“So I supposed,” answered Tom coolly, “most fields are.”
“And you are trespassing.”
“Am I? There isn’t anything to hurt. If I do any damage, bring in your bill.”
“We are playing by ourselves. We don’t wish any company.”
“Well, I do. I feel just like having a game at ball. Just pitch it over.”
“I won’t do it,” said James. “Edwin, catch it.”
So saying, he pitched the ball to his cousin, but Tom intercepted it before it reached the hands for which it was designed.
“Let go that ball!” exclaimed James angrily.
“Red dead-ball, isn’t it?” said Tom, at the same time tossing it up and down. “Where’d you get it?”
“I’ll let you know,” said James menacingly. “What business have you got with my ball?”