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"Hey!" squawked Hans. "Who threw me at dot brick? Vos dot der vay you vill dood us upness? Py Chiminy! You fellers vant to vade right in und let it try you. I pelief ve can play paseball all aroundt yoursellufs. You vos challenched to meet us a game into. Yah! Vill you exception dot challench?" "Where's the interpreter?" asked Spark. "Der vot?" "The interpreter." "Vot you vant py him?"
Der flute brought me vid it to der paseball groundt." "Av you attimpt to toot thot flute, Oi'll hit ye wid a bat!" growled Mulloy. "Oh, you vos chealous you vos chealous pecause der flute coot not play you!" sneered Dunnerwurst.
"If you're looking for practice, Dale," said Frank, "perhaps we can accommodate you. We feel like playing a little baseball ourselves." "Yah!" put in Hans, who declined to be repressed. "Ve pelief der game uf paseball can play us some. Der practice vos oudt uf us a whole lot, but all der same ve vill dood our pest to dood you up. Between der acts I vill gif you a melodious selection der flute on.
"It peen some red-hot paseball practice we put into us this afternoon, Frankie," said Dunnerwurst. "Py Chorge! Der game vill play us to-morrow on." "We'll have to play the game to win, boys," said Merry. "This Rover baseball team is no ordinary wandering aggregation. It's composed of professionals with records." He then told them about the players who made up the Rovers.
Merriwell," said Sparkfair. "Are you going to pitch?" "I don't think I'll start the game," said Merry. "I vill pitch mineselluf," announced Hans. "I vos der createst paseball pitcher dot efer seen you." Sparkfair flipped a coin, and the choice of innings fell to Merry. "We'll take the field," said Frank. "Go behind the bat, Hodge. Dunnerwurst will pitch.
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