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Updated: June 1, 2025
I wonder why?" Outfield stopped suddenly and frowned perplexedly. "Why, a month or six weeks ago I would have been one of the first they would have asked to help! I'm afraid it's associating with you, Joel. You're corrupting me! Say, didn't I make a mess of it this afternoon? I got about ten yards off the beach and just had to give up and pull back and pull hard.
And then, as though scorning to remain in his presence, the place emptied as though by magic, and he was left with burning cheeks to eat his breakfast in solitude. Joel and Outfield were publicly thanked and commended by the principal, and every master had a handshake and a kind and earnest word for them.
In August Outfield West descended at the little station accompanied by two trunks, a golf-bag, a photograph camera, and a dress-suit case; and Farmer March regarded the pile of luggage apprehensively, and undoubtedly thought many unflattering thoughts of West.
It meant more to me, I believe, than it did to even you fellows. I'm going Thursday next. Come and see me before then if you can. Good-night." When the door had closed Outfield shouted, "Hurrah!" in three different keys and pirouetted about the room. "It's all fixed, Joel. Welcome to Hampton, my lad! Welcome to the classic shades of Donothing Hall!
The result is a vast increase in the amount of territory covered; hits are now fielded on either side which once were easily safe; short flies to the outfield, which formerly fell between the in and outfielders, are now, many of them, caught; the shortstop backs up the second and third bases, helps "hold" a runner on second, and, on a throw from pitcher or catcher, the second base is covered by him almost as often as by the baseman himself.
Up, up, it soared a boundary surely! Then there was a roar as Wally Meadows gathered himself together, raced, and sprang for the red disc, spinning over his head just at the fence. It seemed to hover above him then his hands closed, and, unable to stop himself, Wally somersaulted, rolling over and over in the long grass of the outfield.
And on the ground where he had fallen lay Joel March. "But how did it all happen?" asked Outfield West breathlessly. He had just entered and was seated on the edge of the bed whereon Joel lay propped up eating his Thanksgiving dinner from a tray. It was seven o'clock in the evening, and Dickey Sproule was not yet back.
Joel descried Outfield West at once, and pushed his way to him through the throng just as the train came into sight down the track. West was surrounded on the narrow baggage truck by some half dozen of the choice spirits from Hampton House, and Joel's advent was made the occasion for much sport. "Ah, he comes! The Professor comes!" shouted West.
Behind the counter of the kitchen the non-coms, the jovial first sergeant, and the business- like sergeant who looked like a preacher, and the wrinkled-faced corporal who had been on the Red Sox outfield, could be seen eating steak. A faint odor of steak frying went through the mess hall and made the thin chilly stew utterly tasteless in comparison.
"That's bad," answered Joel thoughtfully. "It would be all up with us if Blair shouldn't play." "And that's just what's going to happen if 'Wheels' keeps up his present game," responded Outfield. "Who are those chaps in that shell, Joel? One looks like Cloud, the fellow in front." Joel watched the approaching craft for a moment. "It is Cloud," he answered. "And that looks like Clausen with him.
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