“I see.” Joe’s hopes of the other’s usefulness dwindled. He had seen a good many cases of ambitious freshmen whose belief in themselves as pitchers was not justified by subsequent events. Every year there reported for practise a dozen or so of hopeful youngsters, who firmly believed themselves capable of filling all such important positions as pitcher and catcher, merely on the strength of having played such positions with more or less success on some fourth- or fifth-rate team. Joe mentally assigned Jack to this class of deluded ones.
“Well,” he said, “of course you may count on having a fair trying-out, but I wouldn’t hope for too much. You see, a fellow has to be something of an expert to get in the box here; it’s different from playing on a high-school team. Besides, we’re rather well fixed for pitchers: there’s Gilberth and King and Knox, all of whom are first-class men. Of course, we want new material wherever we can find it, and if you prove that you can pitch good ball we’ll give you all the chance you want. But if I were you I’d try for something else this spring, for some position in the field. We’re long on pitchers and short on out-fielders. Of course, you could keep your hand in at twirling; there’d be plenty of opportunity for that at practise.”
“I’ll take whatever I can get,” answered Jack. “I don’t lay any claim to being a wonder at pitching. I was the best we had in Auburn, but, of course, that doesn’t mean very much.”
“Auburn, Maine? Do you live there?”
“Two miles outside of town.”
“Is that so? Maybe you know a cousin of mine there, Billy Cromwell? His father has a big tannery. He graduated from here three years ago this coming spring.”
“I know him quite well,” replied Jack, smiling for the first time since he had entered the study. “It was Billy who persuaded me to come here. He used to tell me about Erskine a good deal. Of course, he’s seven or eight years older than I am, but he was always very nice to me.”
“Think of that!” said Joe. “The idea of you being a friend of Billy’s! He’s fine chap, is Billy. What’s he doing now?”
“Why, he’s assistant superintendent. Every one likes him very much, and he’s awfully smart, I guess. Well, I’ll report again to-morrow. I’m glad I saw you, and—thank you.”
“Of course you’ll report. And if I can help you at any time, just let me know.” He opened the door and Jack passed out. “See you to-morrow, Weatherby.”