"Say, Benny, I haven't seen any of your articles in the 'Reflector' yet," began Victor Collins. "I guess you can't write worth beans."
"My talents can't be measured by the bean standard," returned Benny. "They cost only six cents a quart. Look at Bush shooting 'em over home plate! Suppose your old Ramblers had to face pitching like that! Wouldn't they get bowled down in one, two, three order?"
"Go on, Know-it-all!" snapped Victor.
"I wonder what kind of a game Bush'll put up against Rockville Academy next Saturday. The inter-scholastic series begins then."
Victor Collins grinned.
"Funny little ideas seem to creep into that funny little noddle of yours," he remarked. "Neither Brown nor all the rest can bluff Bob Somers."
"Is that so? I know your Uncle Ralph is on the firing line, ready to use up all the ammunition he has in the shop to help 'em. Guess Mr. Barry told him the jig is up with the Ramblers."
"Humph! Spying again!" sniffed Victor. "I don't know what Mr. Barry said, and wouldn't tell you if I did."
"You don't even know what your uncle went to see him about, I s'pose?"
"Of course I do."