“Why the regular team, you ninny. You are slated to start the game at third Saturday over at East Hampton. Look. There it is on the board. See.”
Jeff looked at the bulletin and was surprised to discover that in the batting order announced, his name appeared in the place of Gould at third base and Gould’s name was among the list of substitutes.
“Well, by jingoes!” exclaimed Jeff jubilantly. “What’s happened?”
“Happened, you old chump? Why, Coach Rice has recognized your superior brand of baseball. That’s what. He’s tied a can to Gould which most of the fellows think he should have done long ago.”
“But Gould is good, Wade. There must be something behind it all. I wonder—”
“Hello, Thatcher,” said Mr. Rice, coming up behind the group of boys. “I’m going to give Gould a rest. He seems a little stale so I’m going to keep him on the bench to-morrow and let you start the game. It all depends, of course, on how you play, whether you finish it or not. Play hard, my boy. Play it hard every step of the way. Good luck.”
“Thank you, Mr. Rice,” he said with enthusiasm. Then as the coach passed on up the hall he turned to Wade and exclaimed:
“Oh, boy, it sure looks like a chance. Play hard! Will I! Watch me! I’ve simply got to make good. I want a chance to play in that Lawrencetown game and win my P.”