Page:Ralph Paine--The Steam-Shovel Man.djvu/68

 blow Colon off the map. But I'll be glad to report in the morning, sir."

This casual reference to base-ball had a most surprising effect upon the placid Mr. Naughton, who had seemed proof against excitement. He jumped as if he had been shot at, grasped Walter by the arm, and shouted eagerly:

"Say that again. Can you pitch? Are you a real ball-player? Man alive, tell me all about it!"

Walter stared at the "powder man" as if suspecting him of mild insanity.

"We have a crack nine in Wolverton for a high-school," he replied. "It is a mill town, you see, and most of the fellows begin playing ball on the open lots as soon as they can walk. We were good enough last season to beat two or three of the smaller college teams."

"And you were the regular pitcher?" breathlessly demanded Mr. Naughton, as he backed away and surveyed the broad-shouldered youth from head to foot.

"Yes, I pitched in all the games."

"Well, you handle yourself like a ball-player, and I believe you are one. You come along to supper with me."