“I’ve a good mind to call the bet off!”
“No, ye don’t! The constable’s down keepin’ order in the bleachers, and you can’t locate him ’fore the game starts if ye want to. ’Sides, I reckon you ain’t a welsher.”
The stranger allowed himself to be soothed down, and settled himself to watch the progress of things.
Frank and Bully Carson met with the two umpires, and went over the ground rule regarding a home run.
“No chance o’ your scrubs gettin’ the ball in the river,” jeered Carson. “Don’t need to worry over it. Ain’t never been done, anyhow!”
“That’s no sign it can’t be done,” said Frank, with a smile.
A gong rang out. Merry and Carson quickly discussed the question of outs and ins, while the umpires were announcing the batteries.
“I’d like to git in the box first crack, an’ knock your block off,” growled Bully. “But I dunno’s I wouldn’t jest as soon knock you out o’ the box. Take your choice.”
“Thanks,” said Merry easily. “Since you’re so kind, I think we’ll give you a chance to get a home run, Bully. According to the batting order, I’m afraid you won’t get a crack till the third inning, though.”
Carson, whose name stood seventh on the list, glowered derisively.