“Then we’ll soon get acquainted. Your name sounds familiar to me, by the way. Have I met your father, perhaps?”
“No, sir, he’s dead. There’s just my mother and sister and me, sir. You might have met my sister, though. She does typewriting here. She has a room on the third floor.”
“Of course! Miss Craig and I have had a lot of business together. So she’s your sister, is she? Well, she’s a fine, smart girl, Craig, and a good stenographer, too, by George! I suppose you and John talked baseball a good deal, eh?”
“Yes, sir, quite a lot.”
“And he gave you a heap of advice, too, I’ll wager!”
“Yes, sir, some.”
“Of course! He’s as full of advice as a pudding is of plums. He’s the sort who wants everyone to do things his way,” chuckled Mr. Hall. “We used to have some fine old spats when we were in college together. John not only wanted to catch, but pitch, too. If he could have had his way he’d have played every position on the team, I guess!”
“He told me two or three things I didn’t know about catching, Mr. Hall.”
“Oh, he can tell you things, all right! He’s full of perfectly wonderful information. He’s the sort who, if he was presented to the King of England, would start right off telling that gentleman how to improve his batting average!”
Sam smiled. “What he told me sounded pretty good, though,” he said defensively.