Coach Talbot nodded. “Something of the sort. Of course, if he showed up strong in a couple of years, he could get into a college and not have to pay anything. Take my own college, for instance. There’s a lot of old grads who are always on the lookout for promising athletes. Any fellow who looks real good to them can get through four years without its costing him a cent. It’s done right along. But, somehow, I don’t like it. It may do for some fellows, Bat, but it’s—it’s——”
“I wouldn’t let a boy of mine do it—if I had one,” declared Mr. George with emphasis. “Maybe in a couple of years, Bat, you and I will be flusher. Then Tom’s got a pretty good position with Cummings and Wright. Cummings is real fond of him; you can see that. In two years he might be able to save quite a little himself. Then, maybe, you and I, we could——”
Mr. Talbot nodded again. Then he laughed softly. “We’re a funny pair to be adopting a boy, Ben!”
“I wasn’t meaning to exactly adopt him——”
“I understand. We’ll think it over. Anyhow, at least we can keep an eye on the chap and see that he doesn’t—— Hello! here’s trouble!”
Tom had fanned the first batsman, but the second, after waiting craftily, had drawn a pass. The Petersburg coachers shouted joyfully:
“Here’s where we break it up, fellows! Here we go! Make it be good, Gus, make it be good!”
But Tom steadied down again and the best the next batter could do was to hit to shortstop and the first runner was out at second, the double failing by a scant foot. The next man up caught an out-shoot on the end of his bat and whaled it into deep centre, placing the runner on third and wisely staying at first himself. By this time the Petersburg supporters were rooting lustily and the coachers were shouting their lungs out at first and third. The latter realised that if they could unsteady the rival pitcher for a moment now they could leap into the lead. The man on first stole on the first ball, a pitchout, and Sam Craig slammed the ball back to Tom. The runner on third, however, was too canny to try for the plate, although he had taken a good lead.
With one ball to his credit, for the batsman had wisely refrained from hitting at the pitchout, knowing that Sam Craig would not be likely to throw down to second with a man on third, he allowed a strike to go by, an in-shoot that broke beautifully and slipped over the inside of the plate. Then came another ball, a drop. And then, while Tom was poised on one foot, his hands overhead, two things happened simultaneously. Mr. Talbot leaped from the bench with an involuntary exclamation of warning and the runner on third, who had been taking a good twelve-foot lead, dashed for the plate!