“Why not?”
“Oh, Gus had a way when the ball was snapped back of grabbing dirt in each hand and then rubbing it into the eyes of the center of the other team. Then he had a trick of grabbing the other center right by the leg and pinching his muscles so hard that the fellow was limp as a rag. Of course it wasn’t so bad when it came to his putting up a game like that with the Military Academy. They’re a lot of muckers themselves and any trick is fair in war, you know.”
“Gus Kiggins said I was a mucker.”
“Yes, I know he did, but you mustn’t mind a little thing like that. Gus is sore.”
“Sore?”
“Why, yes,” laughed Walter. “He’d counted upon being the pitcher of the school nine next spring. Naturally he doesn’t enjoy having you take his place. You wouldn’t like it yourself.”
“I haven’t taken his place yet.”
“You’re dead sure of it, Dan, if you can keep up such work as you were doing this afternoon. All the fellows say so. They’re warm for forming the new league too. I think myself it’s a sure thing. We’ll have the pennant in baseball too, if you pitch your game. Dan, you’ll be the king!”
Dan smiled at the suggestion, though the words of praise were sweet to him. To an extent they served to drive away some of the darker feelings that had been in his mind. He decided in his quiet way that he would keep his eyes open and perhaps some of the things in which he was aware that his training was deficient might be improved without his roommate referring to them, for in spite of his unassuming ways Dan was keenly sensitive to the suggestions for improvement which Walter felt free to make.