“That’s right!” yelled a double score of voices, and Dr. Rudden, seeing the sway of sentiment, did not object.
“We’ve got two good pitchers!” fairly yelled Hiram. “I know what this all means—that Joe Matson and his crowd——”
“That will do,” the chairman warned him.
“It’s true!” exclaimed Frank Brown, jumping to his feet. “I’m not a good pitcher, and I don’t mind admitting it. I can’t hold the other fellows down enough. If I could, we would have won these last two games, for our boys can bat when they haven’t the heart taken out of them.”
“That’s the way to talk!” cried Tom Davis.
“Nothing like being honest about it,” commented Dr. Rudden. “That statement does you credit, Brown. How many of you think the same—that a different pitcher would strengthen the team?”
“I! I! I!” yelled scores.
“It’s not so! Our pitchers are good enough!” These cries came from Luke, Hiram and a few of their cronies.
“There seems to be a division of opinion,” began the chairman. “I think we had better vote on it.”
“There are a lot of fellows here who have no right to vote!” cried Hiram.