First call for baseball material at Pennington Institute brought out a strange and interesting group of boys all eager to make the team. They ranged all the way from sub-freshmen and members of the junior high school to seniors and members of last year’s squad. They presented a weird sight too, for the call had emphasized the fact that there were no uniforms available that early in the season and that each candidate would be expected to furnish his own clothes.
The result was a motley array of baseball clothing, some of it strange enough to make a seasoned player split his sides with laughter. Some of the sub-freshmen and junior school candidates appeared with trousers that were miles too large and shirts that had to be rolled to elbow length in order to give their hands the necessary freedom. They wore caps of various periods of baseball history, and one chap appeared in football pants and jersey as a fitting substitute for a real uniform.
There were many among the group, however, who wore the regulation uniform of the school, buff trousers and shirt with blue under jerseys and buff and blue striped stockings. They were the members of last year’s squad of regulars and substitutes who had not been graduated.
Among the latter was Gould. He wore the uniform of the junior team of the year before on which he had played third base, and he assumed an attitude of strutting importance as he elbowed his way through the crowd of students onto the gym. floor. It was very evident that he felt himself very much a part of the little group of last year’s veterans who would compose the foundation and main support upon which Coach Rice hoped to build a winning team this year.
Jeff Thatcher appeared with the first call for candidates and he wore a snappy gray and blue uniform of the New City Y. M. C. A. team, the state championship “Y” team of the year before. His appearance in this outfit made a distinct impression among the younger candidates on the floor. It made an impression on Gould, too, who for a moment, upon seeing him, appeared surprised. But he passed this off with a remark to one of the older players, which Jeff could not help but hear, to the effect that:
“Our young million dollar bond hero is all dressed up with no place to go.”
But it happened that Buck Hart was within hearing distance and he turned on Gould with a sharp retort:
“Don’t you worry about his not having any place to go. He’s going after the job of third base and believe me, there’s one fresh young Soph who will know all about how fast he’s going.”
And Gould, not having courage enough to talk back to Hart, who was one of the best athletes in the school, discreetly turned his back and sauntered over to inspect the batter’s cage.
Coach Rice called the fellows to order and lined them up the long way of the gym. floor.
“My, what a whale of a lot of candidates,” he exclaimed as he counted them and looked them over. “Too big a crowd for me to handle in here. Guess some of you fellows will have to wait until I call for outdoor practice. For the present I am going to take all of your names. Then I’m going to ask only the old fellows and a few of the others to report in the gym. The rest of you will have to wait until outdoor practice begins.”
A wave of disappointed groans went up and down the line and Mr. Rice smiled.
“Sorry. Wish I could push the four walls of the gym. out far enough to accommodate all of you. Then we’d all be happy. Mr. Clarkson, will you take their names?”
Mr. Clarkson was the assistant coach in charge of the scrub team and as he went down the line taking the name of each boy he questioned them as to their previous playing experience.
When he came to Jeff he looked at the New City Y. M. C. A. insignia on his shirt and asked:
“Did you play with the New City ‘Y’ team last year?”
“Yes, sir. Third base,” said Jeff.
“Good,” he exclaimed. “We’ll need a third baseman this year. But you’ll have to work hard for the job. Wish you luck.”
“Thank you,” said Jeff cheerfully.
Finished with the list, he and Mr. Rice went into conference over it for a few minutes, then the head coach, the list in his hand, walked to the floor and announced:
“I want only the following boys to report here every afternoon for indoor practice. The rest of you, I am sorry to say, will have to wait until the outdoor practice begins, which I hope will be about the tenth of April. But cheer up, fellows, that’s only a little more than three weeks away. These fellows remain—the rest are dismissed for the time being—Blackwell, Stone, Daily, Wiggins, Hart, Gordon, Simmons, Gammage, Sloan, Hecht, Stafford, Runyon, Daws, Gleason, Dixon and Gould. That’s all—er—no—you, too, Thatcher, you stay, please. That’s all.”
Coach Rice paused so perceptibly after Gould’s name that Jeff Thatcher’s heart sank. For a moment he felt that he was going to be denied the privilege of getting the indoor training with the candidates, which he knew was of the utmost importance to men who would have to fight for positions on the team.
Coach Rice had read off the names of all of the older men on the squad,—the men who had been out for the team the year before, and had not intended to add any more new material to the indoor squad. Thatcher was evidently an after thought and Jeff realized that his “Y” uniform and the record his team had made the summer before were entirely responsible for the addition of his name to the list. Evidently Coach Rice expected something of him or he would not have been willing to make him a member of his already large group of indoor candidates.
And as Jeff walked over to join the squad of former players who gathered at one end of the gym. while the rest of the boys disconsolately filed out-of-doors or climbed into the running track balcony to watch the start of indoor training, he wondered vaguely whether he was going to be able to justify the confidence that his uniform had inspired in the veteran coach of the Pennington squad.
Mentally he resolved to do his utmost to make the team, and as he made the resolution he could not help but glance toward Gould, whom he detected looking at him with an unpleasant expression on his dark countenance.