Weatherby's Inning: A Story of College Life and Baseball

  CHAPTER IV

  CATCHER AND PITCHER

  "Well, it wasn't such a bad showing, was it?"

  Joe Perkins tossed his purple cap adorned with a white E on to thetable and threw himself among the cushions of the window-seat in themanner of one who has earned his rest. He was a jovial-looking fellowof medium height, rather inclined toward stoutness. His hair wasundeniably red, and despite that his features were good, none wouldhave called him handsome. But his blue eyes were alert and his mouthfirm. He had the quick temper popularly believed to accompany red hair,but it was well under control, and Joe's usual appearance was one ofextreme good nature. He was popular, perhaps the most popular fellowin college, and he knew it, and was not spoiled by the knowledge. Hisfriends believed in him and he believed in himself. Perhaps it wasthe latter fact that made him such a wonderful leader. Ever since hisfreshman year he had been among the foremost in all college affairs.Last spring, after the disastrous 7--0 baseball game with Robinson,the selection of Joe, whose catching had been a feature of the contest,as captain, was unanimous and enthusiastic, and the supporters of thePurple, mourning overwhelming defeat, felt their sorrow lightened bythe knowledge that Joe Perkins, in accepting the office, had pledgedhimself to retrieve Erskine's lost prestige on the diamond. The wholecollege firmly believed that what Joe Perkins promised he would perform.

  Joe's companion was Tracy Gilberth. Like Joe, he was a seniorand a member of the nine. Unlike Joe, he did not impress one asbeing particularly good-natured; nor did he resemble that youth inappearance. He had straight dark hair and black eyes. His cheeks wereruddy and his mouth straight and thin. He was of middle height andweight, and pitched the best ball of any man in college. In age hewas a year Joe's senior, being twenty-three. He had none of the otherman's popularity, although he was not disliked. Acquaintances suspectedhim of arrogance; in talking he had a tone that sounded patronizingto those not used to it. His parents were immensely wealthy; rumorcredited his father with being a millionaire several times over. At allevents, Tracy had the most luxuriously furnished rooms at Erskine, andspent more money than the rest of his class put together.

  At the present moment he was sitting in Joe's Morris chair with hishands in his pockets and his golf-stockinged legs sprawled before him.He replied to Joe's question with a negligent nod that might havemeant either assent or denial. Joe took it to express the former, andcontinued:

  "A heap better than last year, anyhow. Thirty candidates at this timeof year means sixty when we get outdoors."

  "Yes, but it isn't quantity that counts, Joe," said Tracy. "Look at thesort of greenies you had to-day. I'll bet there isn't a decent playeramong them, outside of the few last-year men that were there. If I werecaptain I'd rather have fifteen good players than fifty would-bes."

  "You're an awful croaker, Tracy. For goodness' sake, let me behappy while I can. To-morrow I shall be quite ready to believe thatto-day's bunch is merely a lot of hopeless idiots; but this evening Iam an optimist; I see phenomenal pitchers, star catchers, wonderfulfirst-basemen, in short, an aggregation of brilliant players destinedto wipe Robinson off the face of the earth. Leave me to my dreams, oldman."

  "All right; only when you wake up you'll find you've fallen out ofbed," answered Tracy. "Have you heard from Hanson?"

  "Yes, he's coming up Wednesday to look around."

  "I hope he'll like what he sees," said Tracy, grimly. "I supposeyou saw that fellow Weatherby there to-day? That chap must have thesensibilities of a goat. Think of his having the cheek to show up inthe cage as a baseball candidate after what happened Friday! Why, if Iwere he I wouldn't have the courage to show my face outside of my room.Not a fellow spoke to him to-day, but he didn't seem to mind a bit."

  "I spoke to him," said Joe.

  "Oh, you had to!"

  "And I think you're mistaken about his not caring. He kept a prettystiff upper lip, but I have a hunch that he wasn't happy."

  "Happy! I should say not. If he expects to be happy as long as he staysat Erskine he's going to be awfully fooled. The chap ought to be drivenout of college."

  "It's an unfortunate affair," answered Joe dispassionately, "and Idon't pretend to understand it. But I must confess that I'm a bit sorryfor the chap. It may just be that there was some reason for his notgoing in after that boy. Maybe he got rattled; you can't tell."

  "Oh, poppycock! Maybe he was blind or asleep! Why didn't he spunk up,then, and say something? He just walked off with his head in the air,as proud as you please, without a word. The plain fact of the matter isthat he's a coward clean through."

  "Well--but if he is, why did he report to-day? Seems to me that tooksomething a good deal like courage. He knows plaguy well what thecollege thinks of him. Great Scott, if I had been in his boots I'd nomore have thought of coming there among all those fellows----!"

  "That's what I say. He's got just about the same sensibilities as abilly-goat. I dare say he's rather proud of himself. But don't youworry, Joe, you won't be troubled with him long; we'll soon show himthat the baseball team doesn't want cowards. You leave him to us, oldman."

