Sallie’s remark about her brother’s absorption in his nine might have been applied with equal truth to every boy in the Parker School. When any of them met, the playing of the team was the one topic of conversation, especially since, under Phil’s leadership, there was the possibility of the interscholastic championship coming to Parker School, an honour which had not been attained for almost ten years.
It was but natural, therefore, that, with the captain of the team as their companion, the boys should deluge him with questions, and they did.
“Honestly now, Phil, do you think Parker can beat Mercer Academy?” asked one of them. “If our pitchers work well, we ought to.”
“If our pitchers work well,” repeated another, in amazement. “What’s the matter with you, Phil? Aren’t you the best pitcher in the school league, according to the coaches? Why, you did the most of the work last season and you’ve done all of it, practically, this year. And then you say if our pitchers go well we may win.”
“What’s up, anyhow?” demanded several of the others, astounded at the words of their captain.
“There’s going to be a change in the team,” replied Phil, quietly.
This statement elicited a veritable avalanche of comment and questions, but to them all the captain of the team would make no reply except to tell them to wait and see.
This answer was so unsatisfactory, serving as it did only to whet their curiosity the more, that finally Phil broke away from his companions and hurried ahead to join the girls. Yet no sooner had he caught up with them than he wished he had remained behind.
“Hello, Farmer Phil!” cried several of them, as they caught sight of the popular pitcher. “How’s crops? What’s the latest quotation on wheat?”
For the moment he thought to rebuke his sisters for disclosing the plan which he had intended to keep secret, at least until he should announce it on the morrow to his team-mates.