“Must have been stirred up by that talk of President Halstead's, wasn't you?”
“Yes.” There was something quiet and easy about the stranger, and Ken liked him at once.
“Where do you play?” went on Worry.
“Left.”
“Can you hit? Talk sense now, and mebbe you'll save me work. Can you hit?”
“Yes.”
“Can you throw?”
“Yes.” He spoke with quiet assurance.
“Can you run?” almost shouted Worry. He was nervous and irritable those days, and it annoyed him for unknown youths to speak calmly of such things.
“Run? Yes, a little. I did the hundred last year in nine and four-fifths.”