“Well, what I was saying was that the outfield of a baseball ground has to be pretty wide. Our field isn’t nearly big enough, sir. If you knock a foul into right field it goes over your wall and we have to chase over for it.”
“And knock my wall down while you’re doing it,” added the farmer.
“We don’t mean to, sir.”
“Huh! I suppose you don’t mean to steal my apples! I suppose you didn’t mean to set fire to my hay cocks!”
“We didn’t do that, Mr. Finkler!” declared Jack earnestly. “I wasn’t here then, but I’ve heard the fellows say over and over again that they had nothing to do with it.”
“Lies!”
“No, sir, they’re not lies! Fellows like Ted Warner and Dolph Jones don’t tell lies!”
“Don’t, eh? Didn’t ever steal my apples I suppose?”
“I think they have done that, sir, but—but swiping a few apples isn’t exactly stealing—”