“S’pose so,” answered Anthony doubtfully. “But I don’t know a blamed thing about baseball.”
“You won’t have to. We’ve got plenty of chaps who can talk baseball; what we want is some one who can open their pockets. We’re depending on you, Tidball, so say yes, like a good chap. Hanson is going to speak, and so is Professor Nast, and so am I. And we’re trying to get the dean to hem and haw a bit for us. But we need you like anything. What do you say?”
“I’ll do what I can,” said Anthony. “You let me know when it’s to be and tell me what you want me to say. Don’t believe, though, Perkins, the fellows will pay much attention to what I’ve got to say about baseball. ’Tisn’t as though I knew a ball from a—a——”
“From another ball, eh? Don’t let that bother you. I’m awfully much obliged; it’s very nice of you. And I’ll let you know all about it in a day or two. By the way, though, where are you living now? Some one said you’d left the old joint.”
“Yes, I had to when Gooch went home. I’m at Mrs. Dorlon’s, down the row there.”
“Oh, are you? I was just going there. Doesn’t young Weatherby room there?”
“Yes.”
“Is he in now, do you know?”
Anthony settled his spectacles more firmly on his nose before he replied.