"I don't know yet—probably McPherson. He's been two years on the nine, and after that bully game he put up on Saturday, he deserves it."
"The fellows were saying it would be McPherson," said Simmons, looking up into Rob's face with an expression of keen regret. "I was hoping you'd get it. You know so much about the game, and have helped them all so."
Rob flushed. The suggestion touched him in a sensitive spot. "Nonsense!" he retorted sharply. "What put that idea into your head? I'm no better than any one else. For heaven's sake don't suggest that to any one outside; they'd think it came from me."
On his way over to the baseball meeting that afternoon Rob was waylaid by Laughlin and Ware who insisted that they had something important to say to him.
"Well, what is it?" demanded Rob.
"You're coming back next year, aren't you?" asked Ware.
"Of course, if they'll let me," Owen replied in a tone of surprise. "Why?"
"We were just talking about the prospects of the teams for next year," said Ware, smiling shrewdly. "When our class goes, there'll be a pretty big hole to fill."
"Oh, a few poor sticks will be left," Owen observed sarcastically. "In baseball McPherson and Ames and Patterson and I form quite a bunch. Then there's Hendry and Milliken and Buist as a foundation for the eleven. They're about as good as you find 'em. Rohrer and Wolfe are pretty respectable left-overs for the track. If any one can get new material out, Rohrer can. We might be worse off."
"That's a fact," nodded Laughlin. "You've got two good captains in Hendry and Rohrer anyway."