“You don’t mean they’re going to pitch that fellow, do you?” asked the coach.
Tom looked and shook his head. “I never saw him before,” he said. “Wonder where they got him. They wanted us to agree to play to-day with the same line-up we had before, but I refused because I wanted Sam to catch for us. I guess they thought they’d strengthen themselves some, too. That fellow must be twenty-three or four.”
“All of that, I guess. And from the easy way in which he handles that ball I’d say he’d done it before,” added Mr. Talbot drily. “Probably a college man they’ve picked up.”
“I don’t see,” said Tommy Hughes, who had joined them, “why two can’t play at that game, sir. You might play for us, Mr. Talbot.”
“I guess not. Teams don’t usually play their coaches, Hughes.”
“But you’re not our coach, sir. This isn’t the high school team, it’s the Blues.”
Mr. Talbot laughed. “Really? But I see quite a few familiar faces! You might get Mr. George to play, though.”
“He’s going to umpire,” said Tom. “I just asked him. There’s Mr. Hall coming in, though. He used to pitch. We might ask him.”
“John Hall? What’s he doing here?” Mr. Talbot asked.
“He’s a friend of Sam’s and we asked him to come to the game. You know him, don’t you, Mr. Talbot?”