On Monday Wayne went back to the ball park and again served as utility man, catching throw-ins for Jimmy Slattery and backing up the fielders during batting practice. He was rapidly becoming an accepted feature of the morning work and the players, most of whom had by this time heard his story, were very friendly toward him, “Red” Herring especially. Practice lacked vim this morning, and the manager, while he gave no such exhibition of temper as he had displayed Friday, was plainly disgruntled. Wayne took pains to keep out of his way, but he was haunted by a feeling that Mr. Milburn’s lack of recognition was only assumed. Once Wayne surprised the manager observing him with an expression that, while not unfriendly, was decidedly ironical. He wondered then whether Mr. Milburn had recognised him Saturday. Somehow he rather thought he had!
Practice again ended without any apparent advancement of Wayne’s fortunes, for he had by now determined that when he again broached the subject of that try-out to the manager it should be after Harrisville had won a game and while Mr. Milburn was in the best of humours. To bring the matter up at the wrong moment might, he suspected, result disastrously. Although Wayne was unacquainted with the phrase, it was the psychological moment that he waited for. Besides, there was another thing that he was banking on, and that was the return to Harrisville of Chris Farrel. It seemed to him that Chris could easily secure that try-out if only he would put in his appearance. But inquiry that morning of Jimmy Slattery was not encouraging. Jimmy didn’t know when Chris would get back. He had heard that the scout was working his way south as far as Maryland. He might be back tomorrow or next week. He came and went about as he saw fit, a fact which Jimmy, for some reason not apparent to Wayne, seemed to resent.
Damascus had no trouble winning that Monday game. Herring started in the box for the Badgers but lasted only three innings and was succeeded by Tommy Cotton. In the seventh Cotton resigned and Nick Crane took up the task. Harrisville played rather poorly, Wayne learned from the evening paper. At all events, Damascus gathered in the contest to the tune of 4 to 0.
Tuesday’s work-out went with a new dash and vigour, and the batting practice lasted twice as long as usual. It was freely given out that Mr. Milburn intended to win a majority of those four games, which meant that the Badgers must take the remaining three. That afternoon “Red” Herring again started the performance and this time he went through without a hitch, and, although the home club failed again to win renown with their sticks, the game went to the Badgers 2 to 1. Wayne was tempted to try his fortunes with Mr. Milburn that evening, but discretion held him back. If the Badgers took tomorrow’s game perhaps he would risk it. Or maybe it would be still safer to wait until the Badgers had secured their three out of four. That is, if they did. They had got back their eight-game lead again, but Doncaster had won both games of a double header with Trenton and was now tied for second place, and it was no secret that Manager Milburn feared the Billies more than the Damascus club.
Wayne got a reply from Jim Mason that afternoon. Jim was all for having Wayne give up and come back to his job. Perhaps he had read more in the boy’s letter than Wayne had intended him to. “I haven’t got any new fellow in your place yet,” wrote Jim, “and I won’t if you say you’re coming back. I can get along for another week I guess but you better write and say you are coming back so I will know whether to expect you or not. The missis is well and so is Terry. He sends you his love and says please come back to see him. We are not very busy right now but last week they dumped a string of foreigns on me and I had a tough time getting shut of them. Terry says tell you the chicken with the twisted leg up and died on him the other day. So no more at present.”
Wayne was strongly tempted after reading Jim’s letter to see Mr. Milburn then and there and, if he still refused, to go back to Medfield on the first train in the morning. Perhaps it was a chance remark of June’s, as much as anything else, that kept him from yielding to that temptation.
“I sure does like this yere Ha’isville,” declared June that evening at supper. “Wouldn’ go back to that little ol’ Medfield if they ask me, no, sir!”
“You wouldn’t?” asked Wayne. “Why, June?”
“’Cause this is a regular white man’s town, Mas’ Wayne. Livin’s cheap an’ fine, an’ folkses is fine, an’ there’s somethin’ goin’ on all the time. An’ if I wanted to, Mas’ Wayne, I could get me a job in no time at all, I could so, yes, sir.”
“What kind of a job, June?”