"Ow-ow-ow!" yelled startled Ted, leaping up into the air. When he alighted he ran a dozen or more steps as fast as he could go, then halted and looked around him. For an instant Teall's face expressed panic.
Then mocking laughter from hundreds of throats greeted him.
"I knew any little thing out of the ordinary would rattle you," smiled Dick. "Don't lose your nerve. It wasn't anything."
"Just a fresh idiot's attempt to be funny!" growled Teall, his face now red with mortification.
"Laugh, Ted, confound you!" urged Tom Reade. "Laugh! Don't be a grouch."
"What you need, Teall," teased Dave Darrin, "is some nerve tonic. You ought not to let yourself get into such bad shape that you almost faint when you hit the ball."
For once Ted Teall's ready tongue went back on him. He could think of nothing to say that would not make him look still more ridiculous.
"I guess he'll be good, for one game at least," grimaced Dick as he turned to his teammates.