“Never mind; who cares? Whoa, you pesky brute! Climb in, Sammy. That’s the ticket. Now go if you want to!”
And Judy went. And for the subsequent minute or two Chester had his hands full in managing the horse. When she had settled down into a long swinging trot that simply ate up the Charlemont road Chester returned to his subject.
“As I was saying, I’m a Towner, of course, and I want to stick with the other fellows, but there are some things that aren’t fair. I don’t believe in going too far to win a ball game, Sammy.”
“That’s right,” commented Sam approvingly, trying to suppress any note of eagerness in his voice.
“So,” continued Chester, “when I heard about it I made up my mind to sneak up here and see you and let you know what the fellows are up to. It sounds sort of—of traitorish, though, doesn’t it?”
Chester viewed Sam anxiously.
“Well, I don’t know,” Sam replied judicially. “Of course, it’s possible to go too far, as you just said, Chesty, and in that case I guess you’ve got a right to refuse to go in with the others.”
“Yes, I know. But have I any right to give them away, Sammy? That’s what’s troubling me.”
Sam, who had the right-minded boy’s dislike of anything savoring of treachery, rather wished that Chester hadn’t put that question to him. Of course, if Chester was silly enough or weak enough to tell tales he wasn’t such a fool as to refuse to listen, but, on the other hand, he didn’t care to endorse any such doings. He tried to beg the question.
“I guess that’s for you to decide, Chesty,” he responded finally. “After all, it’s only a ball game and it doesn’t much matter who wins it. But I guess we’re certain enough of getting it, old man.”