“Junior? No, no; I mean the youngster that’s pitching.”
“Oh, that’s Weatherby, a freshman.”
“Weatherby? Oh, yes.” He watched Jack send in a couple more balls and then turned to Bissell again. “You’d better let him keep on pitching,” he said. “Seems to me he’s rather promising. What do you think?”
“I’ve never seen him pitch until to-day,” answered Bissell. “But he seems to be able to send in good, clean, straight balls. I don’t suppose he knows much about anything else, though.”
“Well, keep your eye on him,” said Hanson. “Can’t have too many pitchers, and that chap looks as though he might learn.”
[CHAPTER VIII]
THE LAST STRAW
Jack marked the first of April a red-letter day in his memory, for on that day he was taken on to the varsity nine as substitute. The fact was made known to him after practise when, with the others, he was dressing himself in the locker-house. The head coach appeared in their midst with a slip of paper and Jack listened indifferently until he heard his name spoken. Even then the absurd idea came to him that it was an April fool.