“We all wished,” he announced to the attentive audience, “that a baseball team comprised eighteen men instead of nine, because there are at least eighteen of you who deserve places. It’s been hard work making a choice in lots of cases, and we may have made mistakes. But we’ve done our honest best, fellows, and we’ve judged you only on performance. Some of you are going to be disappointed. That’s unavoidable. To those who have striven and failed the camp owes its thanks. One thing I am quite sure of, however, and that is that those of you who aren’t chosen will hold no resentment, but will ‘pull’ just as hard. Well, here’s the list, fellows.”
Mr. Gifford leaned forward so that the firelight fell on the sheet of paper he held.
“Porter and Gifford, pitchers; Craig and Benson, catchers; Murdock, first base; Brown, second; Crossbush, third; Thursby, shortstop; Meldrum, right field; Groom, centre field; Peterson, left field; substitutes, Charrit, Temple, Sawyer, Simpson, and Wonson.”
A hearty cheer arose as Mr. Gifford finished. Disappointed ones grinned hard and shouted loudest. Successful candidates were pummelled and thumped and there was a great to-do until Mr. Langham arose.
“I don’t know much about it, fellows,” he said, “but I guess we can trust Mr. Gifford and Mr. Brown and Mr. Craig. I feel certain that they have chosen fairly and well. A good many of you had to be left out. They left me out, too. And Mr. Haskins. But he and I, and all the rest of us who haven’t been selected, are going to cheer just as hard. I hope we shall win that game, fellows, but if we don’t, let’s show those Mount Placid chaps that we are bully good losers. In any case, we’re going to have a good time. We’re going to stand together and pull together for a victory, and if we don’t get it we’re going to keep on smiling. That’s all, I guess, except that I think we ought to give a good big cheer for the team!”
It was given with a will, not once but twice, and there were cries of “Speech! Speech!” And that reminded someone that they hadn’t been told who was to captain the team and the question was propounded. It was decided that the team members should vote for captain and instantly the names of the three councillors were proposed. But Mr. Gifford replied that he believed the honour should go to one of the boys and in the end the choice fell on Ed Thursby. They cheered Ed then and again demanded a speech, but the newly elected captain firmly refused to oblige. It was Mr. Gifford who finally came to his assistance.
“Since,” he said, “Thursby is overcome with the honour you have done him and is blushing over there so that for a moment I mistook him for the fire, I take it on myself to reply for him. Here’s what Ed would say if he made that speech: ‘Fellows, I appreciate what you’ve done and I thank you for it. Let’s all do our best from now on. For my part, fellows, I don’t see why we shouldn’t everlastingly whale the daylights out of those chaps up there. Anyhow, let’s try to! I thank you one and all!’”
When the laughter subsided Mr. Gifford added: “To-morrow, fellows, there’ll be only a very short practice, for there’s going to be a lot to do in the way of packing and getting ready. Right after siesta every fellow must get his bag ready. Don’t put in more than you’ll need. Remember that when we start the hike we’ve got to get down to essentials. Those of you who were here last year will know what to take. For the benefit of those who were not I’ll just say that the nearer you can come to limiting your pack to a toothbrush and a cake of soap the better off you’ll be! Now then, let’s have a song or two to end up with. What’ll it be, fellows?”