“They are at liberty to TRY,” responded Haxton, emphatically. “Come on, you fellows, get to work. We’ve been wasting a lot of time arguing over nothing. You new men get out there in the outfield and chase flies. We’ll soon discover whether or not you can play ball.”
Lattiser stood with a twisted grin on his face. Larry, who had flushed with a rebellious start at the order to chase flies saw the veteran watching him, smiled his thanks and turning raced to catch Katsura, who already was sprinting for the outfield. Lattiser stood for an instant, then strolled away, opening his neglected book.
“The Cascade team is looking up,” he remarked whimsically to himself. “I thought that youngster was going to refuse to go. He is all right—he and that little brown boy.”
“We’re in just as bad a fix as ever, Katty,” remarked Larry as they trotted back, perspiring after pursuing a long hit to the center field fence. “Haxton will not give us a fair chance—but we must keep at it, and keep trying.”
“One of our philosophers says,” replied the little Nipponese, “that he who is in power never is in power long who rules unfairly.”
“Gee,” laughed Larry, “maybe our philosophers say the same thing; but it is hard for me to swallow.”
That evening he wrote a long letter to Krag, detailing the events of the day. He awaited anxiously for four days for the answer, wondering how the big ex-pitcher would look upon his moves and his submission to what he considered unjust treatment.
“You’ve scored in the first inning,” read Krag’s letter. “Just keep plugging away and they can’t keep you down. Don’t criticise any of the other fellows, or offer advice unless it is asked. You are lucky to have three fellows with you. Work with them and let Haxton go his own gait. The guy who isn’t square as a boss soon cooks his own goose.”
“You see,” remarked Katsura laughing as Larry read to him what Krag had written, “you have your philosophers. Mr. Krag says the same thing—in a different way.”