"Never you mind how," said Ned sharply. "That's not the question. Laurie's gone and put himself in a hole, and you've got to help pull him out. Will you do it?"
Kewpie was again silent for a moment. Then he nodded. "Sure," he said dubiously. "I'll do what I can, but—"
"There aren't any 'buts,'" declared Ned. "If you'll take hold seriously and do your best and learn to pitch—well, fairly decently, Kewpie, Laurie and I'll look after the rest of it. We'll see that you get your chance somehow with the team."
"How are you going to do it?" asked Kewpie.
Ned shrugged. "Don't know yet. That'll come later. Now, what do you say? Will you be a game sport and buckle into it, or are you going to throw us down? You'll have to quit bluffing about what you can do and work like the dickens, Kewpie. You'll have to quit eating sweet stuff and starchy things and get rid of about ten pounds, too. Well?"
Kewpie looked solemnly back at Ned for an instant. Then he nodded shortly. "I'll do it," he said soberly. "Let's go."
