ON THE BENCH
But Wade’s hope was not realized. Jeff and Rabbit Warren and Cas Gorham
were among the substitutes whose names appeared on the bulletin board
with the regular team the next morning. Of course, Honey Wiggins and
Cy Gordon, the two extra pitchers, were also among the second string
men called into uniform, but their names along with those of Jeff,
Rabbit and Cas Gorham, appeared very definitely under the list of
“substitutes.” For some reason Jeff had a feeling of discouragement
when he realized that Coach Rice did not yet recognize him as having
first-team ability and for a few minutes he was inclined to grouch
and feel peeved about it. But his better sense soon dominated the
situation and made him realize that he, a Freshman, should be listed
as a substitute and Gould given the position at third if for no other
reason than that the Sophomore had devoted all the previous season
toward trying for the job, and evidently had been willing to play on
the scrubs for an extended period just to be in line for the job this
year.
“Gould is good,” he acknowledged to himself, as he stood in front of
the bulletin board and mentally disciplined himself. “Just because he
is hot tempered and ugly; just because I do not think so much of him
and most of the fellows of our bunch don’t like him is no reason why
he shouldn’t be playing third base. For a while the best I can expect,
I guess, is to be a sub on the big team and just hope to get a show
once in a while. I’ll bet just hanging around like that is going to get
Gould’s goat. Blame it, I want his job and, believe me, I’m going to
make myself so good that Coach Rice will have to give me more than a
substitute’s show. I’ll just――”
“Wow, I knew you’d get a chance, first shot,” said some one behind
Jeff, and turning he discovered Wade looking at the bulletin board.
“Knew I’d get a chance? What do you mean?” asked Jeff.
“Why, you poor fish, don’t you see your name on the list?”
“Yes, I see it there. But look just above it. See that word. It reads
s-u-b-s-t-i-t-u-t-e. Can’t you read?”
“Well, what does the young man want? Does he want to be crown prince or
emperor or what? My goodness, Jeff, it’s something to be in uniform and
on the bench. I think if you get that far you’ll get a chance in the
game. Anyhow, you are making progress.”
“I suppose I do want too much. But look at you, you lucky duck. Make
the first team right off.”
“Well, that’s a combination of luck and circumstances. If Dave Gleason
hadn’t pulled a tendon and if the rest of the fellows out for fielding
positions were just a little more lucky I’d be warming the bench this
afternoon myself. Just luck, old kid, and I’m afraid that it won’t
last any too long. Rabbit Warren is moving along too fast to make me
very happy. First thing I know they will bench me and shove him in. I
wouldn’t be surprised if it happened to-day. I bet you and Rabbit will
get a show before the game is over. So will Honey Wiggins.”
But Wade’s prediction was only partly right. Honey Wiggins did get a
chance. Coach Rice put him in in the seventh inning because he did not
want George Dixon to go the entire route and possibly strain his arm.
But Honey was the only one of the five substitutes who did get a chance.
Gould played an air-tight game, fielding one hundred per cent and
getting two hits out of five times up, and drawing a pass once. Whether
the presence of Jeff inspired him to do great deeds just to show the
aggressive Freshman that he hadn’t a chance in the world for the job,
or whether he was improving so steadily that he was fast reaching the
top of his form Jeff could not guess, but certainly he played brilliant
and heady ball in every inning but the ninth. His success seemed to
make him more cocky than ever then, and he all but started a fight
with the man on the Erasmus Hall coaching line. They exchanged words
that fairly made the air sizzle with their sharpness, and Gould was
all for fighting it out there and then until Umpire Stephens came over
and stopped the argument with a threat to put both Gould and the other
offending player off the field if they did not hold their tongues.
On the bench, beside Mr. Rice, Jeff could see that Gould’s nastiness
did not please the coach at all. He frowned and looked very much
displeased while the argument was taking place, and Jeff heard him
remark to Mr. Clarkson:
“That’s the worst of that boy. He’s mean clear through sometimes. If it
wasn’t that he deserved a chance, and that he is a fair enough third
baseman I’d throw him out of the squad. I’d yank him out now if the
game wasn’t so nearly finished, just to show him that I will not stand
for fresh players on a Pennington team.”
But the inning closed with the next out and that was the end of that,
and Jeff and Rabbit and Cas Gorham wended their way to the locker room
more or less discouraged with their luck.
On their way across the campus Jeff noticed a boy coming slowly out of
the infirmary door. He was bundled in a heavy coat despite the pleasant
spring warmth of the day, and he looked thin and hollow-eyed. Jeff had
to look at him twice before he recognized him.
“Well, hello,” he exclaimed, “if it isn’t Birdie Pell. Up and around
now, eh?”
