CHAPTER XXVI.
A LIVELY GAME.
When the Farnham Hall baseball team came out for practice that afternoon they found another team on the field. This team was dressed in blue suits, and on the breast of each shirt was a large white letter M.
Frank Merriwell had found these old suits stored away and brought them forth. At sight of them his friends were seized with the old-time enthusiasm for the great American game, and it did not take them long to get into the suits and onto the field.
"What's this?" cried Dale Sparkfair, as he surveyed Merry's team. "We seem to have intruders here. We'll have to put them off the field, boys. We'll have to do them up."
Hans Dunnerwurst paused, with his hands on his hips, and stared at Dale. Half a dozen persons shouted at the Dutchman, but he failed to heed their warning, and a ball thrown at him struck him on the head, bounding off.
"Hey!" squawked Hans. "Who threw me at dot brick? Vos dot der vay you vill dood us upness? Py Chiminy! You fellers vant to vade right in und let it try you. I pelief ve can play paseball all aroundt yoursellufs. You vos challenched to meet us a game into. Yah! Vill you exception dot challench?"
"Where's the interpreter?" asked Spark.
"Der vot?"
"The interpreter."