“Well, hello,” he exclaimed, “if it isn’t Birdie Pell. Up and around now, eh?”
“Yes, up, but not very much around. I feel as weak as the dickens and I can’t go very far or do very much without getting disgustingly tired out. I wanted to get over and see the game to-day but Dr. Stout would not let me. Said I would have to be content with just strolling in the sunshine for a week or so before I get on my feet again. How did the game turn out?”
“Oh, we trimmed ’em, 8 to 5, but it was a good game at that. They have a whale of a pitcher in Jack Sibley. Long, lean southpaw who can make a ball do most anything. He had our fellows buffaloed for about four innings. Then they got to him in the fifth and hammered out five runs before he steadied down. I guess they did not have another man to put in in his place or they would have derricked him. They have a good team though. A little ragged in spots and that’s about the only reason why we beat them. When they get in mid-season form they are going to be some team, let me tell you. I believe they will be able to give the Princeton Freshmen a rub. They play each other some time in May.”
“Did you play?” Pell asked, and there was something about the question that made Jeff wonder just what the little Sophomore was thinking.
“No, I was on the bench. So was Rabbit and Cas here. Gould played third and played a dandy game,” said Jeff, generously giving his rival full credit.
Pell looked at Jeff quizzically for a moment. Then he said:
“Shucks, I’d love to have seen the game. But I may see the Sweetwater game next Saturday if I am good and get back some strength.”
“Hope you do,” said Jeff moving on to catch up to Rabbit and Cas.
“Pell looks as if he had had a tough time of it, doesn’t he?” said Cas.