"You may count on me. We have ten more games to play, and I ought to work three, maybe four. I can lose two or three and make it a cinch."
"That's the talk," said Baldwin genially. "You know which side your bread is buttered on."
"Yes," remarked Edwards, "he does—but he wants it on both sides. He's had chances already to end this race, and won instead of losing."
"I couldn't help it," retorted Williams. "You know, Ed, I tried to lose, but that red-headed four-flush was lucky enough to keep me from it. You know I don't dare to make it too raw. Clancy might get suspicious."
"This McCarthy seems to be the trouble maker all 'round," suggested Baldwin. "With him eliminated it ought to be easy, hadn't it?"
"Him a good ball player!" ejaculated Williams angrily. "Say, he's a bum. He's just lucky."
"I don't want any more such luck," sneered Edwards. "The next time you're in there you lose the game right—you hear? Let them get a big bunch of runs right quick so no one can save the game."
"Maybe Clancy won't let me pitch," objected the star whiningly. "I can't make him let me pitch."
"I'll see to that," said Baldwin casually. "I'll see the president in the morning and have him tell this Clancy to let you pitch. Then he'll put you in."
"Don't be too certain of that," said Edwards. "Clancy usually runs the team to suit himself—and he plays to win."