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Updated: May 7, 2025
He was a fair-haired, clean-cut young fellow, and his voice rang pleasantly. "Guilty," replied Wayne. "My name's Huling. I'm captain of the Salisbury nine. Just learned you were in town and are going to pitch against us tomorrow. Won't you walk out into the grounds with me now? You might want to warm up a little." "Thank you, yes, I will. Guess I won't need my suit.
In fact, most of the players of his team showed rather poor form; they were overstrained, and plainly lacked experience necessary for steadiness in an important game. Burns, the catcher, however, gave Wayne confidence. He was a short, sturdy youngster, with all the earmarks of a coming star. Huling, the captain, handled himself well at first base.
But how immeasurable was the distance between the shy consent to wear Yale blue, and the pale, surprised agreement to his second proposal! Wayne experienced a strange sensation of personal loss. While he endeavored to find his tongue, Miss Huling spoke to one of the boys standing near, and he started off on a run for the field.
The bright green oval was surrounded by a glittering mass of white and blue and black. Out along the foul lines were carriages, motors, and tally-hos, brilliant with waving fans and flags. Over the field murmured the low hum of many voices. "Here you are!" cried Huling, making a grab for Wayne. "Where were you this morning? We couldn't find you. Come!
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