“Yes, he can play ball. He’ll be the pitcher of the school nine, unless Dan goes him one better.”
“Dan will do it all right,” asserted Walter, although even Dan somehow felt there was a slight note of anxiety in his roommate’s apparent confidence.
Promptly at half past two the following afternoon Dan and Walter went to the field. Ned had had his difficulties in securing sufficient players to make up two nines, so keen was the interest of the school in learning what the outlook for the eleven was likely to be. However, after a time, two nines were obtained and preparations for the scrub game were completed.
“Dan, you can’t pitch in those clothes!” protested Walter as his roommate seated himself on the bench. “Where’s your uniform?”
“What uniform?”
“Why, the one you used in Rodman.”
“I left that with that study gown you didn’t like.”
Walter’s face flushed slightly as he said: “But Dan, you don’t understand how much depends on the impression you make on Ned and the other fellows to-day. Let me get you——”
Walter rose abruptly to go to the dressing-room of the club-house, but as he did so Dan said quietly, “No frills to-day, Walter. This is only a scrub game anyway.”
“No, it isn’t, at least as far as you are concerned!”