“Why, you know without asking that. Putting a good man in the box and another behind the bat, of course.”
“Where’d you get your good man?”
“Here in the school.”
“Who?”
“I guess you’ll have to keep your eyes open. Anybody ought to——”
“Listen to this, Siebold.” Dixon leaned over the table. “Brown says we’ve got pitching material——”
“Well, what of it? Don’t I know it?”
“It’s a blamed sure bet he doesn’t know it, or if he does he ought to be jailed for conspiracy to beat the school team,” laughed Bill, still addressing Dixon.
“How’s that, Brown? What’s your dope?” ventured Sadler, who alone really dared to question Siebold’s authority. Bill went on, in forcible language, for he was aware that Siebold was listening, and repeated what he had said to Mr. Gay and to Dixon. The argument about every one in the school being interested in the success of the ball team seemed to strike home, and several boys gathering round began to make comments favorable to the sentiment. The librarian came over and objected to the talking.
“Let’s go down to the gym and talk this thing over,” said Sadler. “Brown will spring this man on us if we’ll try him—eh, Brown?”