he exclaimed triumphantly. "Told you I could pitch ball as well as the rest of them! Didn't I, now?"
"You told me a lot of things, you poor cheese," answered Laurie crushingly, "but where'd you be if Ned and I hadn't managed you? I'll tell you. You'd still be lying on your window-seat, like a fat seal, reading 'How to Pitch'!"
"Huh, is that so? I guess if it comes to that, you fat-head, Brose Wilkins is the guy—"
"He sure is," agreed Laurie, "he sure is! And, prithee, you half-baked portion of nothing at all, who discovered Brose? Who persuaded him to waste his time on a big, fut lummox like you?"
"Well, anyway," replied Kewpie, quite unaffected by the insults, "neither you nor Ned nor Brose Wilkins could have made a pitcher out of me if I hadn't had the—the ability!"
"You ain't so well in your ability," said Laurie scathingly. "All you've got is a start, old son, and so don't get to thinking that you're a Big Leaguer! Maybe with prayer and hard work I'll make you amount to something by
