“That settles that,” groaned the captain of the Crimson nine as the long fly settled gracefully into the hands of the Blue’s left-fielder. The runner who, at the sound of bat meeting ball, had shot away from second base, slowed his pace and dropped his head disconsolately as he left the path to the plate and turned toward the bench. “Come on, fellows,” said the captain cheerfully. “We’ve got to hold ’em tight. Not a man sees first, Tom; don’t lose ’em.”…
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