“If you hit my bat with your mitt when I’m striking you’ll be sorry. I won’t stand for it.”
“Why, what will you do?”
“You’ll find out!”
Sprowl laughed sneeringly. Then he batted a grounder to Ready, who made a poor throw to Browning, and Sprowl reached first.
“Don’t talk to me!” he cried. “Don’t warn me! I always get a hit when somebody threatens me.”
“Dot hid dit not get you!” cried Dunnerwurst. “Id peen not a hit. Off Vrankie Merrivell you got yet no hits ad all, and maype you vill nod dood id efer so long as I live.”
“Why don’t you learn to talk United States?” cried Rush, who was coaching.
“He can talk better than he can play ball,” said Sprowl, in his nasty way.
Wolfers strode out with his bat.
“Got a hit off me, did you, Merriwell!” he thought. “Well, here is where I even up.”