Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Support; Or, A Triple Play онлайн

58 страница из 69

“What’s that? Why, you little runt, I’ll shake you outer them clothes!”

“Try it! I don’t know who you are, but——”

“Don’t talk to him, Dick,” said Frank, stepping up. “He is nobody but a common rascal who tried to sell the game to this other man yesterday. He was umpiring, and his dirty work made the crowd so angry that it came near mobbing him.”

“It was your dirty kicking that gave the crowd the impression that I was roasting,” snarled Derring. “The Stars will bury you to-morrow. You’ll not get a score.”

“Not a score,” growled Hazen.

“I’ll bet a thousand dollars we beat the Stars!” cried Dick, boylike.

“I’ll take the bet!” came from Hazen. “Put up your money.”

“If I had it, I’d put it up. Frank, let me have the money—do! You may take it out of my share if I lose. But I can’t lose! Won’t you let me have the money?”

Merry shook his head.

“I do not believe in betting, Dick,” he said. “It is gambling, and gambling has ruined many good men.”

Hazen and Derring laughed scornfully.

“You’re a squealer, Merriwell!” declared the stout sporting man. “That’s what’s the matter with you! You lack nerve!”