Then there was a howl of scorn from all the others, and one shook a finger under Jimmy's nose, shouting:
"Slatridge knows it all—in his mind! That feller's too tired to play baseball. He can pitch sometimes, but he don't git woke up only when he thinks he's likely to lose his job. Don't you take stock in ev'rything he says."
"Fellers," said a tall, solemn-looking boy, out at knees and elbows, "I'd give a hundred thousan' dollars to see Frank Merriwell pitch against Rockland an' use his double-shoot on 'em."
"I'd give more'n that to see it, if I jest had the price
of admission ter git inter ther game," declared a barefooted boy.
"Why don't Moslof nail him?" fiercely demanded a freckle-faced youngster. "If I was manager of the Camdens, I wouldn't let Frank Merriwell go away alive if he wouldn't play ball for me! I bet Rockland will have him if Moslof don't git him."
"If Rockland gits him, Camden might jest as well crawl right into the smallest hole she can find, and pull the hole in after her. She won't never win another game."
The most of this talk could be distinctly heard by Frank and his friends, and it proved very amusing.
In the window of the drug store near the post office hung a printed poster announcing a game of ball in Camden that afternoon between Rockland and Camden. The bill also stated that Rockland and Camden were tied for first place in the Knox County League, so that the result of one game would put one or the other team at the head.
"We'll have to see that game, fellows," said Frank. "It is evident that there is plenty of baseball excitement down in this part of the country."