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“Bat’s the coach, isn’t he?”

“Yep. Mr. Bennet A. Talbot; B, A, T, Bat. He’s a good sort, too. And knows a baseball from a rosy-cheeked apple, if anyone should enquire. He’s all right. I’m strong for Bat.”

“A good name for a baseball coach,” laughed Joe.

“The fact has been suggested before,” replied Jack with a grin.

“Oh, I didn’t suppose I was getting off a new one. But, look here, you can’t do much hitting in a little old cage, can you?”

“Not if Tom Pollock’s pitching,” chuckled Jack. “Why, you see, my ignorant friend, the idea is not to knock the ball through the wires, but to tap it politely. Bat will tell you that if you can get your bat against the ball in the cage you can do it when you get on the field. I don’t know that he’s terrifically right about it, though. I don’t believe it does any harm to roll bunts around in the gym, but I do know that in my own case as soon as we move outdoors and I take a healthy swing at the ball it isn’t there! And it takes me a week or so at the net to find it.”