“Can you play ball?” asked Tom.
“Not much,” replied Larry; “not like Sam. Come here, Sam,” he called, remembering that he had not introduced his friend. Sam shuffled over with an air of complete nonchalance.
“This is Sam,” said Larry. “Sam—I have forgotten your name.”
“Nolan,” said Sam shortly.
“Miss Hazel Sleighter,” said Larry.
“How do you do, Miss Hazel,” said Sam, sweeping her an elaborate bow, and then gazing boldly into her eyes. “I hope you're well. If you're as smart as you look, I guess you're way up in G.”
“I am quite well, thank you,” returned Miss Hazel, the angle of her chin indicating her most haughty air.
“Say, young lady, pass up the chilly stuff,” replied Sam with a laugh. “It don't go with that mighty fine complexion of yours. Say, did you ever see the leading lady in 'The Spider's Web'? Well, you make me think of her, and she was a peacherino. Never seen her? No? Well, you ought to see her some day and think of me.”
Hazel turned a disgusted shoulder on Sam's impudent face and engaged Larry in vivacious conversation.
“Well, I am off to the ball practice,” said Tom. “Got a match on Saturday—High School against the world. Guess they would like to have you, Sam, only I wouldn't care to have you play against us. You don't play baseball, eh?” continued Tom, addressing Larry. “What do you play—football?”