“That’s what I suppose you call inside baseball,” commented Mr. Langham. “It is very interesting. You must have played a good deal of baseball, Craig, to know so much about it.”
“I’ve played several years, sir,” replied Sam, a bit embarrassed. “I’ve always caught, though, and you have a better chance to study the game from behind the bat than from anywhere else on the field, I guess. I—I didn’t mean to talk so much, though, when I started out.”
“I don’t think you need apologise. I think we’ve all been very much interested. And I dare say I’m not the only one who has learned something. How about it, fellows!”
Hearty agreement greeted this, and George Meldrum said: “I think it would be fine if Mr. Craig would tell us something like that every evening. I guess all us fellows want to know about baseball; I mean stuff like he’s told us to-night. I know I do.”
“That’s so,” agreed Ned Welch. “How about another lecture to-morrow, Mr. Craig!”
“I’m afraid that’s what it sounded like, a lecture,” said Sam ruefully.
“No, I didn’t mean it that way,” replied Ned earnestly. “We liked it. I always thought that stuff about a certain kind of a ball going to a certain part of the field was just—just made up by men who write about baseball. I didn’t think anyone could really know beforehand, sir.”
“Let’s try it the next time we play,” said Mr. Gifford, “and see how it works out. Anyway, what Mr. Craig has said about shifting positions according to the batter is excellent advice. And we’ll see if we can’t persuade him to tell us some more to-morrow night, fellows. Who plays next Wednesday, by the way?”
“Your team and the Brownies,” answered someone. And a discussion of the probable outcome of that contest followed and almost before anyone knew it nine o’clock had arrived.