"I did try to, Phil; honestly, I did," returned Durand, at last becoming warm; "but what could I do against all you fellows flattering him and praising him and kowtowing to him as if he were a little tin god? You don't suppose he cares anything for my opinion, do you? You don't suppose that Jones and Stratton and Nicholson are going to throw around less money because he's with 'em, do you? Not on your life!"
Poole thought a few moments in silence. Then he looked up with a smile and dropped his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I don't believe it's as bad as you make out," he said. "You always were prejudiced against the fellow, you and Lindsay too; and I think I know why. Owen's soured because he can't catch Carle here as he did at home. That made him throw over O'Connell in a sulky fit; and now, I suppose, he runs down Carle, and you fellows in Hale take his opinion."
Durand was listening with lips parted and eyes set in a stare of astonishment. "Well, of all the crazy ideas that is the limit! Owen has never, so far as I've known, said one word against Carle to any one. He did say why he changed O'Connell for Patterson. Patterson wanted to learn, and O'Connell couldn't be taught because he knew it all without telling. You're entirely off about the whole business."
"I hope I am," said Poole.
"By the way, have you seen Owen catch?"
"Of course. I look in on him every now and then."
"What do you think of him?"
"A good, fair man. I was counting on him and O'Connell as second-string battery, but he doesn't seem to want the job."
"Have you heard him coaching Patterson?"
"Why, yes, I suppose so. There was nothing remarkable about it."