“Yes, up, but not very much around. I feel as weak as the dickens and I
can’t go very far or do very much without getting disgustingly tired
out. I wanted to get over and see the game to-day but Dr. Stout would
not let me. Said I would have to be content with just strolling in the
sunshine for a week or so before I get on my feet again. How did the
game turn out?”
“Oh, we trimmed ’em, 8 to 5, but it was a good game at that. They have
a whale of a pitcher in Jack Sibley. Long, lean southpaw who can make
a ball do most anything. He had our fellows buffaloed for about four
innings. Then they got to him in the fifth and hammered out five runs
before he steadied down. I guess they did not have another man to put
in in his place or they would have derricked him. They have a good team
though. A little ragged in spots and that’s about the only reason why
we beat them. When they get in mid-season form they are going to be
some team, let me tell you. I believe they will be able to give the
Princeton Freshmen a rub. They play each other some time in May.”
“Did you play?” Pell asked, and there was something about the question
that made Jeff wonder just what the little Sophomore was thinking.
“No, I was on the bench. So was Rabbit and Cas here. Gould played third
and played a dandy game,” said Jeff, generously giving his rival full
credit.
Pell looked at Jeff quizzically for a moment. Then he said:
“Shucks, I’d love to have seen the game. But I may see the Sweetwater
game next Saturday if I am good and get back some strength.”
“Hope you do,” said Jeff moving on to catch up to Rabbit and Cas.
“Pell looks as if he had had a tough time of it, doesn’t he?” said Cas.
“Seems to have changed a heap, too,” said Rabbit Warren. “He used to
be a blamed fresh kid, always hanging out with Gould. They made a
fine pair. I think Pell has been flattered by the companionship of
Gould and, believe me, Gould has been just wise enough to work little
Birdie for all he is worth. I wonder if they are as thick as they were?
Haven’t noticed Gould wearing a path to the infirmary door visiting
Birdie, have you?”
“No,” admitted Cas Gorham, “and I think Birdie realizes, too, that
Gould isn’t such a great friend as he pretends to be. I think it sort
of hurts his pride or something or other. He seems different. Isn’t as
cocky or fresh as he used to be when he teamed up with Gould. Used to
be a regular blamed pest; fresh as they make ’em.”
“Oh, don’t fret, they’ll be back together again. Birds of a feather,
you know. Pell’s close call has taken some of the wind out of his
sails, but I’ll bet he’ll be just as fresh as ever once he gets on his
feet again and gets his running mate Gould along with him,” said Rabbit
Warren skeptically.
“Well, now I don’t know about that,” defended Jeff. “Gould didn’t even
lend a hand when Pell was in that pickle down in the locker room. Buck
Hart and I had most of the disagreeable work to do. Not that the rest
of you fellows didn’t want to lend a hand and didn’t offer to help out
all you could. That was all right. But why didn’t his good friend Gould
look after him? I think Pell, as sick as he was, noticed that Gould had
gone back on him and I’m inclined to think he’s through.”
“Oh, don’t you fret. You just wait and see if I’m not right. When Pell
gets around again his freshness will all come back, and when he gets
that way Gould is about the only fellow in school who will stand for
him.”
“I wonder if Pell is naturally a pest or whether his association with
Gould made him so. I mean by that, Gould is a fresh duck himself and
I’m half inclined to believe that Birdie Pell has just aped Gould all
the way. Tried to be as big and as boastful as his pal. I wouldn’t
wonder but that if Pell got to traveling in decent company he’d be a
fair sort of a fellow himself.”
“Well, maybe you are right,” said Rabbit, “but you’ll have to show me.
I can’t believe it until I see it work out that way. And one thing,
I won’t take the little pest under my wing to try and make a regular
fellow out of him. It would be too much of a contract, let me tell you.”
For some strange reason after he returned to his room that night Jeff
thought a great deal about Birdie Pell and what Rabbit Warren and Cas
Gorham had said concerning him. He wondered after all whether they
were right or whether he was right in thinking that perhaps Pell was
a likeable sort of fellow if he once got out of the company of Gould.
He was half inclined to believe that he was more right than either of
the other two boys, but he realized that he was hardly in a position
to provide the right sort of company for Pell since he was a Freshman
and Pell was a Sophomore. Pell would naturally chum with the Sophomore
bunch and probably held the same ideas about Freshmen that the rest of
the Sophs did. Jeff, however, decided to watch developments in Pell. He
even went so far as to contemplate approaching Dal Hoffman and several
other Sophomores whom he knew more or less intimately and liked because
they were good wholesome fellows, suggesting perhaps that if they
were willing to tolerate Pell’s company for a little while they might
develop him into a regular fellow and a worth-while sort of a chap.