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drowned by the catcalls, whoops, and jeers of the spectators.
"Oh, you left-handed lobster!"
"You're on the blink!"
"Go die somewhere!"
"You can't pitch!"
"You never could pitch!"
"Take it away and bury it!"
"Chase yourself, you skate!"
Eight balls without a break had Tom Locke thrown, passing the first two men to face him. And this was the great southpaw man Kingsbridge had heard so much about lately, the left-handed wizard who was to make the hated Bullies bite the dust!
"Take him out!" shrieked a voice above the clamor.
Instantly the crowd took it up on all sides. "Take him out!" they roared. "Take him out! Take him out!"
Bob Hutchinson lifted his chin from his hand, sat up straight, and turned to Henry Cope.
"Well?" he said.
