"It was lack of control," he finally exclaimed. "That's just it. He was pitching all right until they broke his nerve by three hits in succession. After that he couldn't find the pan to save his life. If he'd been able to put the ball where he wished and steady down a little, he might have stopped that batting rally and had the satisfaction of pitching the game through to a successful finish. Now, Rod Grant gets all the glory." He was still sitting there, obsessed by his dismal meditations, when a shadow appeared in the doorway, and he looked up to see Rackliff, the stub of a cigarette in his fingers, gazing at him. For a full minute, perhaps, neither boy spoke; and then Herbert, tossing the smoking stub over his shoulder, sunk his hands deep in his pockets and uttered two words: "Hard luck." "Rotten," said Roy. "But you certainly were all to the punk in your judgment about that game." "Oh, I don't know," objected Herbert, leaning against the side of the doorway and crossing his tan-shod feet. "Barville should have won." "How do you make that out?" "They batted Springer out, didn't they? They sent him to the stable, all right." "He lost his control, and Eliot had to take him out." "Well, if you hadn't been mistaken in your judgment, that would have settled the game." "If _I_ hadn't been mistaken!" cried Roy resentfully. "Precisely." "Why, I don't see----" "Don't you? Then you should consult an oculist. You said Springer was the only pitcher the team had; you insisted that Grant couldn't pitch a winning game." "Well, I know," faltered Roy; "but I----" "You were mistaken--sadly mistaken. It's been an expensive blunder in judgment for both of us." A flush rose into Hooker's pale cheeks, and he stood up. "Now, look here, Mr. Rackliff," he said harshly, "don't you try to shoulder it all on to me. I won't stand for that. You professed to be dead sure that under any circumstances Barville could down Oakdale. As to the matter of expense, it may have been expensive for you', but, according to our distinctly understood agreement, I don't lose anything." Herbert lifted his eyebrows slightly, producing his cigarette case and fumbling in it vainly, as it was empty. "Agreement?" he said. "What agreement?" Hooker choked. "You know; don't pretend that you don't know. I hope you're not going back on your word. If you do----" He stopped, unable to continue. "Oh, yes," said Herbert slowly, "I think I know what you mean. Of course I'm not going back on my word to a pal." "Then give me the money I let you have to bet on Barville." "Why, that money's gone. We lost it." "Yes, but you pledged yourself to make good any loss I might sustain. There are reasons why I must have that money back--right away, too." "I'm sorry," murmured Herbert, regretfully returning the empty cigarette case to his pocket; "but I'm afraid you'll have to wait a while. I went broke myself--haven't got a whole dollar left in the exchequer."