw in a fierce ball. There were two out, but it looked as if it would go on that way indefinitely. Frank Sullivan, a good batter, hit it fairly, but Joe Jackson, out in left field, made a desperate run for it, and got the ball. It was a sensational catch, and was roundly applauded.
When Randall came to the bat for the last time the score was 12 to 2 in favor of their opponents.
“We can’t win,” said Kindlings hopelessly.
“No, but for the love of Mike, don’t let them roll up any bigger score against us, or they’ll put us out of the league,” begged Bricktop Molloy. “Speak to Langridge, and tell him to hold hard.”
“What’s the use speaking to him?” asked Kerr gloomily. “He’ll go off his handle if I do. He told me never to speak to him again, just because I called him down a bit. Land knows he needed it!”
“We’ve got to make a change,” decided the coach. “I’ll not let Langridge pitch next inning. If he does I’ll resign, and I’ll tell him so.”