“We cannot,” replied the man emphatically. “Mr. Brent give me the contract to build the street through here and me time’s valuable. You’ll have to play your game somewhere else, I’m thinking.”
“But we can’t do that! There isn’t any other place! Look here, Mr. Brent gave us permission to use this field and I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to come and break up our game like this. The other fellows have come all the way from Lesterville to play us.”
“’Tis no affair of mine, young feller.” The man tried to push by Dick and Tim, but many of the audience, attracted by the argument, had gathered around, and these, taking Dick’s side, stood immovably in the way. The contractor showed anger. “Now you fellers let me through here till I open them gates down there,” he blustered. “If you don’t we’ll break ’em down.”
“Try it!” said someone eagerly, and a laugh of approval went up.
“I’ll get the cops here if you make trouble for me an’ me men! An’ if it’s trouble you’re lookin’ for——”
“Oh, run away till the game’s over, can’t you?” asked another of the throng. “Be a sport! What’s the good of busting up the fun?”
“An’ me losin’ money while you fellers play ball, eh? What for would I be doin’ that? You leave me get to the gates.”
“Nothing doing, friend! Better back out!”
“Hold on a minute,” said Dick quietly. “Will you wait fifteen minutes, Mister—er——”
“Me name’s Mullin,” growled the contractor. “What’ll I be waitin’ fer?”