“I’ve played baseball a little. That’s about all.”
The coach reached out and closed his fingers inquiringly over Ira’s forearm and then pressed his knuckles against the boy’s chest. “Where’d you get those muscles, then?” he demanded.
“I don’t know, sir. Maybe in the woods. I’ve swung an ax sometimes, and I’ve ridden a saw.”
“Ridden a saw? What’s that?”
“Why,” replied Ira, smiling, “when a kid like me, or a new hand, takes hold of a cross-saw they say he ‘rides’ it. ‘Just you keep your feet off the ground, sonny, and I’ll ride you’ is what the old hands tell you.”
His audience laughed, and Coach Driscoll remarked: “Well, I guess you got down and walked sometimes, Rowland! You’ve got some fat on you that you don’t need, but we’ll work that off. Put him on the scales after practice, Lowell, and see that he doesn’t come down too fast. Have you had your examination?”
Ira shook his head. “For what, sir?” he asked.
“For football—or anything else. I guess it’s all right for today, but you’ll have to see Mr. Tasser tomorrow and he will fill out a card. If he finds you all right for football—as he will, I guess—show your card to Lowell. Now, then, let’s see. You’d better join that fourth squad over there. Learn to handle the ball the first thing, Rowland. It’ll take you two or three days to get acquainted with it, I guess. Don’t be in a hurry to get on. I’ll look you up again in a day or two.”
“I’ll take you over,” said Fred Lyons. “Do we scrimmage today, coach?”