“Nothing of the sort!” exclaimed Joe quickly. “I knew nothing about it until Teeter told me. Of course I’d like to pitch; there’s no use denying that, but I don’t want any fellow to give way for me if he’s making good.”
“That’s the trouble—he isn’t,” put in Teeter.
Hiram took a quick resolve. He could smooth matters over now, and later arrange them to suit himself and Luke. So he said:
“All right, I admit that we didn’t make a very good showing to-day. But it was our first game, and Brown and Akers didn’t do very well in the box. But don’t be too hasty. Now I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” and he acted as though it was a big favor. “I’ll let you fellows have a voice when I make changes after this. We’ll do some harder practice. I’ll make Brown and Akers pitch better——”
“I don’t believe he can,” murmured Tom.
“We won’t make any more shifts—right away,” went on Hiram. “Maybe you fellows were right. I haven’t given as much time to the team as I should. But wait—we’ll win the Blue Banner yet.”
“That’s all we ask,” said Teeter. “We just wanted you to know how we felt about it, and if things are better and our nine can win, we won’t say another word.”
“All right, let it go at that,” and Hiram affected to laugh, but there was not much mirth in it. “Might as well quit now, I guess. Everybody out for hard practice next week. I want to see some better stick-work, and as for pitching—where are Brown and Akers?”
“Here!” cried the two boxmen.
“You fellows will have to brush up a bit on your speed and curves,” went on the bully manager. “Isn’t that right, Luke?”