"What did Lyford say?"
"Nothing. He didn't need to say anything."
"Owen!" called Poole, and Rob, picking up his bat, took the place before the net which Peacock had just vacated. He felt disappointed and irritated; disappointed because, having made Patterson's cause his own, he was himself hurt by the failure; irritated because he was sure that if Poole had only left him alone another ten minutes he could have pulled his friend safely through. He stood at the plate with his jaw set, and his eyes shining bright, ready to hit and hit hard. O'Connell was pitching for the batsmen, and O'Connell asked nothing better than the privilege of striking out this arrogant freshie, who had presumed to offer instruction to him in the cage, and had dropped him so contemptuously for not receiving it. So he tried a deceiver in the shape of a hot outcurve—O'Connell's strongest card—which starts wide and swings over the plate. Owen felt savage, but not savage enough to lose his wits. He had learned long since from McLennan that the great batsmen study the pitcher's motive and try to guess in advance the ball that he will pitch. Knowing O'Connell's strong and weak points, he had no difficulty in recognizing the ball that came spinning threateningly toward him. So he waited unmoved, and swung at it as it broke over the plate as if the ball itself were the animate cause of his disappointment.
Bat and ball met squarely with a crash; the ball sped away, not in a high parabola that gives the lazy outfielder an easy put out, nor in the regular sharp bounds which a clever baseman may handle, but well above the reach of any infielder, and striking the ground too soon and with too hot a pace to be held by the outfield. A hard hit like this, if it passes between the outfielders on a deep, smooth field, rolls forever.
"A bully hit!" exclaimed Durand, as Owen, his frown transformed into a smirk of satisfaction, took his place with the rest. "That's good for three bases sure."
"I don't know about that," Owen replied modestly, mentally resolving, however, that if he ever made such a hit in a real game he wouldn't stop to look round till he had passed third.
"Too hard," was the comment of the coach to Poole, "but good form."
"I'm hoping to get a good hitting outfielder out of him," replied Poole. "Carle told me Owen's batting average was always high. I suppose Borland will do all our catching."
Patterson came up for his trial. O'Connell, angry with himself for having let Owen get a long drive out of him, set himself to fool the pitcher at least.
"Don't try for big hits!" warned the coach. "Just watch the ball and make sure you hit it. Wait for the good ones!"