"I?" gasped Hooker, startled. "I didn't say anything."
"I thought you did. I thought I heard you mutter something about Sanger. That fellow has developed, hasn't he? But we'll get onto him yet. When these strike-out twirlers go to pieces, they're liable to blow up completely. The boys will pound him before the game is over."
"I hope they do," fabricated Roy.
"If Springer only keeps steady," continued his seatmate, "it will be all right; but I'm just a little bit afraid of Phil, for he lacks the heart to stand punishment. If they get to hitting him—well, Eliot will have to try Grant."
"Grant's no pitcher," said Roy.
"I don't know about that. He hasn't had any experience, that's true; but Springer himself has said that Rod's got the makings of one. Wasn't that a corking catch he made?"
"It was lucky for Springer."
Larkins was now up, and he proceeded to wallop the second ball pitched to him, driving it humming down the third-base line for two sacks, which caused the horns and cowbells to break into a tumultuous uproar. Sanger followed, and he straightened out a bender into a whistling line drive to the left of Chipper Cooper; whereupon Cooper made up for his error in the first inning by forking the sphere with his gloved hand and snapping it to Nelson, who leaped on to second and caught Larkins lunging hopelessly back for the sack.
The horns and cowbells were suddenly silent, while the sympathizers with the crimson frantically cheered this beautiful double play.
"Great, Chipper—simply great!" cried Springer as soon as he could get his breath.