“Scotty, I'll never eat again,” replied Ken.
There were quick steps upon the stairs and Worry burst in, rustling a newspaper.
“Hello, old man!” he called, cheerily. “Say! Look at this!”
He thrust the paper before Ken's eyes and pointed to a column:
Place Beat Wayne by a Lucky Drive.
Young Ward Pitched the Greatest Game Ever
Pitched on Place Field and Lost It in the Ninth,
with Two Men Out and Three and Two on MacNeff.
Ken's dull, gloom-steeped mind underwent a change, but he could not speak. He sat up in bed, clutching the paper, and gazing from it to the coach. Raymond came in, followed by Homans, and, last, Reddy Ray, who sat down upon the bed. They were all smiling, and that seemed horrible to Ken.
“But, Worry—Reddy—I—I lost the game—threw it away!” faltered Ken.