“What do the other fellows say?”
“Well, they don’t know as much about him as you and I do. But they are grumbling because Langridge doesn’t put enough ginger into his work.”
“What about Mr. Lighton?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think he suspects and then again I’m not sure. If he really knew what Langridge was doing, I don’t believe he’d let him pitch. But you know Langridge has plenty of money and he hasn’t any one like a father or mother to keep tabs on him, so he does as he pleases. He’s practically supported the team this year, for we haven’t made much money. I suppose that’s why Kindlings stands for him as he does. Maybe that’s why Mr. Lighton doesn’t send him to the bench. Langridge’s money will do a great deal.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t like to think that because of it he is kept on the team when there’s a chance of our losing the pennant.”
“Neither would I. Maybe I’m wrong about the coach, but what’s the use of saying anything? Langridge will pitch for us against Boxer Hall, and—no, I’ll not say what I was going to. I believe if we lose that game there’ll be such a howl that he won’t dare pitch against Fairview. That will give you a chance, Tom, for the last game of the season.”
“What about Evert?”
“Oh, he’s practically out of it. He hasn’t had any practice to speak of and wouldn’t last two minutes. You’re in good trim. You did some great work on the scrub yesterday.”
“Yes, but it’s not likely to amount to anything. However, I’m going along and root for you to-morrow.”
“Yes, we’ll need all the support we can get. I declare I’m as nervous as a girl, and I’ve got to buckle down and prepare for a Latin exam, too.”