fire. His unhallowed wit had given him a certain holding among the boys, but they had no ears for it to-night. There was no loop-hole in this disgrace which had come upon Mains, and no flicker of fun on any face beside Lou’s. Lou sat up and flung the stone.
“I’ll lend my blanket for thirty pitches,” he said.
Ted Douglas gasped where he stood behind Jimmie, his strong bony face white under sweat that had not been wiped away. Buck shivered.
“Thirty’d tear the inside out’r him,” he said. “I had it done ter me wonst up North—an’ that was on’y twenty. But I didn’t hev no stummick fur a week.”
Jimmie was using talk that brought all the men to their feet. Lou sprang up.
“That’s enough,” he said. “Bring him outside. It’s starlight.”
“Ted—Ted—stop them———”
Steve gathered Jimmie in his great arms.
“He can’t answer fur yer no more, Jimmie,” he said. “Yer playin’ off yer own bat ter-night.”
Ted Douglas ruled his life by the ethics of fairplay. But it was needful for Randal to block him at this moment.
“You can't stop it, Douglas,” he said. “Stay in here, if you like; but they’re going to take it out of Jimmie to-night. If Lou had
