“There’s nothing west of the Mississippi we can’t beat three times out of four,” he declared, “and I’d take my chances on an even break with anything the other side of the river.”
“You must have a great team.”
“Haven’t you ever heard about us?”
“I think I’ve seen something in the papers about you.”
“I’ve got the fastest independent team ever pulled together in this country. There isn’t a man in the bunch who can’t step into any of the Big Leagues and make good. They have played on the big teams, every one of them.”
“Has-beens?” questioned the young man smilingly.
For a moment it seemed that the manager of the Outlaws would explode with indignation.
“Has-beens!” he rasped. “Not on your life! Comers, every one.”
“But I inferred they had been canned by the big teams.”
“Canned! Wow! You don’t know what you’re talking about. Not one big-league manager out of ten knows how to handle an eccentric or sensitive player. Most of them have the idea that the way to get baseball out of a man is to pound it into his head that he’s a slob. They are afraid the new player will get chesty and conceited. Now, there’s another way to take the conceit out of a youngster without breaking his spirit. I know how to do it.