Dud consulted his watch. It was now one-forty-six. In three-quarters of an hour the game would start. And they wouldn’t be there! Of course it wasn’t very likely that he would have had a chance to pitch today, anyhow, but there was always the possibility. Dud sighed deeply and Jimmy echoed the sigh. It had just occurred to him that there was now no question as to who would play center field.
“If I ever lay my hands on that skunk,” broke forth Jimmy, “I’ll—I’ll just about——”
But Dud interrupted by sliding off the truck and walking away down the platform.
“Where are you going?” called Jimmy.
“I’m going to Greenbank,” answered Dud.
“How?”
“Walk!”
“Walk! Walk nine miles? Why it’ll take hours!”
“All right,” replied Dud over his shoulder. “Let it. But I’m going to get there, just the same, Jimmy.”