The bases were filled, and Hans began to growl at Kilgore.
"Vere did der umpiring efer learn you?" he demanded.
"Gol ding it!" shouted Ephraim Gallup from the field. "Yeou didn't git one of them balls within four feet of the pan! Yeou can't pitch! Yeou never could! Better let me go in and show 'em haow to pitch."
"Go avay pack and sit down," advised Hans derisively. "You vould dood a lot uf goot uf you vould pitch, vouldn't you!"
"If I couldn't do better than yeou're doing naow, I'd never play another game of baseball!" retorted Gallup.
"He's envious," said Sparkfair. "Don't listen to him. I know you'll strike me out. You can't help it."
The first ball pitched to Spark happened to be just where he wanted it. He met it squarely and drove it Over Carson's head in right field.
It was a clean three-bagger, and three runs came in.
"Well, I think that will about do for you, Hans," said Frank. "Come in here, Gallup, if you want to show what you can do."
Ephraim promptly accepted the invitation and came galloping in from the field.