CHAPTER VIII
AT PRACTICE
Following the exciting scenes of the pole rush it was rather difficultfor any of the lads to settle down to study that night, but for some itwas a necessity, and Tom and Sid were in this number. Tom, by reason ofmissing the first week of the term, was a little behind his class, buthe was a fine student, and the instructor saw that there would be notrouble for the lad in covering the lost ground. With Sid it was anothermatter. Though faithful and earnest, studying did not come easy for him,and, as he expressed it, he had to "bone away like a ground hog" to getfacts and dates fixed in his mind. Consequently, because of the eveningof fun, ten o'clock saw Sid and Tom busy in their room over their books.
For an hour or more nothing was heard but the occasional turning of thepages or the noise of a pencil being rapidly pushed across the paper. Atlength Tom, with a sigh of relief, closed his chemistry and remarked:
"There, I guess that will do for to-night. My eyes are tired."
"So are mine," added Sid. "I'm going to kiss this Latin prose good-nightand put it to bed," and he threw the book under his cot. "Pleasantdreams," he added sarcastically. "Gee! but I hate Latin," he exclaimed.
"Why do you take it?"
"Oh, dad thinks I'll need it. I'd a heap sight rather learn to play thebanjo."
"Not much comparison there, Sid."
"No, but don't mention comparison. That reminds me of grammar, andgrammar reminds me of verbs, and verbs naturally bring to minddeclension, and--there you are. Let's talk about something pleasant."
"What do you call pleasant?"
"Well, baseball, for instance, though maybe that isn't very pleasant foryou, since you didn't make the first team."
"No," admitted Tom frankly, "it isn't pleasant to think about. I didwant to get on the first team and I may yet. But I've learned one thingsince coming here."
"That's good. Maybe I'd better call up Moses and tell him. He'll feelencouraged that some of the students are progressing."
"No, I wouldn't advise you to do that," spoke Tom with a laugh thatshowed his white, even teeth. "In fact, what I've learned didn't havemuch to do with books."
"What was it?"
"Well, it's been made very clear to me that it's something differentfrom being a big fish in a little puddle than acting the part of asmall-sized finny resident in a more extended body of water, to put itscientifically."
"Meaning what, if you don't mind translating?" came from Sid as hestretched out on the rather worn and springless sofa.
"Meaning that I had an idea that I was about as good as the next one inthe pitching line, but I find I'm not."
"Proceed," came calmly from Sid, who had his eyes shut.
"No, I'm afraid I might disturb your slumbers," said Tom quickly, andthere was a curious change in his voice.
Sid sat up quickly.
"I beg your pardon, old man," he exclaimed. "I was listening all rightand I'm interested, honest I am. Only my eyes hurt to-night. But it mustbe quite different, coming from a small village to a fairly largecollege. Did you have a good nine at Northville?"
"Well," went on Tom, somewhat mollified at his chum's interest, "wecleaned up all the other nines around there. I was considered acrackajack pitcher, but I guess now the reason for that may have beenthat the others were rotten batsmen."
"There's something in that," admitted Sid judicially. "You see, thingsare peculiar here. Now take Langridge. Nobody, unless it's Kerr and a fewothers, cares much about him. Yet he's a fairly consistent pitcher, andhe's the best they've had in some years, they tell me. Now our collegehas had rather hard luck on the diamond, especially in the Tonoka LakeLeague. There was a better chance of winning the championship last yearthan in any previous one, but we didn't make good. It wasn't altogetherLangridge's fault. He didn't have very good support, I'm told. Nowthey've decided to keep him on, or, rather he's engineered things sothat, as manager, he keeps himself on. And there are some hopes ofpulling out somewhere in the lead of the league this season. ButLangridge is his own best friend."
"And he keeps me from pitching on the 'varsity," said Tom somewhatbitterly.
"Can you blame him?"
"No, I don't know that I can," was the frank answer. "I s'pose I'd dothe same thing. But I hope in time to be a better pitcher than he is."
"How are you coming on with the coach?"
"Fine. Mr. Lighton has given me some good pointers, and I needed them.My curves are all right and so is my speed. It's my control that'sweak, and I'm getting rid of some of my faults."
"We're going to have a practice game with you scrubs to-morrow or nextday," said Sid. "Maybe you'll get a chance to show what you can dothen."
"I hope so. I want to show Langridge that he isn't the only bean in thepot, to put it poetically."
"Very poetically," murmured Sid, who seemed to be dozing off.
"Say, Sid," exclaimed Tom suddenly, "do you remember what you started tosay about Langridge the other day and stopped?"
"Yes."
"What was it?"
"I'd rather not tell. You'll probably find out for yourself before long.I did, though not many know it."
"You mean----"
"I'm not going to say what I mean. Only," and Sid suddenly sat up, "itmay 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 thenext afternoon. The first team was in rather disorganized shape yet.That is to say, not all the players were in permanent positions andshifts were likely to be made at any time as practice brought outdefects or merits. It was even said that some now on the 'varsity mightbe relegated to the scrub and some from the second team advanced. Tomsecretly hoped so in his case, but his common sense told him he stood aslim chance. Langridge, of course, was pitcher on the first team andKerr was the catcher. Kindlings Woodhouse played on third, where hecould direct the efforts of his men.
When the scrub and regular teams were out on the diamond ready for thepractice game Kindlings looked over his players.
"Where's Sid Henderson?" he asked.
"He got turned back in Latin at last class," volunteered Jerry Jackson.
"Here he comes now," added Joe Jackson, as if he was an echo to hisbrother.
Sid came running up, all out of breath, buttoning his blouse as headvanced.
"What's the matter, son?" asked the captain.
"That rotten Latin."
"Be careful," warned Kindlings. "Don't slump too often or you may put usin a hole. You aren't the only first baseman that ever lived, but you'repretty good, and I don't want to go to work training you in and have youfired off the team by the faculty for not keeping up your studies."
"Oh, I'll be careful," promised Sid confidently, and then the gamestarted.
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'reonly four runs ahead of us, and if we can knock out a couple ofthree-baggers we'll throw a scare into them. They're weak in right andleft field. Soak the horsehide toward either of the twins, but don't getit near Phil Clinton. If he gets it within a foot of his mitt, it's agoner."
"It's a wonder you wouldn't strike out more men," said Fenton. "My unclesays 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 diedon third, though the score was bettered in favor of the scrub by twomore runs.
Tom went to his box with a firm step and a more certain feeling abouthis ability than he had ever experienced before. He was sure he couldstrike out at least two men, and he did so, including Langridge andHolly 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 missit."
"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.
Tom gave one man a chance to walk and the next popped out a fly thatDutch Housenlager neatly gathered in. The game ended with no runs forthe 'varsity in the last inning and they had beaten the scrub by onlytwo runs.
"It might be worse," said Mr. Lighton grimly as the teams filed off thediamond. "It might be worse, Woodhouse, but I don't like it."
"Neither do I," admitted the captain gloomily. "We tackle Boxer Hall inthe first of the league series next week, and I think I'll have to makesome more shifts. What do you think of Langridge?"
"Well, he's all right--yet. If he doesn't----" The coach stoppedsuddenly, seemed about to say something and then evidently thoughtbetter of it. "At any rate," he finished, "if worst comes to worst, wecan put Parsons in. He's improving every day, and with a little morecoaching so that he isn't quite so awkward and can run better, he'llmake a star player. He'll be on the first team next year."
"He wants to get on this year."
"Perhaps he will," and with that the coach walked off rather abruptly.