My Roomy | Page 2

lookin' for," says John. Then he says: "You was an outfielder up there in Michigan, wasn't you?"
"I don't care where I play," says Elliott.
John sends him to the outfield and forgets all about him for a while. Pretty soon Miller comes in and says:
"I ain't goin' to shag for no bush outfielder!"
John ast him what was the matter, and Miller tells him that Elliott ain't doin' nothin' but just standin' out there; that he ain't makin' no attemp' to catch the fungoes, and that he won't even chase 'em. Then John starts watchin' him, and it was just like Miller said. Larry hit one pretty near in his lap and he stepped out o' the way. John calls him in and ast him:
"Why don't you go after them fly balls?"
"Because I don't want 'em," says Elliott.
John gets sarcastic and says:
"What do you want? Of course we'll see that you get anythin' you want!"
"Give me a ticket back home," says Elliott.
"Don't you want to stick with the club?" says John, and the busher tells him, no, he certainly did not. Then John tells him he'll have to pay his own fare home and Elliott don't get sore at all. He just says:
"Well, I'll have to stick, then--because I'm broke."
We was havin' battin' practice and John tells him to go up and hit a few. And you ought to of seen him bust 'em!
Lavender was in there workin' and he'd been pitchin' a little all winter, so he was in pretty good shape. He lobbed one up to Elliott, and he hit it 'way up in some trees outside the fence--about a mile, I guess. Then John tells Jimmy to put somethin' on the ball. Jim comes through with one of his fast ones and the kid slams it agin the right-field wall on a line.
"Give him your spitter!" yells John, and Jim handed him one. He pulled it over first base so fast that Bert, who was standin' down there, couldn't hardly duck in time. If it'd hit him it'd killed him.
Well, he kep' on hittin' everythin' Jim give him--and Jim had somethin' too. Finally John gets Pierce warmed up and sends him out to pitch, tellin' him to hand Elliott a flock o' curve balls. He wanted to see if lefthanders was goin' to bother him. But he slammed 'em right along, and I don't b'lieve he hit more'n two the whole mornin' that wouldn't of been base hits in a game.
They sent him out to the outfield again in the afternoon, and after a lot o' coaxin' Leach got him to go after fly balls; but that's all he did do--just go after 'em. One hit him on the bean and another on the shoulder. He run back after the short ones and 'way in after the ones that went over his head. He catched just one--a line drive that he couldn't get out o' the way of; and then he acted like it hurt his hands.
I come back to the hotel with John. He ast me what I thought of Elliott.
"Well," I says, "he'd be the greatest ballplayer in the world if he could just play ball. He sure can bust 'em."
John says he was afraid he couldn't never make an outfielder out o' him. He says:
"I'll try him on the infield to-morrow. They must be Some place he can play. I never seen a lefthand hitter that looked so good agin lefthand pitchin'--and he's got a great arm; but he acts like he'd never saw a fly ball."
Well, he was just as bad on the infield. They put him at short and he was like a sieve. You could of drove a hearse between him and second base without him gettin' near it. He'd stoop over for a ground ball about the time it was bouncin' up agin the fence; and when he'd try to cover the bag on a peg he'd trip over it.
They tried him at first base and sometimes he'd run 'way over in the coachers' box and sometimes out in right field lookin' for the bag. Once Heine shot one acrost at him on a line and he never touched it with his hands. It went bam! right in the pit of his stomach--and the lunch he'd ate didn't do him no good.
Finally John just give up and says he'd have to keep him on the bench and let him earn his pay by bustin' 'em a couple o' times a week or so. We all agreed with John that this bird would be a whale of a pinch hitter--and we was right too. He was hittin' 'way over five hundred when the blowoff come, along about the last o' May.

II
Before the trainin' trip was over, Elliott had roomed with pretty near everybody