“Well, I wish you could.” Mr. Cummings was frowningly silent for awhile. Pete Farrar--a long, rangy, and somewhat seedy youth of seventeen--was in the box for the school nine. He had an eccentric “wind-up” that included whirling his right arm around at the shoulder several times like a wind-mill. But most of the effort went into the “wind-up” and not enough, it seemed, into the delivery. At any rate, his performance that afternoon was pretty poor. He passed the first man up in the first half of the third and was hit for a two-bagger by the second. The scrubs got two runs across in that inning. Tom concluded that he liked the scrubs’ pitcher better. He was a youngster named Moran who, if he put on less “side,” seemed to have far better control. But perhaps, Tom charitably added to himself, this was an off-day with Farrar. As the teams changed places again Captain Warner went to bat. Mr. Cummings broke a long silence. “Tom,” he said, “couldn’t we fix it somehow so you could play ball? How many games do they play a week?” “Usually two, sir.” “Well, don’t it seem as if you could get off two afternoons?” “I’m afraid that wouldn’t do any good, sir, because, you see, I’d have to practise with the team if I was to play on it. I guess there isn’t any way I could play, Mr. Cummings, unless I was to quit working, and I couldn’t afford to do that.” “How much practice would it take?” persisted Mr. Cummings. “I don’t know, sir.” “Well, it seems to me that, if these chaps need you as badly as they say they do, it’s a shame you can’t play. And I’m going to see if we can’t fix it somehow, Tom. I suppose Horace will think I’m crazy, though,” he added half aloud. “I don’t mind not playing, sir,” Tom assured him. “And--and I wouldn’t feel right, anyway, about letting you pay me wages and then not being there.” “Humph!” said Mr. Cummings. “I guess it wouldn’t break us. Who’s this coming?” “Sidney Morris, sir. Oh, that’s Mr. Talbot with him!” “Thought so. Looks as if they were coming here, don’t it?” It did, and in a moment Sidney was introducing the coach to Mr. Cummings. Tom realised then that Sidney had brought Mr. Talbot over for a purpose. And the purpose was not long in declaring itself. There was a minute of polite conversation between the two men and then the coach got down to business. “Mr. Cummings,” he asked, “isn’t there some way by which we can get the services of Tom Pollock here? We need him pretty badly on the team. We’re in a regular hole as far as pitching goes. Of course I realise that he’s working for you and that you need him at your store, but it seems to me that in some way or other we might arrange things so he could pitch for us at least occasionally. We might not need him all the time. If he could pitch, say, one game a week, it would be a big thing for the school.”