"That's when the 'Hopes' got blasted.
"Since then the Rambler Club's ball nine—I've ordered the editor not to cut out the name—has been going from victory to victory in exactly the same manner they were boasting about before any playing was done.
"You can't blame a lot of fellows for making a great blow when they have the goods in the shop. They had just been mislaid, and not even the manager could find them.
"But the excitement during the search was something awful. The writer's efforts to be on both sides at the same time nearly ruined his nervous system. He found himself, at times, delivering punches impartially to either side.
"We will now speak of a little tussle between Bob Somers' Bear Cats and Dan Brown's 'Hopes.'
"It was certainly the greatest ball game ever played—in Kingswood. Thousands upon thousands of spectators were on the field—anyway, the figure runs up to a good many hundred—but that doesn't look well in print. For eleven innings they fought in a most desperate fashion, both sides winning by the score of three to three—because, if neither side actually won the game, each won a lot of praise for staving off defeat. Three more games have to be played, and a few mean people are pained to think that an admission fee can't be charged.
"The writer has said as many nice things about the team as he can, hoping to get on the good side of the editor. That scribe doesn't write so much better himself.
"Another thing I must mention: No team has been able to beat the Stars with Tony Tippen in the box. The 'Hopes' have tried it twice; and each time it was dangerous to speak to Owen Lawrence for at least two hours after a certain little row of ciphers had been chalked down in the run column. Tippen is a pippin.
"Coming back to the Kingswood High: The writer can almost picture in his mind a nice level field with a grand stand and crowds of spectators watching a game.
"May this be no trick of the imagination!"