pitcher, but I guess now the reason for that may have been that the others were rotten batsmen."
"There's something in that," admitted Sid judicially. 'You see, things are peculiar here. Now take Langridge. Nobody, unless it's Kerr and a few others, cares much about him. Yet he's a fairly consistent pitcher, and he's the best they've had in some years, they tell me. Now our college has had rather hard luck on the diamond, especially in the Tonoka Lake League. There was a better chance of winning the championship last year than in any previous one, but we didn't make good. It wasn't altogether Langridge's fault. He didn't have very good support, I'm told. Now they've decided to keep him on, or, rather he's engineered things so that, as manager, he keeps himself on. And there are some hopes of pulling out somewhere in the lead of the league this season. But Langridge is his own best friend."
"And he keeps me from pitching on the Varsity," said Tom somewhat bitterly.
"Can you blame him?'
"No, I don't know that I can," was the frank answer. "I s'pose I'd do the same thing. But I hope in time to be a better pitcher than he is."
"How are you coming on with the coach?"
"Fine. Mr. Lighten has given me some good pointers, and I needed them. My curves are all
