“Hug the bag; pitcher’s got the ball!” Morris retorted.
“Look out for a steal!” put in Gorgas over her shoulder.
“There he goes!” shouted Ned. “Slide! slide!... Safe by a mile!”
“Somebody coach third,” called Gorgas.
“Vairy good,” agreed Bardek, who was quite aware that all this nonsense was aimed at him. “Vairy good. That talk I do not know; but I know some t’ings.” He marched toward the door. “I not so beeg a fool to stand around and stop nice little boy-girl love-making. Je n’aime pas à faire le fâcheux troisieme. I know when three is one too many! Au revoir, les enfants!” and he was gone.
The effect was sobering.
“The blithering fool!” ejaculated Gorgas.
Off in the distance they could hear Bardek singing lustily.
“Oh! oh! oh! oh! ah! ah! ah! ah!
“Quel bon petit roi c’était là! là! là!”