So they parted, Poole to visit the Principal and receive confirmation
of Jenks's story, Owen to return to his room and upbraid himself for
boasting about Patterson. He felt all the confidence in his protégé
that his words implied, but he had no desire to see his pitcher taken
from his hands and turned over to Borland as Carle had been. When
Patterson was tried out he wanted to be on hand to support him and keep
him up to his best; likewise to receive a just share of the glory of
the achievement, should the achievement prove glorious--but of this he
tried not to think.
Borland's task during the short spring recess was not what he had
imagined it when he had said good-by to his admiring friends, sharing
sincerely in their belief that he was to constitute at least one-half
of the best battery that the school had ever possessed. Instead,
he found himself doomed to partake of the disgrace of O'Connell's
failures. And alas! it was the same old O'Connell, conceited,
obstinate, uncertain as a primitive blunderbuss! He did indeed take
seriously the new responsibility devolving upon him through the
departure of Carle; he really meant to do everything within his
power to "make good." He laid aside the airs of superiority and
self-satisfaction which had been so offensive to Owen; he was not
unwilling to consider Borland's advice; he endeavored to keep his
inflammable temper well shielded from stray sparks. Unfortunately,
however, he was not by nature teachable, nor was Borland a wise
instructor. When two drops in succession landed on the plate, Borland
would protest and O'Connell promise to do better. When, a little later,
O'Connell would persist in shooting his high ones at the batsman's
head, or throwing ridiculous outs that showed themselves clearly wide
long before they came within reach of the bat, Borland would reprove
sharply, O'Connell retort with asperity, Borland sputter and growl,
O'Connell drop all fire protection and let his temper blaze away!
Whether peace was patched up immediately or not, that day's practice
was ruined.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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