As usual, Loring had Wattles push his chair to the end of the players’ bench, and as usual most of the fellows came to him sooner or later for a word or a chat. His score book, a leather-covered affair, lay on his knees, and a well-sharpened pencil protruded from a pocket. Learning to keep a score correctly was, he had discovered, not so easy, and he was still obliged to call on the official scorer for assistance. To-day he meant to go across to the other field after awhile and watch the second team’s game with Waterside and fill one more page of his book with neat little figures and symbols. As it turned out, however, he didn’t do just that, for by the time the second and its opponent had finished warming up and were ready to begin their delayed struggle Loring found himself in converse with Coach Connover and too interested to leave. Steve never appeared discomposed or even anxious, yet to-day Loring thought he could detect an undercurrent of concern in the coach’s casual discussion of the players and their work. But before that Steve made a suggestion that captured Loring’s interest at once. “Deane, you have two more years here, haven’t you?” asked the coach. “I thought so. Well, why don’t you compete next year for a manager’s job? It’s something you could easily attend to, and you’d like it, I know. Better consider it.” “Why, do you think――do you think I could, Mr. Connover?” gasped the boy. “You know I can’t get around very――very fast!” “Fast enough, I guess. You’ve got executive ability, Deane; plenty of it; which is more than most managers have. Of course the position of manager or assistant doesn’t earn a great deal of glory; you don’t stand in the limelight much; but it’s a lot more important than most folks believe, and a good manager is worth a lot to his team. Well, I think you could be a good manager, and I’d certainly like to see you try for it. I believe that right now you know a lot more baseball than any of the three fellows who are holding down the jobs this spring.” “Why, thanks,” murmured Loring, “but――gee, I don’t know! I couldn’t be better than an assistant year after next, could I?” “No, not in the ordinary course of events,” was the reply. “But an assistant, if he’s capable and has a head on him, is frequently of more real value than the manager himself. In fact, Deane, as you may have noticed, it’s the assistants who do most of the work! I wish I’d thought of it before, so you could have competed this year. But I didn’t know you so well, you see.” “I’d like awfully to try it,” said Loring eagerly. “You see, sir, there isn’t very much that I can do here; a fellow has to be able to get around a good deal, of course, if he tries for――for things; but if you think I’d be able to do that, supposing I succeeded in getting by, I’d love to try it.”