"It don't make no difference to me one way or the other," he said; "so I am content I should be the umpire."
"Schon gut!" Eschenbach cried as he laid down a heavy valise he had brought with him. "And now, boys, let's get busy."
He opened the valise and produced a catcher's mask and mitt, a bat, and three balls.
"Here, you!" he said, throwing one of the balls to Kanef.
During the discussion with Golnik, Kanef had maintained the bent and submissive attitude becoming in a shipping clerk toward his superior; but when Eschenbach flung the ball at him he straightened up immediately and, to the surprise and delight of the philanthropist, he caught it readily with one hand.
"Well, well!" Eschenbach exclaimed. "I see you played ball already."
"Used to was shortstop with the Scammel Field Club," Kanef murmured. "We was champeens of the Eighth Ward."
"Good!" Eschenbach cried. "Might we would got another ballplayer here?"
"Sure," Kanef replied, pointing to a short, thick-set presser who stood grinning among the spectators. "That feller there, by the name Max Croplin, he plays second base already."
"You don't say so!" Eschenbach exclaimed. "Well, supposing Max Croplin catches and you pitch, understand me, and I would go on the bat and give them fellers here a sample play already."