“No, and you’d better not!” snapped Hiram. “You pitch! Ha! Ha! It makes me laugh,” and with a sneering look at Joe the bully strode off, chuckling unpleasantly.
[CHAPTER VII]
A CLASH WITH LUKE
For several minutes Joe stood staring after the baseball manager. The young pitcher’s arm hung listlessly at his side. There was a look on his face that would have been sad, had Joe been that kind of a lad—showing his feelings needlessly. But our hero was full of spunk and grit, and, though Hiram’s unnecessarily cruel words hurt him grievously, Joe shut his teeth with a firmer grip, squared his shoulders, drew himself up, and then he smiled at Tom.
“Well, of all the mean, unmitigated, low-down, cantankerous, sneaking, bulldozing and——” sputtered the first baseman.
“Hold on!” exclaimed his companion. “You’ll blow up if you go on that way, Tom. Besides, save some of those big words for a time when you may need ’em.”
“Need ’em? Say if I don’t need ’em now I never will. I wish I had thought to get rid of a few when that bully was here.”