“Oh, pshaw, we don’t know your names or anything about you,” was the reply. “We’ll all forget it to-morrow. You needn’t be afraid of that.”
“Thanks,” answered Nelson dryly, “but I’d rather not.”
Tom looked greatly disappointed.
“Show them what you can do, Nel,” advised Bob. “It will be rather good fun. I’d like to play myself,” he added, turning to the player. “I’m not in practice, I guess; haven’t played since last month, and then not much; but I can hit sometimes.”
“Prove it and I’ll pay you ten dollars for the game!” said the other quickly. “I’m manager and I can do what I say; and I will do it too.”
“Oh, no, you won’t!” laughed Bob good-naturedly. “If you want me to help you out, I’ll do it, but I won’t take any money for it. That’s understood. How about you, Nel? Want to try pitching? You can do it, I’ll bet.”
“I’ll play if you will,” answered Nelson.
“Where do Tommy and I come in?” asked Dan. He turned to the Mannig manager. “Want anyone to peddle popcorn or sell lemonade?” he inquired gravely.
“Don’t you play?” asked the manager, casting an admiring glance over Dan’s figure.