“Is that so, fresh?” Babe pressed the heel of a big hand sternly on Dave’s classic nose and elicited a groan of protest. “If they’ll put the old pill where I can reach it, Dave, it’s going to travel.”
“Sure, all you want is a straight one across your chest. That’s not much to ask, eh? Seems like they might do you a slight favor like that, what? Then, if it happens you can swing that old bridge timber of yours around in time, you’ll maybe get a hit!”
“‘Bridge timber!’” chuckled Hal. “That’s a new one!” Ginger, sitting slightly apart, grinned. Babe grinned, too.
“The old bridge timber did the trick yesterday, just the same.” Then he laughed reflectively. “Ginger was all broke up over that. He’s been after me to use one of those toothpicks, like the rest of you, and when he saw that homer he just dug his face in the dust.”
“Ginger’s dead right,” said Joe Kenton. “You’d hit three times as often if you used a light bat.”
“Sure,” agreed Dave.
“Do you fellows think so, too?” demanded Ginger eagerly.
“Of course,” replied Joe. “You’ve got the right dope, Ginger.”
“I’ll say so,” said Dave. “If Babe didn’t have a solid concrete dome, he’d know it, too.”