[CHAPTER XVII]
AFTERNOON PRACTICE
It was a Thursday, languidly warm, and trade had been dull. Mr. Cummings wandered down to where Tom, having just got back from school, was placing selling marks on a new arrival of running shirts and trunks.
“How’s the high school nine getting along, Tom?” he asked. “I saw they got beaten by the Y.M.C.A. team the other day.”
“Yes, sir, rather badly. I haven’t seen them play yet, but I hear that they’re sort of up against it for pitchers this year.”
“Haven’t seen them, you say? That’s so, you don’t have much chance, do you? What do you think of that, Horace?” Mr. Cummings turned to the junior partner, who was busy across the store. “Here’s Tom selling baseballs and bats and things and hasn’t seen a game of ball yet. Hard luck, eh?”
Mr. Wright grunted and Mr. Cummings winked jovially at Tom. Then, to their surprise, Mr. Wright added, “I s’pose it is.”
Mr. Cummings laughed. “It surely is,” he declared. “Tom, suppose you and I go and see a game this afternoon. I guess we won’t be needed here.”
“They don’t play to-day, sir.”
“Don’t they!” Mr. Cummings was palpably disappointed. “Thought I saw a lot of the boys going out toward the field awhile ago in playing togs.”