he is kept on the team when there's a chance of our losing the pennant."
"Neither would I. Maybe I'm wrong about the coach, but what's the use of saying anything? Langridge will pitch for us against Boxer Hall, and—no, I'll not say what I was going to. I believe if we lose that game there'll be such a howl that he won't dare pitch against Fairview. That will give you a chance, Tom, for the last game of the season."
"What about Evert?"
"Oh, he's practically out of it. He hasn't had any practice to speak of and wouldn't last two minutes. You're in good trim. You did some great work on the scrub yesterday."
"Yes, but it's not likely to amount to anything. However, I'm going along and root for you tomorrow."
"Yes, we'll need all the support we can get. I declare I'm as nervous as a girl, and I've got to buckle down and prepare for a Latin exam, too."
"Can't you let it go?"
"No, it's too risky. I'm only on the team now by the epidermis of my molars, as the poet says. If I flunk in Latin it will mean that I can't play against Fairview."
"Then don't flunk, for the team needs you."
"It needs more than me, but I'm going to try and forget it now and bone away."
