As Ogan turned away from the manager a sudden thought flashed into his brain, and he looked swiftly around. The crowd was streaming toward the gates, intent on a refreshing bath and supper, but Ogan’s keen eyes soon singled out Locke in the rear, and in a couple of minutes he had sprinted over to him.
“Want to go in to-morrow?” he asked abruptly.
A faint flush stained Lefty’s face, but his voice was perfectly composed as he answered readily:
“I sure do!”
“I’ll put you in at the beginning of the seventh. The old man’s going to lengthen the game, and wants to run Bert Elgin in to pitch for the regulars. When he does, you can come out for us. We’ll talk it over to-morrow.”
That was all he said, but as he walked away Lefty felt as if he could have hugged the fellow for giving him this chance. To pitch again for the cubs was enough in itself, but to be pitted against Elgin was more than he had hoped for; and it was with difficulty that he restrained the exuberant joy which welled up within him.
He could scarcely wait until supper was over, so eager was he to tell Janet the good news. She was as pleased as he over it, and they were so busy planning her coming to the field that she quite forgot the little hint she had intended dropping of how glad she would be if he and Elgin would only make up their differences.
The latter had called again the night before and conducted himself so tactfully that she found him even more pleasant than at first. She could not believe that either he or Lefty could have done anything very dreadful. It seemed rather as if there must have been some misunderstanding to turn them from friends to enemies, and her heart was set on being the means of bringing them together again. It was only after Lefty’s departure that she realized her omission and determined to rectify it on the morrow if even the slightest opportunity presented itself.