“There wasn’t much to decide, Cap,” replied the coach. “With you out of it——”
“Preston or Morely.”
“Exactly. And it’s Preston, to my mind.” There was a suggestion of challenge in Mr. Thornton’s voice. Jack glanced at the others. Logan nodded, and so did Payson Walsh, but his brother remained non-committal.
“Ted Morely played a pretty snappy game to-day after I came out,” suggested Jack.
“Oh, Morely’s all right,” agreed the coach, “but in my opinion Preston’s a better man to start the game Saturday. We’ve got to get the jump on Fairfield, Cap, and to do that we ought to start with the best we have. Morely’s smart and fast and—and snappy, but I consider Preston more dependable.”
“Sure,” said the manager. “Ted’s a quitter.”
Jack turned to him, but Jim Walsh was quicker. “Cut that, Pay,” he growled. “You never saw Ted Morely quit in your life.”
“Well, you know what I mean,” his brother protested. “Maybe he isn’t a quitter, exactly, but—he quits! Doesn’t he, now? Didn’t he lie down in the Fielding game? Oh, I know he did something to his shoulder, but he was all right the next morning. It couldn’t have been much. I like Ted, but when it comes to picking a right half for Saturday——”
“The trouble is that he’s always getting hurt,” said Logan.
“He’s all right now,” Jack said. “He has had punk luck, I’ll grant you, but being laid up a couple of times hasn’t got anything to do with Saturday. And you say yourselves that he played a snappy game to-day.”