CHAPTER XIV
A TRY-OUT AT FIRST
The Second Team was formed the third week in April. Joe found, rather to his surprise, that he was to be retained with the first squad as substitute infielder and was not to be relegated to the second. That was, certainly, a compliment to his playing ability, and he was duly pleased, but there were moments during the succeeding fortnight when he almost wished that he had been placed on the scrub, since in that case he would undoubtedly have been put at first and would be playing there regularly instead of sitting half of the time on the bench and trying not to hope that Frank Foley would break a finger or sprain an ankle! When Joe did get in it was more likely to be at second base than first, since Buster Healey, the regular incumbent of that position, was playing a decidedly erratic game and Coach Talbot was becoming discouraged with him and was constantly pulling him out in favour of a substitute. Buster had it in him to play fine ball, but this spring he was badly off his game. Joe was always glad to get a chance to play, and would have gone behind the bat, had he been told to, or even into the outfield, rather than remain on the bench, but he did wish that Bat would give him a chance at first.
Jack suggested once when Joe was mourning the lack of opportunity to exhibit his skill at the first sack that they enter into a deep, dark conspiracy against Handsome Frank. “We might,” said Jack thoughtfully, “decoy him to the soda fountain and slip poison in his drink. Or we might wait for him outside his house some night and stab him full of holes. If we did that it might be best to leave a Black Hand note attached to the stiletto in order to avert suspicion. They’d probably arrest Tony, the bootblack, and might hang him. Tony never did anything to me, and—No, I guess it wouldn’t be fair to have Tony hung. How would a bomb do? We could put it under his seat at school and——”
“And blow ourselves up, too?” asked Joe. “No, I don’t like that idea so much, Jack.”
Jack acknowledged that it had its drawbacks. “Just the same,” he asserted decisively, “something must be done. Frank has a nasty way of grinning at me nowadays, and yesterday he wanted to know if I was feeling well. Said I looked a bit pale. And the funny thing is, Joey, that I don’t feel awfully smart; haven’t for nearly a week. I suppose it’s the warm weather, but if I caught scarlet fever or anything and had to lay off for a couple of weeks I’d lose that bet sure as shooting!”
“Well, I guess you needn’t count on me to help you win it,” replied Joe hopelessly. “Bat seems to think that I’m only good on second, or, sometimes, third.”
“If Buster doesn’t take a brace you’ll find yourself on second for keeps,” said Jack. “I’d like to know what’s the matter with that chap. Last year, and the year before, too, he was a mighty good second-sacker, but now—Great Scott, did you see that heave of his to Frank yesterday? It went three yards wide of the base if it went an inch, and Buster declares that he threw straight as an arrow! And even his hitting is punk. I don’t see Bat’s idea of trying to make a first baseman of Farquhar this season. The kid’s too green for it.”
“Maybe if Healey would brace up,” said Joe, “I’d lose my job at second and might get a chance to substitute Foley. I sometimes wish they’d let me go to the Scrubs.”