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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Peg," he said, quietly, "I'm as bad as some of 'em fat-head directors.... You see I didn't have no kind of a pitcher to work on this spring. I kept on hopin'. Strange why I didn't quit. And now my boy, you're a kid, but you're a natural born pitcher." Arthurs returned to the diamond and called the squad around him. He might have been another coach from the change that was manifest in him.
Ken had lately revolved in his mind a persistent idea that he meant to propound to the coach. Ken arrived on the field a little later than usual, to find Arthurs for once minus his worried look. He was actually smiling, and Ken soon saw the reason for this remarkable change was the presence of a new player out in centre field. "Hello, Peg! things are lookin' up," said the coach, beaming.
Coach Arthurs was ill at ease. He evidently knew students, and he did not relish the mystery, the hidden meaning. "Say, you wise guys make me sick," he called out, gruffly. "Here's a kid that comes right among you. He's on the level, and more'n that, he's game! Now, Cap, I fetched him here, and I won't stand for a whole lot. Get up on your toes! Get it over!"
The Vicereine had come from Dublin to cut the ribbon which would release the great ship and send it moving like a swan down the greasy slips into the river; and Tom Arthurs had conducted her through the Yard, telling her of the purpose of this machine and that engine until the poor lady began to be dubious of her capacity to launch the liner.
It was reported about the campus that Murray and Arthurs and Dale, with the whole team, went to the directors of the athletic faculty and besought them to change or modify the decision. Both the trainer and the coach, who had brought such glory to the university, threatened to resign their places.
And thenne they sterte up bothe, and pulled oute their swerdys, * And so they went egrely to the battaille, and gaf many grete strokes, but alweyes Arthurs swerd bote not like Accolon's swerd. But for the most party euery stroke that Accolon gaf he wounded sore Arthur, that it was merucylle he stode. And alweyes his blood fylle from him fast.
Graves had lost his smile and wore an expression of sickly surprise. The third ball travelled by him and cracked in Dean's mitt, and Arthurs called it a strike. "Easy there that'll do!" yelled the coach. "Come in here, Peg. Out on the field now, boys." Homans stopped Ken as they were passing each other, and Ken felt himself under the scrutiny of clear gray eyes.
Peg," said the coach, "I'm going your way." Ken walked along feeling Arthurs' glance upon him, but he was ashamed to raise his head. "Peg, you were up in the air to-day way off you lost your nut." He spoke kindly and put his hand on Ken's arm. Ken looked up to see that the coach's face was pale and tired, with the characteristic worried look more marked than usual.
He left Reddy's room all in a quiver of warm pleasure and friendliness at the great sprinter's quiet praise and advice. To make such a friend was worth losing a hundred friends like Graves. He dismissed the third-baseman and his scheming from mind, and believed Reddy as he had believed Arthurs.
Presently Arthurs came back to help him along, and did not speak until they were clear of the campus and going down Ken's street. "I'm glad that's over," said Worry. "I kicked against havin' the game, but 'em fat-head directors would have it. Now we'll be let alone. There won't be no students comin' out to the field, and I'm blamed glad." Ken was sick and smarting with pain, and half crying.
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