Explore "Lefty O' the Big League" by Burt L. Standish on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"A rah, rah boy, is he? " sneered a voice from the group not far away. "I see his finish."
Lefty knew they were talking about him. He had been aware of the fact for five minutes or so, but this was the first remark which had reached his ears in its entirety. Sitting in a corner of the Hatchford House lobby, he turned his head slightly and met the belligerent glance of a burly, dark-browed, full-lipped fellow of twenty-six or seven, who was lounging against a pillar a little way off.