"Not necessarily. But I think it rather risky not to provide better than we have for a substitute pitcher. Evert is available, of course, but as he is a junior his studies are such that he can't devote the necessary time to practice. Parsons ought to be named." "Do you demand that in your official capacity as coach, Mr. Lighton?" asked Kindlings. "Because if you do, I'll agree to it at once." "No, I merely make that suggestion to you." The captain looked at the manager. Langridge stood with a supercilious smile on his face. "I presume I shall have something to say as manager," he remarked. "Certainly," admitted the coach gravely. "Then I say Parsons shan't act as substitute pitcher. I'm good for the season, and I'm going to play it out. I see his game. He wants to oust me and he's taken this means of doing it. He got you to plead for him, Mr. Lighton. I'll not stand for it." "You're entirely mistaken, Langridge," said the coach, with the least suspicion of annoyance in his even voice. "It is my own idea. Parsons does not even know that I have spoken to you; in fact, I believe that he would not allow me to." Langridge was sneering now. "I guess he would," he said. "Then you, as manager, don't want Parsons as substitute pitcher?" asked the coach. "No!" snapped Langridge. "Of course if you order it, Mr. Lighton," began honest Kindlings with an uneasy look at the coach--"of course if you make a point of it----" "No, I don't," and Mr. Lighton spoke quietly. "That was not my intention--just yet. Parsons will remain on the scrub then, at least for the present. Later I may--er--I may make a point of it," and he turned and walked away. CHAPTER XV A SOPHOMORE TRICK While knowing nothing of the efforts Coach Lighton was making in his behalf, Tom continued hard practice at his pitching. Every day he made some improvement until his friends on the scrub regarded him as a marvel. But, as if some mysterious whisper had come to Langridge, the latter also showed improvement. He spent more time in practice and at one game, when it looked as if the scrub would beat the 'varsity, chiefly due to Tom's fine pitching, Langridge saved the day by brilliant work in the box. The coach was pleased at this and Tom could not help feeling that his chances were farther away than ever. There were many other phases of college life, aside from baseball, that appealed to Tom. He liked his studies and he gave them more attention than perhaps any other lad of the sporting set. He was not a "greasy dig," by which was meant a student who burned midnight oil over his books, but he stood well in his classes, for learning came naturally to him.