“He thinks you’re a great little pitcher, Tom,” replied Sam, with a twinkle.
Tom smiled. “Why? Because I have big ears?”
“Big ears?” Sam looked puzzled. “He didn’t say anything about your ears.”
“That was a joke,” explained Tom patiently. “There’s a saying that little pitchers have big ears, you know, and you said he said—Oh, shucks! Never mind, you’ll see it after a while.”
“You ought to label your jokes,” replied the other gently. “How’s a fellow to know? How do you feel about school, Tom?”
“Full of enthusiasm,” answered Tom. “I dearly love my school. Next Monday it’s back to the grind, eh? When are you going to call fall practice?”
“As soon as possible, I guess. I’ve got to see Mr. Talbot pretty soon.”
“Bat isn’t back yet, I think. He went out West about three weeks ago, he and Mr. George; Grand Canyon and all that. I suppose they’ll be back in a day or two, though. Excuse me a minute, Sam.”
A customer had entered and Tom arose to wait on him. “I’ll see you later, Tom,” said Sam. “Guess I’ll go and call on Mr. Hall.”
“All right. The directory’s in the booth back there.”