“Would it?” Mr. Brent smiled and settled his cane between his knees. “Who are those young fellows out there, Morris?”
“Those are the Lesterville players, sir. They’re warming up for the game.”
“Warming up, eh? Then the game hasn’t begun yet?”
“No, sir. They’re coming in now, though. It will start in a minute.”
“Need all this room for a game of ball, do they?”
“Why, of course, papa,” replied Louise. “Sometimes they hit the ball way over by the further fence there!”
“That so? Well, let’s see ’em do it!”
CHAPTER XXI
MR. BRENT TELEPHONES
Perhaps a liking for baseball is latent in every American. Otherwise how explain the fact that Mr. Jonathan Brent, who, on his own showing, had never witnessed a game before in his life, watched that one with very evident interest? It was, of course, quite incomprehensible to him at first and both Morris and Louise had to do a lot of patient explaining. But by the end of the second inning their father had a very fair notion of what was going on, although he still was puzzled by many of the incidents. As when a Lesterville player tried to reach second after Will Scott had captured a foul behind third base and was thrown out by a scant foot. If it was a foul, argued Mr. Brent, that fellow on first shouldn’t have left his base. No sooner was that explained—by Morris, since Louise’s knowledge of baseball wasn’t sufficient for the task—than Tom Haley was unfortunate enough to hit the Lesterville right fielder on the elbow. The umpire waved the squirming, dancing batter to first and Mr. Brent exclaimed: “Now, what’s that for, Morris? He didn’t hit the ball, did he?”
At the end of the fourth inning, when Clearfield had managed to bat out a two run lead, Mr. Brent looked at his watch and announced his intention of leaving. “Guess you can finish this without me now,” he said. “Mother will be wondering where I’ve gone to.”