“I distrust Mr. Haxton,” said Katsura. “He always is with the sporty crowd. Those who have money are his friends.”
“That’s bad for the school,” replied Larry. “Let’s walk over and watch the practice, anyhow.”
The two boys found a vantage spot on the grass at the edge of the wide playing field and, reclining at ease, watched the efforts of the youths who were straining every muscle to prove their ability and right to play for the honor of the school. Both Katsura and Larry felt keenly the renunciation they had made, and each laughingly accused the other of purposely dragging him into temptation.
Boys of every height, of many ages, and many colors, creeds and races, attired in makeshift uniforms, were working desperately to attract the attention of the coach or his advisors. Some wore white shirts, with the wreckage of old football or baseball trousers. Some wore trousers abbreviated by the simple operation of cutting off at the knees. Many wore socks, with great lengths of bare leg showing. Roommates possessing one uniform had divided the treasure, one taking the trousers and one the shirt. There were track suits, golf suits, white ducks, and one youth drew a laugh by appearing in an undershirt and a wide pair of Chinese trousers that flapped with every move. But all were in deadly earnest.
Haxton, the coach, strolled around among the perspiring, eager candidates, stopping frequently to watch the movement of some one. Occasionally he caused some youngster to thrill by inquiring his name and jotting it upon a pad of paper. He smiled at the awkwardness of some who possessed more zeal than skill. At times he talked with the veterans of the preceding season, directing them to watch certain of the boys who had shown symptoms of skill in catching or throwing.
Larry, remembering his own trials in selecting the teams at Shasta View ranch and at preparatory school, watched Haxton’s methods with keen interest. He observed with a feeling of resentment that Harry Baldwin walked with the coach offering advice, and sometimes pointing to some youngster.
“Baldwin seems to be his right-hand man,” remarked Larry.
“They are friends,” said Katsura. “It is said that Baldwin goes with him around the cities, and spends large sums of money.”
“The sports seem to control athletics here.”
“There was much complaint last year,” remarked Katsura gravely. “The rich and the sporty ran the teams—and we were beaten. Many blamed Haxton.”