“You trust Payson, old chap; he knows how much we’ll stand. I believe a good, hard workout was what we needed. I’m tired, but I know mighty well I’ll be feeling like a fighting cock in the morning. Just now, though, I’ll ’fess up that I’d like to be tumbled into a warm bath, have a good rubbing down and then be put to sleep to the strains of soft music. Who’s going to pitch to-morrow?”
“Servis is going to start,” replied Durfee. “Reid will relieve him in the fifth, I suppose, if he lasts that long. If we get a safe lead――which we aren’t likely to, I guess――Snow or Wallace will have a try-out in the last inning or two. I hope we’ll have as bully a day as Wednesday was.”
“So do I,” answered Alf. “I hate to try and play ball in a silly rainstorm, or with the thermometer flirting with the freezing point. No danger of that, though; it’s going to be fair and warm to-morrow. And we’re going to have a dandy old game with those Nordhamites, those Unbeaten Terrors of the Diamond!”
“Rather!” said Harry Durfee, grimly. “They’re going to give us the game of our lives!”
“Sure! And that’s what we’re going to give them,” replied Alf, cheerfully. “I hope to goodness I make a couple of hits to-morrow. I want to fatten my batting average a bit. It’s pretty lean so far this season.”
“Nobody’s been hitting decently yet,” returned Harry. “I haven’t done a thing, either. If it wasn’t for that last part of the Porter game, after the immortal Holmes went to the bad, we wouldn’t any of us have much to our credit in the batting line.”
“That was a cinch, wasn’t it?” he asked. “I suppose this pitcher of Nordham’s is pretty good, isn’t he?”
“Keswick? Of course. You remember him last year, don’t you? He was first substitute then. They put him in in the last four innings. We managed to touch him up a bit, but he’s a lot better this year. He had seven strike-outs in their game with Pell.”
“Yes, and has quite a few good things, they say. Well, here’s hoping we each get a couple of two-baggers, Alf.”
“Pshaw! Two-baggers? Make it a couple of homers while you’re wishing, Harry. It doesn’t cost any more. Well, me for the shower!”
Saturday promised to be an eventful day, for not only was the baseball game with Nordham Academy coming in the afternoon, but Mr. Bendix, who was a firm believer in the physical benefits to be derived from swimming and boating, had for a fortnight past been working up enthusiasm in what he called an Aquatic Carnival to be held on the river in the forenoon. What “Muscles” set his hand to he always accomplished, and in the present instance he had managed to get the school quite excited about his scheme. There were to be canoe races, swimming races, tub races, barrel races, diving contests, and an obstacle race for canoes which was a novelty of his own devising, and which promised to be both exciting and diverting. For a week past entrants had been practicing for the carnival, and every canoe in the boathouse had been requisitioned. Tom and Alf had entered in three events, and Dan and Paul Rand had also formed a partnership for the purpose of walking away with a few of the prizes. Tom and Alf owned their own canoe, but Dan and Paul had to hire one of the school fleet, and their craft proved to be much in need of repairs. Rand, who had more time on his hands than Dan, had been working over the canoe for two or three days, and Friday night he announced that “with good luck the silly thing would hold together for maybe a half-mile!”