  "No, you don't, Tracy; you leave him to me. I'm bossing this outfit,and I'm quite capable of getting rid of any one I don't want. Thefellow says he can play ball, and it's fellows who can play ball thatI'm after, and not life-saving heroes."

  Tracy stared across at his friend in disgust.

  "Well, I can tell you one thing, Joe, and that is that you'll find thatthere will be lots of fellows who simply won't go on to the team if youkeep Weatherby; and one of 'em's me!"

  "Nonsense," answered the other, quite undisturbed. "Your preciousmorals aren't going to be hurt by playing on the same acre of greengrass as Weatherby. Nor by sitting at the same table with him, for thatmatter. At any rate, don't get excited yet; it's a fair guess thatWeatherby doesn't know enough about the game to make the team. Butas long as he's trying for it I won't have him bullied." Joe sat upsuddenly and punched a purple and white cushion viciously. "I tell youcandidly, old man, I'm going to turn out a winning team this spring,and just as long as a fellow plays good ball and does as he's told, Idon't give a continental if he's ostracized by the whole State! I gavemy solemn word to Tom Higgins last year, after the game, that I'd winfrom Robinson, and I'm going to keep that promise!"

  "I'll never forget old Tom that day. The poor duffer was crying like ababy all the way back to the yard. 'You'll be captain, Joe,' he said,'and you've got to promise to wipe this out. You've got to give meyour word of honor, Joe.' 'I'll do everything that I can, Tom,' saidI. And we shook hands on it. 'If you don't beat them next year, Joe,'he blubbered, 'I'll come back here and I'll lick you until you can'tstand. I swear I will!' And he would, too," laughed Joe.

  "That's all well enough," answered Tracy, "but you don't want to go toofar, Joe; the fellows won't stand everything even from you."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, there's lots of 'em now who think you've made a mistake inchoosing Hanson for coach; you know that. They say that Hanson losteverything when he was captain three years ago, and that year beforelast, when he coached, we lost again. They think you should have got acoach who had something to show. And now if you insist on putting it onto the fellows with this coward, Weatherby, you'll have to look out forsqualls."

  "Good stuff!" Joe's blue eyes sparkled, and his mouth set itselfstraightly. "I'm open to all the squalls that come my way. I likesqualls. And when they've blown over the other chaps may be surprisedto find that they're a considerable distance from the scene ofoperations. Oh, no, my boy, you can't scare me by talking that way! Iknow what the fellows said--some of them, that is--about my selectingHanson, and I don't give a continental. Hanson is all right. Whenhe was captain here he had the poorest lot of players that any manever had to contend with; anybody who was in college will tell youthat. They couldn't field and they couldn't bat; the only thing theycould do was kick; they kicked about the schedule, and they kickedabout the amount of work they had to do, and they kicked abou
t thetraining-table. Nobody on earth could have won with that team. As foryear before last, Hanson coached and we didn't win, I know. We didn'twin last year, for that matter, but nobody lays the blame on the coach.Hanson is all right. He knows the game all through; he's a gentleman,and he gives every minute of his time to the team. The best judge ofwhether what I say is true is 'Baldy' Simson. You go and ask 'Baldy,'and if he doesn't tell you the same thing I'll eat my hat. And when youhear a trainer say that a coach is all right, there's something in it."

  "Oh, well, I don't know much about it myself! I'm only saying what thefellows in general think, Joe."

  "I know; there's no harm done. Only, if there are any squalls, Tracy,you take your friends and get into a cellar somewhere until they'veblown over," said Joe suggestively.

  "Oh, I'm not scared!" Tracy replied, laughing uneasily. "I'll stand byyou."

  "All right," answered Joe gravely. "That'll be safest."

  There came a knock at the door, and Joe shouted, "Come in!" Whenhe saw who his caller was he arose from the window-seat and steppedforward.

  "How are you, Weatherby? Want to see me?"

  "Yes, if you have a minute to spare." Jack looked calmly at theoccupant of the Morris chair, and Joe understood.

  "Certainly," he answered. "Sit down." Then, "I don't like to put youout, old man," he said, turning to Tracy, who had so far made no movetoward withdrawing, "but I guess I'll have to ask you to excuse me amoment."

  "That's all right," replied Tracy, lazily pulling himself out of hisseat and staring insolently at the newcomer. "I'm a bit particular,anyway." He lounged to the door, carefully avoiding contact with Jack."See you in the morning," he added. "So long."

  When the door had closed, Joe glanced at the caller, instinctivelyframing an apology for the insult. But Jack's countenance gave noindication that he had even heard it. Joe marveled and pointed to achair.

  "Sit down, won't you?" he asked politely.

  The other shook his head.

  "No, thanks. What I've got to say will take but a minute," he answeredcalmly.