Freshmen, however, were herded into the bleachers at one side of the field, the Sophomores into the other, and the opportunity for a rush was averted, or rather delayed.
The two teams arrayed in strange assortments of uniforms, improvised or borrowed for the occasion, practiced, and during the laughable practice of the Sophomores, Katsura walked to where Larry Kirkland was examining a bat.
“Baldwin is trying to make trouble,” he said in low tones. “Look.”
Larry looked in the direction indicated and saw Harry Baldwin in conversation with several Seniors who had assumed police and other duties. One of the Seniors, who had been chosen to umpire, nodded and walked toward the Freshman bench.
“Here, Fresh,” he called, beckoning to Larry. “And you,” he added, addressing Katsura, “what are you doing on this team?”
“We are members of the Freshman class,” they responded quickly.
“You two can’t play,” decided the Senior brusquely. “We can’t allow ringers in these games. Here,” he added, calling the Freshman captain, “you Arries, get these two ringers out and send in two others.”
“Who says we are ringers?” demanded Larry, advancing angrily upon the Senior. “We have as much right to play as any one.”
“I say so,” replied the Senior calmly. “You play too well. I’ve heard about you, and your professional training. Now scoot.”
Speechless with rage and mortification Larry advanced more threateningly. But Katsura quietly grasped his arm.