Joe Perkins looked disgusted whenever he walked to the bench, and the expression on the countenance of Hanson, the head coach, was one of bewilderment. “It’s simply wonderful!” Jack heard him confide to Joe. “I don’t see how they do it. I can understand how they can muff every other ball, say; but the whole-souled manner in which they let every one slide through their fingers is marvelous!” And Joe had smiled weakly and turned away.
When the men trotted out for the beginning of the seventh, Jack slid along the bench to where Patterson, the team’s manager, was scowling over the score-book. Jack had never spoken to Patterson, and a week ago he would have hesitated a long while before risking a snub by doing so. But since his return from his “visit” with Professor White the treatment he had received from the other members of the team had been so decent that he was ceasing to look upon himself as a Pariah and was regaining some degree of assurance. He studied the book over the manager’s shoulder a moment. Then he asked:
“Pretty poor, isn’t it? Do you think Perkins will put any more subs in?”
Patterson glanced around with a flicker of surprise in his eyes. But his answer was friendly enough:
“I don’t know what he’ll do. But if the subs can play any better than the men he’s got in there he’d better give ’em a chance. Where do you play?”
“Almost anywhere, I guess. They’ve had me at left-field, right-field, and second base. I guess I’ll be in the outfield if I get in at all.”
“You’d better go out there and help Northup,” said the manager, as he credited Motter, at first base, with his third error. “I don’t suppose it matters much whether High School scores or not; only I would like to see Erskine have a clean record this year. And to get scored on in the first game looks pretty rotten. Who made that assist?”
“Stiles. Can’t Gilberth pitch better than he’s doing to-day?”
“Of course he can. He’s all right when he tries; he evidently thinks this game isn’t worth while. But I’ll wager that Hanson will have something to say to him afterward. Side’s out. Stiles at bat!”