“No, nothing much different,” was the answer as Tom pulled some boxes from a shelf. “You had one of these last year, didn’t you?” he continued, placing a glove on the counter. Foley examined it indifferently. “Yes, that’s like the one I’ve got now. I thought maybe there was something new on the market. How’s everything, Jack?” “Pretty good, Frank. My eyes are troubling me a bit, though.” “What’s the matter with them? They seemed all right at practice yesterday.” “I don’t know.” Jack gravely blinked. “They seem sort of weak. I guess it’s the glare that hurts them, Frank. You couldn’t turn your coat collar up, could you?” “Oh, that’s the idea?” said Foley calmly. “Don’t you like what I wear, Jack?” “Oh, I like it, all right, but my eyes sort of go back on me. What are you impersonating, Frank, a custard pie?” “You chaps have a lot of fun with my clothes, don’t you?” inquired Foley good-naturedly enough. “I don’t mind, though. I’d certainly hate to go around looking like a tramp, the way some of you do.” Foley seated himself on the counter, swinging his brightly-hued legs, and viewed Jack smilingly. “Any come-back to that?” he inquired. “There’s a come-back from me,” said Tom quietly. “Gentlemen will not, others must not, sit on the counters, Frank.” “Oh, all right; I’ll try to stand up a bit longer. I don’t believe you’ve got anything there I want, Tom.” He glanced unenthusiastically at the several gloves displayed. “I’ll use the one I’ve got. It went all right last year and I guess it’s still good.” “You won’t need a glove much this spring,” said the irrepressible Jack. “They’re not worn on the bench, Frank.” Foley winked untroubledly. “Don’t worry about me, old chap. I may not be any McInnes, you know, but I never noticed much resemblance between you and Tris Speaker. You watch out that you don’t keep that bench warm yourself.” “Frank, you know very well,” replied Jack severely, “that when it comes to playing baseball I’ve got it all over you. You’re not a bad first baseman when you’ve got time for it, but you know mighty well you can’t bat over a hundred. I like you, Frank; I appreciate your many fine qualities, and I just love your picturesqueness, but I don’t just see you holding down that first sack beyond the middle of March. I’m saying this to you so you won’t be too awfully disappointed when you lose your job.” “Thanks.” Foley laughed amusedly. “Just who is the coming wonder that gets my position, Jack? Is it Faulkner here? Is he telling you how good you are, Faulkner?” “He’s just talking,” replied Joe uncomfortably. “I’m not saying who it is, Frank,” said Jack. “There are two or three who look good to me in your place. I’d be sorry to see you go, though. I certainly do like you, Frank.” “Yes, you do――like poison,” responded Foley with a grin. “Tell you what I’ll do, Jack. I’ll bet you anything you like that I’ll play in more games――contests with outside teams, I mean――than you do this spring. Want to take that?”