"Not quick enough on judgment," admonished Mr. Luce. "Now, we'll take another look at the style of an ambitious pitcher or two. Ripley, suppose you try?"
Fred started and colored. Next, he looked pleased with himself as he strode jauntily forward.
"May I ask for my own catcher, sir?" Fred asked.
"Yes; certainly," nodded the coach.
"Rip must have something big up his sleeve, if any old dub of a catcher won't do," jeered some one at the back of the crowd.
"Attention! Rip, the ladylike twirler!" sang out another teasing student.
"Let her rip, Rip!"
A good many were laughing. Fred was not popular. Many tolerated him, and some of the boys treated him with a fair amount of comradeship. Yet the lawyer's son was no prime favorite.
"Order!" rapped out the coach, sharply. "This is training work. You'll find the minstrel show, if that's what you want, at the opera house next Thursday night."
"How well the coach keeps track of minstrel shows!" called another gibing voice.