“How is Tom getting on with his shingling or painting or whatever it is he’s doing?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Well, it would be a good thing if he could come out and practice a little more. It’s too bad we can’t find another fellow to help out with the pitching, Gordie. If Tom got sick we’d be in a fix.”
“We surely would! But I don’t believe Tom was ever sick in his life. Anyway, he was pretty fit to-day. I caught him for a few minutes, and he had everything there is.”
Dick smiled. “Tom has just three balls, Gordie: an out, a pretty good drop, and a fast one that’s a peach. That’s all he needs, though. If he mixes them up right he can get by. But we’ve got to find our batting eye Saturday if we’re to win. How about the line-up? Think we’d better change it?”
“Yes, I do. This fellow Shores had better follow Lanny, don’t you think? He seems to think he can bat, but he didn’t connect with much yesterday.”
“Maybe he was embarrassed,” suggested Dick, with a smile.
“Embarrassed!” said Gordon. “Yes, about as much embarrassed as a bull-pup! Maybe he will do better in a game, though. Well, so-long, Dick. I’ll have to hustle or I’ll be late for supper.”
“Coming around to-night?”
“I don’t believe so. I told Lanny I’d go over there. See you to-morrow, though.”