“A short cheer for Eaton, fellows, and make it good!”
It was good, and as the freshman captain faced the Blue’s pitcher the cheer swept across to him and sent a thrill along his spine. Perhaps he needed it, for there is no denying that he was feeling pretty nervous, although he succeeded in disguising that fact from either catcher or pitcher.
Up in the cheering section there was joy among the group of freshmen.
“Look who’s here!” shrieked Chick. “It’s Chub!”
“Chub Eaton!” cried another. “What do you think of that?”
“Batting for Pritchett! Say, can he bat much, Roy?”
“Yes; but I don’t know what he can do against this fellow. He hasn’t been in a game since they took him on. But I guess the coach knows he can run the bases. If he gets to first I’ll bet he’ll steal the rest!”
And then the cheer came, and the way those classmates of Chub’s worked their lungs was a caution.
In the last inning of a game it is customary to
