“Hiram Black,
“Captain Jamestown B. B. Nine.”
A chorus of cheers and cat-calls broke out immediately on the conclusion of the challenge; but Randolph raised his hand once more.
“The question is, Shall we accept? Those in favor say ‘Aye!’”
A tremendous shout rent the air.
“Those opposed, ‘No!’”
Dead silence.
“It is a vote. Now for positions and players.”
So far, there had been no dispute as to Randolph’s authority. He had such a pleasant way of getting on with the boys that they followed his lead willingly.
When they came to the choice of positions, however, there was a little more feeling. As to first, second and third base, the matter was easy enough. There were two fellows who played shortstop well, but they were warm friends, and each was ready to yield to the other.
Dick Manning was acknowledged to be the best pitcher in town, having a “drop twist” which he had gained by days of practice, at odd moments, behind his father’s barn, and upon which he greatly prided himself in a modest way.