Dick gave a slight start as he heard these words.
“You signal, Brad,” he instantly said. “No matter what sort of a signal I make, I will take your sign for the ball.”
Then they returned to their positions.
Dick received a sign for a drop from the Texan, but gave a hitch at his trousers with his hand, which meant under ordinary circumstances that he would use a rise.
He threw a drop.
Jarley struck over it at least eighteen inches and looked surprised.
“The signs of the times are not so apparent!” chirped Wiley from the bench, a grin of delight overspreading his swarthy face.
When the ball was returned to Dick, he held it with both hands and lifted it above his head, which was his usual signal for an outcurve.
At the same time Brad gave him a sign calling for a straight ball.
Dick threw a straight one.