“How are things going to-day, Mr. Leyden?” inquired the reporter.
The coach regarded him suspiciously.
“Now don’t come to me for material,” he said. “You’ve made trouble enough already, Billings. Go ahead and write your stuff, but don’t expect assistance from me.”
Billings smiled.
“I think I’ve taken pains never to give away any confidences or secrets,” he said. “No one has the good of the team more at heart than I have. Sometimes it becomes necessary to tell the truth. I kept still until outsiders began to get onto the actual condition here. It’s no secret that Yale needs pitchers. I wish we were in position to give this boy a trial, Leyden.”
He placed his hand on Dick’s shoulder as he spoke, causing the lad to flush and look embarrassed.
“Of course you know we can’t do that, and he might not prove the man we need if we could.”
“This boy,” said Walter, “is a natural pitcher. He’s made a study of it, and he has a few original curves of his own.”
“There are no original curves nowadays, Billings. There’s nothing new in that line.”
“Think so?”