“No, sir.”
“Then who did?”
“I did.”
“Wha-a-at?” Duncan dragged forth the exclamation with an intonation of great astonishment.
“Yes, I did it,” repeated Wolfe defiantly. “I was forced into it.”
“By whom?”
“Mike Lynch.”
“How did he force you into it?”
“Oh, he knew something about me that I wouldn’t have come out for the world, and he threatened to expose me unless I went in with him on his plan to throw down the team. You see, I had a good chance to do that. Tommy Tucker had quit, and I was almost the only man who could come anywhere near filling his place at shortstop. They had to have as good a man as they could get. I believe I can play the position all around Tucker. I went out and showed them what I could do. Merriwell advised Jones to give me a chance on the team, and Jones decided to do so.”
“Oh, of course!” sneered Ditson, exhaling a blue smoky breath while his lips curled with scorn. “Jones is a mere figurehead. He agrees to everything Merriwell proposes. Manager Robinson is another dummy. Manager? Why, he couldn’t manage a chicken hatchery. He’s about the biggest slob in the whole bunch.”