"Shoot!" repeated Flint, staring vaguely[pg 26] into Gary's bloodshot eyes; "you shoot, you old slacker——"
"Shut up and play the game!" cut in Carfax, a menacing roar rising in his voice. "You're all slackers—and rotters, too. Play the game! Keep playing—hard!—or you'll go clean off your fool nuts!"
Gary walked heavily over and knocked the tennis balls out of Flint's hands.
"There's a better game than that," he said, his articulation very thick; "but it takes nerve—if you've got it, you spindle-legged little cockney!"
Flint struck at him aimlessly. "I've got nerve," he muttered, "plenty of nerve, old top! What d'you want? I'm your man; I'll go you—eh, what?"
"Go on with the game, I tell you!" bawled Carfax.
Gary swung around: "Wait till I explain——"
"No, don't wait! Keep going! Keep playing! Keep doing something, for God's sake!"
"Will you wait!" shouted Gary. "I want to tell you——"
Carfax made a hopeless gesture: "It's talk that will do the trick for us all——"