“An oyster is better,” declared Pete, and they scientifically discussed the various merits of the two.
“If we had Professor Clatter here he’d paint it with some eye dope and Cap would look all to the merry.” suggested Bill. But the traveling medicine man was not available, and Cap had to do the best he could.
It was some days before he was decently presentable and North was just as bad. Of course the faculty must have suspected the reason for the darkened eyes and bruised faces, but as there was no official report or complaint, nothing was said of it, and the matter was dropped.
The upper classmen took up the question, and a sort of truce was patched up between Cap and the bully, but though North professed to be friendly there was a sullen look in his eyes, and Cap knew he would do him a bad turn if he got the chance. Mersfeld and North were thicker than ever, and the Smith boys agreed among themselves to be on their guard.
Meanwhile there was baseball a plenty. Some league games were played, and a number of minor contests took place. It was drawing close to the time for the annual Freshman battle on the diamond with Tuckerton, and this game was always a hotly contested one, and eagerly looked forward to by the first year students and their friends.
“We stand a better chance to win this time, than ever before,” remarked Armitage, who was captain of the first year team. “We’ve got Bill to pitch, and he’s a wonder.”
The Varsity twirler did occupy the box for the Freshmen nine, and no objection had been raised to this arrangement until nearly time for the Tuckerton game. Then the nine of that school sent in a formal protest, objection to Bill on the ground that though a first year lad, he was not properly a member of the Freshman team, since he was the Varsity pitcher.
“Well, we’ll just ignore that objection, and if they don’t want to play with Bill in the box we’ll claim the game by forfeit,” decided Armitage. The dispute waxed hot and an appeal was taken to the student body which governed athletics among the members of the school league. They decided that Bill could pitch.
“Well, he won’t if we fellows have any spunk,” declared Borden, the Tuckerton captain.
“Spunk? How do you mean?” asked Swain, the pitcher.