Some one started the Randall college song, “Aut vincere aut mori,” and as the beautiful strains floated over the diamond when the players poured out from the dressing-rooms the team came to a sudden halt.
“That’s it, fellows,” said Kindlings solemnly, “‘Either we conquer or we die!’ Play for all that’s in you and then some more,” and he laughed.
Auto horns tooted blatantly, girls cried in their clear, shrill voices, the lady contingent of Fairview rendering some weird yells. Then there were the hoarse voices of the boys, to which answered the cheers of Randall. The grandstand and bleachers were waving geometrical figures of brilliant hues. It was an inspiring sight. No wonder that the players felt nerved to do their best, for on the result of the game depended much.
Kindlings missed the call when the coin was spun, and he and his men had to start the hitting. But they did not mind this, and when, in the revised batting order, Kerr went up first, he “poked his stick into the horsehide for a two-bagger,” as Holly Cross said. There was a yell that could have been heard a mile and every Randall lad was on his feet shouting:
“Go on! go on! go on!”
But Kerr stopped at second prudently, for he would have been nabbed at third. This opened the game and the play at once became hot. Randall scored two runs that inning and Tom, giving walking papers to a particularly heavy hitter, managed to come out of the initial ordeal without a hit being registered against him.
The Randall boys went wild then and began the song, “When Fairview awoke from her sweet dream of peace,” which was repeated again and again.
But the next three innings saw only the negative sign chalked up in the frame on the scoreboard given over to Randall, while in the last half of the fourth Fairview secured a run, for one of the players “got the Indian sign” on Tom, to quote Holly Cross, who was an expert in diamond slang, and “bit his initials in the spheroid for a three-bagger.” The run would not have been scored, for there were two men out, only Joe Jackson made what seemed to be an inexcusable fumble, and the runner came in. Still it looked safe for Randall until the fatal seventh inning.
For some teams this is held to be a lucky one, but it was not for Randall. Tom was doing his best, but in delivering one ball he gave his arm a peculiar wrench, and a sharp twinge of pain in the region where Langridge had kicked him made him wince. After that he could not control his curves so well, and three men made safeties off him, a trio of runs being registered. The score was 4 to 2 in favor of Fairview at the close of the seventh. Kindlings looked grave and Coach Lighton paced nervously to and fro.
“What’s the matter, old man?” the captain asked Tom.