The Rover Boys on Sunset Trail: The Old Miner's Mysterious Message

“Some baseball game, if you ask me!” exclaimed Andy Rover, as he threw his cap high into the air in satisfaction.

“Jack had the whole bunch from Longley guessing from the start,” added Andy’s twin brother, Randy Rover.

“What got me was the way Tommy Flanders was batted out of the box in that fatal sixth inning,” put in Captain Fred Rover. “It was worse than the time we batted him out before,” and he grinned broadly.

“You mustn’t give me too much credit for winning that game,” came modestly from Major Rover, as he smiled at his cousins and the other cadets of Colby Hall who were with him, all togged out in their natty baseball uniforms. “Remember, I made only one of the eleven runs we got. Fred made two and so did Dan, while Gif brought in three.”

“Of course we all helped, Jack,” returned Gif Garrison, the captain of the Colby Hall nine. “But what counts big with us is that you held Longley down to a sum total of one big goose egg. Wow! that’s enough to keep them off the diamond for a year or two.”

“And I hope it does,” came from Spouter Powell, who had gone with the team as a substitute. “Remember, our team has got to be thoroughly reorganized next season, with Jack and Fred and Gif dropping out.”

“It’s a good thing that Colonel Colby didn’t enforce that rule he was going to put through of keeping officers out of athletic contests. If he had done that, we’d have been minus Jack and Fred for this game.”

“Gosh! how I’m going to miss old Colby Hall,” sighed Fred Rover. “At first I thought graduating and getting away was going to be fine. But when I think of what we’re going to miss in baseball and football and in the gymnasium and on the campus—well, I’m not so sure,” and his face clouded.

“Oh, well, we can’t be cadets and schoolboys all our lives,” consoled his cousin Jack. “Just the same, I’ll hate to give up baseball, and I’ll hate to give up being major of the school battalion, too.”

“How the Longley Academy fellows hated to see that silver trophy going to us,” put in Phil Franklin, who had gone along as scorer. “Some of the fellows looked as black as a thundercloud when the committee wrapped it up in that cloth and turned it over to Gif.”

“Well, I guess the fellows from Hixley High and Columbus Academy felt just as bad,” came from Spouter Powell. For the trophy was one which had been fought for by four of the schools on and in the vicinity of the lake.