"We won't be able to eat much supper after this," ventured Owen.
"You only say that because you're not used to Guffin's," chuckled Nat. "These are regular appetizers. What was I saying?"
"Nothing," said Benny. "How did you happen to think of it?"
"What kind of work are you doing, Nat?" asked Owen.
"I'm secretary to my uncle, Mr. Parsons Wingate," answered Nat. "I can take dictation in shorthand and bang on the typewriter with all ten fingers."
"And find time to play ball besides?"
"You bet! I get practice enough to keep on edge. The Stars can trim a lot of would-be big leaguers."
"You're going to play the school team, aren't you?"
"Yes! And we expect to give 'em an awful drubbing, too."
"Get out your note-book, Wilkins. I'm going to ask a question," said Brown, banging the table sharply.