“Dave,” Henry Whelan said. “I want to get something straightened out. Why didn’t you want me to shoot those Krauts?”
“Let’s not go into it, Henry,” David said. “The less talking there is the better.”
“That’s right,” Carmen Ruiz said. “We better just forget it. A thing like that gets around and the first thing you know some pressed-pants prick of an officer has you up for a court of inquiry and God knows what else. Well, I wasn’t ready for the Bisons or anywhere near, but they were always looking out for local talent and they offered me this tryout. I shouldn’t have taken it. I wasn’t even eighteen. The batting practice pitcher they started me out on was a sour old crock of a southpaw on the way down from Cincinnati. The miserable s.o.b. would never think of giving a break to a kid on the
