"Put him off, conductor!" bawled Benny Wilkins. "He's been rude to the nine."
"If things don't go better I'll be ruder yet," said "Crackers."
When the car swung into the depot the crowd seemed to melt away on the instant, leaving the rather gloomy-looking members of the nine to make their way to the gymnasium alone. Even Phelps seemed to consider it no longer an honor to burden himself with bats, balls and other articles.
"I can't understand it," growled Tom Clifton. "Just think, Dave—seven to three!"
"Oh ho! We can't win every time, Tom," returned Dave, dryly.
"Cut out any gloomy talk, fellows," advised Coach Steele, earnestly. "Be good losers. Let each defeat make you only grit your teeth and plunge in all the harder."
"That's the talk!" cried Blake, brightening up. "We'll do it."
As the days followed each other, Steele's earnest efforts served to put new life and vigor into the team. The Somersites stuck manfully to the nine. Any set of boys who could inaugurate a new era in the athletic affairs of the High were not going to be deserted simply because they had begun the season by losing a couple of games.
Even their ardor and enthusiasm, however, received a rude jolt when the school nine and the Stars again clashed. The score, six to one, told the story of an event which helped to make history for the High. Only those who didn't favor Bob Somers and his crowd cared to talk about it.
They were willing to admit the nine had made some brilliant plays, but pointed out the fact that these same brilliant plays were always on the defensive. They said, too, that when Blake got rattled he was badly rattled; and, according to the way "Crackers" summed up the situation, when the bases were full "Jack Frost" was likely to fall down harder than a chimney in a gale of wind.