two or three more were talking in the gym this afternoon, and Elk said you were no good and never would be able to pitch, and—"
"Elk!" interrupted Kewpie contemptuously. "He's just a big blow-hard, a bluff, a—"
"Never mind that. Laurie said you could pitch and that before the season was over you'd be pitching on the nine. Get that?"
Kewpie nodded, glancing from one to the other of the twins, but he seemed at a loss for words. Finally, though, he asked awedly, "Gosh, Nod, did you tell 'em that?"
"Yes, like a blamed idiot I did! I guess I had a brain-storm or something. Well, never mind that now. What do you say?"
"Me?" Kewpie cleared his throat. "Well, now, look here, I never told you I could pitch on the team, did I?"
"If you didn't you might just as well have," answered Laurie impatiently. "You've been cracking yourself up for a month. Now, what. Ned and I want to know—"
"Well, but hold on! How would I get to pitch, with Nate Beedle and two or three others there? Gosh, those sharks have been at it for years!"
