Part 14 (1/2)

”I'm not going to say what I mean. Only,” and Sid suddenly sat up, ”it may increase your chances of pitching on the 'varsity.”

”I think I know,” said Tom slowly, and he began to get ready for bed.

A practice game between the 'varsity and the scrub was called for the next afternoon. The first team was in rather disorganized shape yet.

That is to say, not all the players were in permanent positions and s.h.i.+fts were likely to be made at any time as practice brought out defects or merits. It was even said that some now on the 'varsity might be relegated to the scrub and some from the second team advanced. Tom secretly hoped so in his case, but his common sense told him he stood a slim chance. Langridge, of course, was pitcher on the first team and Kerr was the catcher. Kindlings Woodhouse played on third, where he could direct the efforts of his men.

When the scrub and regular teams were out on the diamond ready for the practice game Kindlings looked over his players.

”Where's Sid Henderson?” he asked.

”He got turned back in Latin at last cla.s.s,” volunteered Jerry Jackson.

”Here he comes now,” added Joe Jackson, as if he was an echo to his brother.

Sid came running up, all out of breath, b.u.t.toning his blouse as he advanced.

”What's the matter, son?” asked the captain.

”That rotten Latin.”

”Be careful,” warned Kindlings. ”Don't slump too often or you may put us in a hole. You aren't the only first baseman that ever lived, but you're pretty good, and I don't want to go to work training you in and have you fired off the team by the faculty for not keeping up your studies.”

”Oh, I'll be careful,” promised Sid confidently, and then the game started.

The 'varsity played snappy ball and the scrub seemed a bit ragged, naturally perhaps as there was less incentive for them to play hard.

”Brace up, fellows,” implored Tom toward the close of the game. ”They're only four runs ahead of us, and if we can knock out a couple of three-baggers we'll throw a scare into them. They're weak in right and left field. Soak the horsehide toward either of the twins, but don't get it near Phil Clinton. If he gets it within a foot of his mitt, it's a goner.”

”It's a wonder you wouldn't strike out more men,” said Fenton. ”My uncle says that when he was a coach----”

”Play ball!” yelled the umpire, and the reminiscence was cut short.

The scrubs did ”take a brace” and began finding the curves of Langridge, much to that pitcher's annoyance. Tom made a neat two-bagger, but died on third, though the score was bettered in favor of the scrub by two more runs.

Tom went to his box with a firm step and a more certain feeling about his ability than he had ever experienced before. He was sure he could strike out at least two men, and he did so, including Langridge and Holly Cross.

Holly, who was a good batter, was laughed at by his chums.

”You'll have to do better than that,” warned Langridge.

”Do better yourself,” retorted Holly. ”I didn't want to hit it, anyhow.

I was giving you an imitation of how close I could come to it and miss it.”

”Those imitations don't do on this circuit,” added the tall Kindlings.

”It's mighty risky in a game.”

”Oh, yes, in a game,” admitted Holly with a laugh.