JOE IN THE BOX
“Well, when are you fellows going to start?” asked Tony Johnson, captain of the Academy nine, as he ceased his catching practice with Ed. Wilson, the pitcher. “The game ought to have been called ten minutes ago.”
“Our pitcher isn’t here,” said Darrell anxiously. “We’re expecting him every minute. If you could wait a little longer——”
“Haven’t you any one else you can put in?” asked Ferd Backus, the manager. “I saw some one practicing a while ago.”
“He isn’t our regular pitcher,” said George Rankin, “but if Sam doesn’t come we’ll have to lead off with him.”
Joe had been aware that Sam was not on hand. He looked up as car after car passed the grounds, thinking to see Sam enter, for the electric vehicles from Riverside ran close to the Academy diamond.
“I suppose they’ll put Parnell in at the start,” Joe mused, naming the second baseman who sometimes acted as pitcher for the Stars. Joe did not dare hope that he himself would be chosen.
“Well, how much longer?” demanded Johnson, when two more cars had passed and Sam was on neither of them. “We want to finish this game before dark.”
“All right,” assented Darrell briskly. “Get your men ready, Rankin.”
“But who will pitch?”