“Not a hair, if he can play ball. What's his name?”
“Sam—something.”
“Sam Something? That is a funny name.”
“Oh, you know, Sam. I don't know his other name.”
“Well, I'll try him, Jane,” said young Smart, moving toward the boy and followed by the eager eyes of the little girl.
“I say, Sam,” said Smart, “we want a man for left field. Will you take a go at it?”
“Too hot,” grunted Sam.
“Oh, you won't find it too hot when you get started. Rip off your coat and get into the game. You can play, can't you?”
“Aw, what yer givin' us. I guess I can give them ginks a few pointers.”
“Well, come on.”