"Hurry up, Bunny! Pretty near time for the bell!" Nap flung over his shoulder.
Rodman was plainly wavering. "But—but—"
"Try it, anyhow."
"Oh, you must!" Molly commanded.
The new boy climbed out of the car, smiling. "I'm no good, but I'll give you a chance to see just how bad I am."
"This Claxton," Bunny confided, as they jogged to the diamond, "pitches a hard ball, and he has a sure-enough out-curve; but if you stand up to the plate and don't let him bluff you back, it will be all right. Remember, though, you have only two strikes left."
From the car, Molly watched Rodman and Bunny join the others. For a little while, there seemed to be some objection to Rodman's substituting, but Buck Claxton ended the argument.
"Let him come to bat," observed Buck loudly. "He can't hit. I can see it in his eye."
"I'll bet he can't," assented Specs sadly. "None of 'em can."