“I guess you fellows won’t have much trouble licking us to-day, ‘Toots,’” he said finally. “I suppose you’ve heard about Ben?”
“Yes.” “Toots” nodded. “We’d have licked you anyway, though. It’s a cinch now.”
Kid nodded sadly. “Yes, they’ve had to put me in right field. Bert Bryant’s out of it, too, you see.”
“Toots” grinned. “I’ll let you down easy when you come to bat, Kid,” he said. “You’re a pretty good little chap, even if you did lose me that hockey game.”
“I’ve always been sorry about that, ‘Toots,’” said Kid sweetly. “Of course, I didn’t mean to do it, but I know it was my fault. It—it has troubled me a whole lot.”
“Toots” studied the face upturned to his own suspiciously, but the expression was so frank, so guileless that “Toots” was touched. “That’s all right, Kid. You couldn’t tell I was going to put one of the nasty things in my mouth and lose a stop. I know that. Maybe I’ll give you a straight, easy ball this afternoon, Kid, and let you get a hit—if we’re ahead and there’s no one on.”
“Will you, honest?” asked Kid eagerly. “I wish you would, ‘Toots’! I’d love to get a hit! Gee, wouldn’t it surprise those stuck-up chaps who say I can’t play? But how will I know when to hit it, ‘Toots’?”
“Toots” laughed amusedly. “Gee, you’re a green one, aren’t you, Kid? Well, say, I’ll give you a signal, see? Like this. When I put my hand up and wiggle my fingers this way—see?—you take a swing. I’ll put it over slow and easy for you, Kid. You’re not a bad sort.”
“That—that’s awfully kind of you,” stammered Kid. “I—I—say, ‘Toots,’ let me buy you some tonic, will you? I’d love to!”
“Sure,” laughed “Toots.” “Come on over to Haley’s. I don’t mind having money spent on me.”