The nine played a game Saturday with an outside team, more for practice than anything else, and won it “hands down,” as Holly Cross said. But, after all, it was not much credit to the ’varsity, for their opponents were not as good as the college scrub. Holly caught, the period of Kerr’s suspension not being up yet.
Tom kept at his practice, but he was more than glad when he could resume his class work again and take his place on the second nine.
“Now we’ll tackle work together,” said the coach one afternoon to Tom, for Mr. Lighton had not been allowed to give him directions during the suspension weeks. “I hope you haven’t gone stale, Parsons.”
“I hope not. Kerr and I have been sort of practicing together.”
“That’s good. I hope, before the season is over, that you and he will go into a regular game together. If not, you’ll have your ‘innings’ next year, if you progress as you have been doing.”
Tom was glad of the praise, but he would have been more glad of a chance to get on the ’varsity. Still he determined to do his best on the scrub, but it was hard and rather thankless work.
Mr. Lighton put him through a hard course of “sprouts” that afternoon. With some members of the scrub to bat against him, Tom sent in swift and puzzling balls, for all the while his ability to curve was increasing and his control was improving. That afternoon he struck out six men in succession, retiring them without having given any one of them more than two balls. It was very good work, and the fact that the men were not extraordinary good hitters did not detract from it.
“That’s fine!” cried Mr. Lighton enthusiastically. “I’m going to——” But what he was going to do he did not say.
“They ought to make you substitute pitcher on the ’varsity team,” was the opinion of Dutch Housenlager when the practice was over. “Rod Evert isn’t one-two-six with you, and he doesn’t do any practicing to speak of.”