“Why, it’s a——” Dan stopped abruptly as Silas at that moment came toward the two boys.
CHAPTER VII
A DISPUTE
“Tell him to get off the field,” said Walter in a low voice as he saw the stout harness-maker approaching.
“Tell ye what, Dan,” roared Silas, “ye’re jest givin’ Benson somethin’ t’ think on. Our boys are jest knockin’ th’ cover right off th’ ball.”
“That doesn’t look like it,” responded Dan quietly as the Rodman batter hit a little fly to the short-stop, who turned quickly and caught one of the runners. It was the first occasion for a shout from the followers of the Benson nine and the applause was as noisy as it was prolonged. Two boys, one with a pitchfork in his hand, jumped down from their seat in a farm wagon which they had driven to a place not far from third base. “Hello, Si!” shouted one of the boys. “We’re goin’ t’ give you fellows a dose you’ll never forget.”
“Be ye?” retorted Silas, his round face shining under the heat and his excitement. “If ye keep up as ye’ve begun, it’ll look like the ‘dose’ was somethin’ prepared special for Benson. Ye haven’t got a man t’ first base yet.”
“Just wait, Si——”
“I am a-waitin’,” interrupted the harness-maker. “An’ so be you, I guess. Doesn’t seem t’ be doin’ ye much good, though.”