“You bet he does!” said Alf. “And he’s a dandy, too. He used to catch for Cornell when he was there, and they say he was the best ever. By the way, Gerald, Dan says you’re going in for baseball.”
“Yes, Mr. Bendix said I might. Do you think I’ll stand any show for the Fourth Class team, Alf?”
“Ever played much?” Gerald shook his head sadly.
“I never played at all in a game. But I can throw a ball pretty well and catch; and I can bat a little. I had a tutor last year who used to play with me, and he said I did pretty well.”
“I dare say you’ll do as well as most of them,” said Tom. “Don’t let them think you’re a duffer, though; put up a front; tell ’em you’re one of the finest young baseball players that ever struck the Hill.”
“I guess they wouldn’t believe that,” laughed Gerald. “Don’t you play, Tom?”
“Baseball? I rather guess not! It’s a silly game.”
Alf laughed maliciously.
“No,” he said, “Tom doesn’t care for baseball, especially the batting part of it, do you, Tom?” Tom growled.
“You see,” Alf continued, smiling reminiscently, “Tom went out for the team last Spring. They thought he was big enough to be promising material. So Payson let him stay on a while. One day, just after we got out of doors, we had batting practice at the net. Colton was pitching. You know, he has about everything there is, Colton has, and he thought he’d have some fun with Tom. So the first ball he sent Tom swiped at so hard that he fell over himself and tumbled into the net.”