“I haven’t taken much interest in college baseball these late years,” admitted Harrison. “Been too busy. What position do you play?”
“Well, my boy, we’ll try to treat you gentle and kind to-morrow. It would be a shame to spoil your reputation all at once.”
“That’s very thoughtful,” laughed Dick. “Now, we’ll put up that forfeit with the hotel proprietor, with the understanding that it doesn’t stand if we can’t get the park for the game.”
“That I thought I could make arrangements with Charlie Loring. I do. I shall attend to that matter at once. Are you stopping at this hotel?”
“I’ll phone you as soon as I’ve secured the park.”
“O. K. I’ve got a lot of paper I’ll agree to scatter through this town, telling people just what sort of a team they’ll see if they come out for the game to-morrow.”
“And I’ll attend to the rest of the advertising.”
At the desk they called for the proprietor, who came forth, after a brief delay, from his private office. When the matter was explained he agreed to hold the forfeit money, which was placed in his hands.
As they were turning from the desk a lanky, hard-faced man with a hoarse, rasping voice approached and spoke to Harrison.
“What’s this about the game here?” he inquired. “I hear it’s off. If there’s no go to-morrow, I’ll run up to Denver this afternoon to visit an old partner of mine who’s playing on the Denver nine.”
“It looks now, Stover,” said Harrison, “as if there might be a game to-morrow, but not with the regular Springs team.”
The fellow with the harsh voice appeared decidedly displeased.
“I was counting on a lay-off,” he growled.
“You get lay-offs enough, Stover. Out in this country we don’t play more than four games a week at the most.”
“Well, when we’re not playing, we’re pounding around over four or five hundred miles of railroad at a jump.”
“Quit your growling. You have a snap, and you know it. Can’t you shake that grouch you’ve had for the last ten days?”
“What? Well, that will be a ripping old game! Them college kids can’t play baseball. They don’t know what it is.”
“Perhaps you’ll change your mind after to-morrow,” smiled Dick.
The fellow gave him a contemptuous stare.
“Oh, I reckon you’re one of the college guys.”
“He’s the manager of the team,” explained Harrison.