“We’re going to get some batting practice now,” he said. “You pitch first, will you, Towne? Wake up a little and give ’em something to hit. Don’t simply lob over some lazy straight ones. You haven’t got to pitch your arm off, but you can use a few curves, you know.”
Towne scowled and looked sulky.
“My wing is lame, cap,” he said. “Don’t you think I’ve used it about enough this afternoon? Of course, I’ll pitch if you say so, but——”
“If your arm is lame, I should think you’d keep it covered up when you get through working,” said Emery warmly. “Why, you don’t even put on a sweater, Towne. A man without sense enough to take care of his arm is bound to have a lame wing the most of the time. We can get along without you. Where’s that freshman, Toleman? He’s the only fellow who really does give the batters any practice that’s worth while.”
“Toleman hasn’t been out this afternoon,” said Leyden. “Billings was just proposing that we should use this youngster in batting practice.”
“Oh, hello, Merriwell!” cried Emery cordially. “What are you doing here? All right, come ahead and pitch a while, will you?”
“This was not my proposition,” said Dick. “I simply came round to look on. Thought I might pick up some points for my own benefit, you know.”
At this Welch laughed unpleasantly.
“Just peel off and pitch a while, Merriwell,” he said. “I wish you would. I’d like to bat against you. I’ve never had a chance. You’re pretty clever at striking out freshmen, but you’ll find it different against real batters. I’m a fairly good hitter myself, and I don’t think you could strike me out in a week.”
“Perhaps not,” admitted Dick.