“Oh, cut it out,” growled Billy. “A fat lot you know about it!”
“If you mean baseball, I know a great deal. I don’t pretend that I invented the game, Billy, but I certainly organized the Nile Valley League and——”
“Say, you bum scorer, who’s up?”
“You are, you talented right-fielder!”
“What on earth is the Nile Valley League?” inquired Billy, who had never heard of that mythical aggregation. Jonesie glanced around with a look of pitying surprise.
“And you’re captain of a ball team!” he exclaimed. He shook his head gently. “Honest, Billy, I look at you in wonder! You’re on deck, by the way.”
Billy got up and selected a bat with much care. Jonesie watched him pessimistically.
“Say, Cap, in order to use that you’ve got to know more than the bat,” he volunteered helpfully. Billy scowled.
Randall’s failed to add to her score and Popham came in. With a man on first the second batsman lined a hot one at Billy, and Billy watched it travel into center field while he wrung a bunch of aching fingers. Jonesie smiled and restored one of the canceled errors opposite the captain’s name.