Harmony | Page 2

I'd tell him that if he'd tell me why he was so blame curious. So he gave
me his end of it.
"It seems his brother, up in Ludington, had seen this kid play ball on
the lots and had signed him right up for Hodges and taken him to
Jackson, and of course, Hodges knew he had a world beater the minute
he saw him. But he also knew he wasn't going to be able to keep him in
Jackson, and, naturally he began to figure how he could get the most
money for him. It was already August when the boy landed in Jackson;
so there wasn't much chance of getting a big price last season. He
decided to teach the kid what he didn't know about baseball and to keep
him under cover till this year. Then everybody would be touting him
and there'd be plenty of competition. Hodges could sell to the highest
bidder.
"He had Waidron out practising every day, but wouldn't let him play in
a game, and every player on the Jackson club had promised to keep the
secret till this year. So Hodges wanted to find out from me which one
of his players had broken the promise.
"Then I asked him if he was perfectly sure that Waldron hadn't played
in a game, and he said he had gone in to hit for somebody just once. I
asked him what date that was and he told me. It was the day Art had
been in Jackson. So I said:

"'There's your mystery solved. That's the day my scout saw him, and
you'll have to give the scout a little credit for picking a star after seeing
him make one base hit.'
"Then Hodges said:
"'That makes it all the more a mystery. Because, in the first place, he
batted under a fake name. And, in the second place, he didn't make a
base hit. He popped out.'
"That's about all there is to it. You can ask Art how he picked the kid
out for a star from seeing him pop out once. I've asked him myself, and
he's told me that he liked the way Waldron swung. Personally, I believe
one of those Jackson boys got too gabby. But Art swears not."
"That is a story," I said gratefully. "An old outfielder who must know
he's slipping recommends a busher after seeing him pop out once. And
the busher jumps right in and gets his job."
I looked down the aisle toward the song birds. Art Graham, now a
bench warmer, and young Waldron, whom he had touted and who was
the cause of his being sent to the bench, were harmonizing at the tops
of their strong and not too pleasant voices.
"And probably the strangest part of the story," I added, "is that Art
doesn't seem to regret it. He and the kid appear to be the best of
friends."
"Anybody who can sing is Art's friend," said Ryan.
I left him and went back to my seat to tear off my seven hundred words
before we reached Springfield. I considered for a moment the
advisability of asking Graham for an explanation of his wonderful bit
of scouting, but decided to save that part of it for another day. I was in
a hurry and, besides, Waldron was just teaching them a new "wallop,"
and it would have been folly for me to interrupt.
"It's on the word 'you,'" Waldron was saying. "I come down a tone;

Lefty goes up a half tone, and Bill comes up two tones, Art just sings it
like always. Now try her again," I heard him direct the song birds. They
tried her again, making a worse noise than ever:
"I only know I love you;
Love me, and the world (the world) is mine (the world is mine)."

"No," said Waldron. "Lefty missed it. If you fellas knew music, I could
teach it to you with the piano when we get to Boston. On the word
'love,' in the next to the last line, we hit a regular F chord. Bill's singing
the low F in the bass and Lefty's hitting middle C in the baritone, and
Art's on high F and I'm up to A. Then, on the word 'you,' I come down
to G, and Art hits E and Lefty goes up half a tone to C sharp, and Cole
comes up from F to A in the bass. That makes a good wallop. It's a
change from the F chord to the A chord. Now let's try her again,"
Waldron urged.
They tried her again:
"I only know I love you--"
"No, no! " said young Waldron. "Art and I were all right; but Bill came
up too far,