"I know you've always claimed you was," said Crabtree, with a sneer; "but, 'cordin' to some of the things I've heard about ye, you've been a mighty sportin' young feller in your day. You've lived pretty high for a youngster, and you've had dealings with sportin' people. They tell me you don't drink, you don't gamble, you don't swear, and you don't do any of them things; but I fail to understand how any man can associate with persons who do drink and swear and gamble without acquiring such habits himself. Now, sir, it's a well-known fact that professional ball players are generally dissolute and disreputable. These Rovers are professionals—they claim to be. When you play ball against them you sort of put yourself in their class."
"Well, not exactly, Mr. Crabtree," denied Frank. "I presume you are aware that a number of college baseball teams play games early every season with teams of the National and American Leagues. Yale usually plays the New York Nationals in New York. The Yale team is made up of non-professional college men, amateurs in good standing. They do not become professionals by engaging in a game with the New York Nationals. I don't care to discuss this matter with you, Mr. Crabtree. I simply give you my assurance that I know nothing whatever of this ten-thousand-dollar wager, and I am satisfied that no such wager has been made. The story is intended to arouse excitement and interest, with the evident purpose of bringing out a crowd of spectators to witness the game."
"Then it's a fraud and a deception!" cried Jeremiah, flourishing the paper in his right hand and shaking his clenched left hand in the air. "It's a falsehood—a barefaced lie! It's an imposition on the public! You're concerned in it, sir! You can't get out of it! If you don't know anything about it, you're concerned just the same."
"I fail to see how you make that out."
"When you make an agreement to play them professionals you knew what sort of men they were. If they've originated this yarn for the purpose of deceiving people, you're responsible because you've had dealings with them."
"That's rather far-fetched, Mr. Crabtree."
"Nothing far-fetched about it."
"If I should purchase a horse of you for a hundred dollars, and, in order to increase the apparent value of that horse, with the idea of selling him to some one else, I should go around informing people I had paid three hundred dollars, would you be responsible in any way? Do you feel that in any manner you would be party to the falsehood?"
Rufus Applesnack had been listening to the talk, and now he gave Crabtree a jab in the ribs.
"He's gut ye, deacon—he's gut ye!" chuckled the grocery man. "He's gut ye right where the wool is short!"