“That’s good,” said Alf. “I guess Payson means to get you on third. Condit isn’t much; Lord beat him out for the place last year, and would have had it this if he’d returned. I guess Payson thinks he owes you something for pulling us out of the hole in the Broadwood game last Fall.”
“Oh, well, I don’t believe I want to get it that way,” said Dan thoughtfully.
“What way?”
“I mean I don’t want to get it by favor.”
“Piffle! Don’t you worry. If you get it, it’ll be because you deserve it. Payson may help you, Dan, but you needn’t worry about having the place presented to you on a plate. Payson isn’t that sort. He never lets his liking for a fellow influence him much. I rather wish he did. He and I are pretty good friends, and I’d rather like to play shortstop. But nothing doing.”
“It doesn’t seem exactly fair for me to step into the infield when you’ve been on the team two years,” said Dan.
“Pshaw, I was only fooling! I’m happy enough out in left field. Why, I couldn’t play short for a minute. I’ve tried it. I can catch flies and throw to base pretty well, but if it wasn’t for the fact that I can bat with the next fellow I wouldn’t hold down my place a minute. I know some schools where you can have almost anything in reason if you happen to be football or baseball captain. But the rule doesn’t work that way here. Millener couldn’t have made the scrub last fall, and he knew it, and didn’t try. And I know that the only thing that keeps me on the nine is the fact that I bat better than any one except Colton. Oh, you have to work for what you get at Yardley. A good thing, too. Over at Broadwood they have about half a dozen societies and society men have the first choice every time. Considering that, it’s a wonder they do as well as they do.”
“I should say so,” agreed Dan. “It’s about a stand-off in athletics, isn’t it?”
“It’s run pretty evenly the last ten or twelve years in baseball and football,” replied Alf, “but we win three out of four times in track games. And we’re away ahead in hockey, in spite of this year’s fizzle. They usually do us up at basket-ball, though. But who cares about basket-ball, anyway—except Tom?”
“I should think we’d go in for rowing here,” said Dan.