“Oh, nothing. If that is the sort of thing you like, then you like just the sort of thing you’ve got, that’s all.”
“He can pitch like a fiend.”
“What of it?”
“He’ll own the whole school pretty soon if he can measure up to Red Chandler!”
“Red Chandler!” retorted Chesty scornfully. “He was just another such fellow as your friend from the hayfield. He didn’t know how to act like a gentleman. He was just a great, rough——”
“He’s the best pitcher the Tait School nine ever had!”
“What of that? He used to say, ‘I done it.’ He never had a suit of clothes that fitted him. He was not and never could be a gentleman.”
It was too dark to permit Ned to see Dan’s face and yet he was aware that his companion must have heard Chesty’s words. Impulsively he turned to Dan and said, “Don’t pay any attention to what that Chesty has been saying. He doesn’t know anything except what a tailor can tell him. He doesn’t know what he is here for. He thinks his money can buy anything. You don’t mind his chaff, do you?”
“I haven’t had much time to find out yet,” replied Dan quietly.
“Well, don’t you mind it! I’ll tell Chesty what I think of him.”