“A good deal of it. You see his father backs up the boy in everything, and he has put the club on its feet financially, in a bigger way than even the Guilford team. Moreover, the elder Siebold’s money built our grandstand, the dressing-rooms and hired our pitchers for quite a while. So young Siebold can afford to play politics and insure a following, which nobody, even the professors, can stop. And the faculty and the Doctor don’t bother over the matter. That chap is going to be a state senator, or a Congressman some day, I have no doubt.”
“It won’t work, though, Mr. Gay,” declared Bill, “because it isn’t justice. Others besides Siebold are interested in and loyal to the school. We want to see our team win, don’t we?”
“Yes, of course. I’m going to shoot that at Siebold and, if you’ll let me, I’m going to hint that we have a pitcher among us who outranks his choice in all the high points.”
It was on the next afternoon, which was rainy, that Bill found the library pretty full of readers and among them were six or seven of the ball team. He took a seat beside Dixon and directly across the table from Siebold and Sadler. He turned to Dixon:
“When is the next ball game?” he asked.
“We play Springdale next Saturday, but they’re easy. The last game with Guilford is Saturday week.”
“It’s too bad that we get licked so unmercifully when there’s no need for it,” Bill remarked.
“No need for it? No, there’s no need for it, but——”
“I suppose we have needed it to put some sense into us, but no longer. It would be pretty easy to clean that bunch if we went at it right.”
“How easy?” asked Dixon.