“What do you mean?” asked Joe wonderingly.
“I mean that the main gazaboo isn’t here yet: Mr. Forsythe Hasbrook—old Horsehide they call him. He’s the main coach. These are only his assistants.”
“Is that so?” inquired Spike.
“It sure is. He’s the real thing in baseball—Horsehide is. An old Yale man, but up-to-date. Played ever since he was a baby, and knows the game from A to Z. He never gets here until the preliminary practice has begun on the field, and then it doesn’t take him long to size a fellow up. Of course I only know what I’ve been told,” he added, “but that goes all right.”
“Well, if we didn’t get picked for the team now, I don’t believe we’ll have any chance after the main coach gets here,” said Joe.
“Guess not,” assented Spike. “Here we go.” And they started to practice.