“You shut up, or I’ll pinch you!” exclaimed the constable hotly. “I don’t care for either you or your dad. I’m constable o’ this town. Git out, now, and do it lively, or I’ll run the lot o’ you in! Jump!”
He pulled forth his club. Seeing that he meant business, Carson flung a sullen look around, nodded to his gang, and they melted away. The constable turned to Merry.
“Much obliged,” said Chip, smiling. “We were afraid they meant trouble.”
“So they did,” growled the constable. “You’d better let ’em simmer down.”
“We will,” said Billy. The group was just breaking up when Merriwell halted them.
“One minute, everybody. What do you say to getting a game with the Clippers this Saturday? I believe it’s an open date; I can pitch, and if you’re willing to work between now and then, we can give them a run for their money!”
“Whoop!” A yell of delight burst from every throat.
“Bully for you!” cried Spaulding, grabbing Merry’s hand and pumping it.
“No, us fer Bully!” said McCarthy. “You bet we will!”
“Can you get a team together?” asked Chip. “If you can, meet at Billy’s house to-night and talk things over.”