It was all very well to feel confident of a victory for the Blue when you were back there in Yardley with the Yardley cheers ringing in your ears, but it was rather more difficult now, when almost every person waved a Broadwood flag or wore a knot of green and when one was literally within the enemy’s camp. This was the thought that came to Gerald as he followed his father and Harry while they worked their way through the crowd about the tiny grand-stand and finally found seats on that structure. Accommodations there were at a premium, for the stand afforded the only shade about the diamond and was so small that only Faculty members, parents, friends, and students accompanying them were admitted. The rest of the spectators lined the field behind the ropes stretched along the first and third base lines, or perched themselves upon the roof and in the windows of the laboratory building which stood nearby. Broadwood’s field adjoined the campus, and from the stand one could look down a long slope of meadow and farm land for almost a mile.
Gerald confided his doubts to Harry when they had finally squeezed themselves into their seats high up under the sloping roof, but Harry had of a sudden changed from a pessimist to an optimist regarding Yardley’s chances.
“Don’t you worry,” he replied excitedly. “We’ll trim ’em for fair. Here comes Yardley now!”
The blue-stockinged team, some twenty strong, came trotting down from the gymnasium, pushed through the crowd about the ropes, hurdled over or ducked under them, and went to their bench at the right of the plate. The bench, with its little strip of gay awning above, was in full view of the stand and Gerald and Harry amused themselves with comments on the appearances of the players.
“There’s Millener,” said Harry. “Doesn’t he look great in his uniform?” Gerald admitted that he did, but insisted that Colton looked finer.
“Look at Danforth!” said Gerald a moment later. “He hasn’t got his uniform on! I’ll bet he isn’t going to play!”
“He’s sick, that’s what’s the matter with him,” responded Harry bitterly. “Look at him. He looks like a sheet of paper. Isn’t that the toughest luck you ever saw? Why, he’s one of our best players; we haven’t got anyone else can play second like Danforth!”
“Who’ll they use?” asked Gerald anxiously.
“Tufts, I guess; he’s the regular sub. But he isn’t any good. We’ll find out in a minute, though, for they’re going out to practice.” Gerald turned to acquaint his father with the heart-breaking news, but Mr. Pennimore had discovered an acquaintance in the lady at his other side and was busily engaged in conversation. Then the team trotted out for practice, and Gerald, discovering Dan amongst the players, held his breath until the youth had taken his position at second. Then he turned radiantly to Harry. But Harry had seen for himself, and their exclamations of wonderment and delight exploded together.