Randall’s dark eyes flashed, but he controlled himself.
“I don’t acknowledge that. Who’ll go into the box for Fardale when Chip isn’t around? Tell me that.”
“You will, because you’re the next best pitcher,” retorted Hunt. “You don’t need to get sore, Randall. I’m not decrying your ability when I say that you’re not the equal of Merriwell, because you’re a blamed good pitcher.”
This only added fuel to the flame, however.
“Well, that remains to be seen,” declared Randall hotly. “Chip gets away with it because he has luck, that’s all. A whole lot depends on this game with Franklin, Monday, and the fellow that pitches and wins the game for Fardale will be the next captain of the regulars!”
“And that’ll be Chip Merriwell, for he’ll surely pitch,” said Chester.
“He won’t!” cried Randall, losing his temper. “I’m slated for that game, and I’m going to show you fellows what a real pitcher can do when he gets started. The trouble with a lot of you plebes is that you truckle to Merry because his father and uncle are old-time diamond stars!”
Lee Chester showed his wrath at this charge.
“I guess that lets you out,” he exclaimed angrily. “You’re so blamed jealous that your brains are twisted, Bob Randall! Nobody gets truckled to around this school, unless he’s got the goods, and you’re a long ways from having them.”
“Well, I should hope so!” flashed back Randall. “I’d hate to have a crowd of decent fellows thinking that I was a little tin god on wheels! That’s what you seem to think about Merry.”
“Better take it easy, Bob,” advised Hunt Garding, with a frown. “Go out and cool off, and you’ll see it differently.”
“I see it well enough, thanks,” snapped Randall furiously. “It isn’t hard to see that a bunch of you fellows toady to Chip Merriwell because you think it’s going to get you something. That chap is overrated. He’s got ability, but it’s your crowd that has given him such a case of swelled head that he thinks he can cop off everything. He’s going to find that he can’t.”
“Aw, go away and sneeze! Your brain’s dusty!” jeered Chester.
“I’ll tell you two something!” cried Randall, shaking his fist and advancing a step. “We’re going to win this game on Monday, and I’m going to do it! Look at the team--it’s all shot to pieces! Billy McQuade has left school. Crockett’s going to quit. Clancy is off with Merry at Carsonville, instead of being back here practicing to get into shape to cover first. What kind of a captain would Chip make, when he allows this on the eve of an important game, tell me that?”