Having practically stated that he would do all sorts of things to Dick’s delivery, Welch sought permission to lead off in the batting and was given a nod by Emery.
For the first time Billings was a trifle worried, for he feared the freshman might not be up to his usual form. If this should be the case and the boy was batted freely and heavily, Billings knew he would “get the laugh” from those chaps who were eagerly watching for him to make a mistake in judgment.
“As this is not to be ordinary batting practice, Emery,” he said, “why don’t you appoint an umpire to call balls and strikes? That’s the only way to make a fair test of it.”
“You might do that, Leyden,” suggested Emery. “It will give you a chance to watch the kid’s curves. You can tell in a few moments if he has anything up his sleeve.”
The coach jogged out and took his position back of the pitcher’s stand. A few of the regulars and a number of subs were placed on bases and in the field. Del Cranch, the catcher, leisurely sauntered into position some twenty-five feet behind the batter. There was no reason why he should get under the stick where he might be hurt, just to limber his arm a bit, Dick threw a few balls to the chap on first.
“Now watch me pound this wonderful freshman’s curves,” invited Welch, in a low tone, as he walked out to the plate.
“Pumper is too confident,” muttered Dudley Towne. “I’ve batted against Merriwell, and he isn’t easy, although I wouldn’t tell him so for the world.”
The first ball delivered by Dick looked good to Welch, but it took a queer inward twist, passing close to his knees, and he did not even foul it.
“One strike,” called Leyden. “You’ll have to use better judgment than that, Welch. It didn’t even cross the inside corner.”
Pumper shrugged his shoulders and grinned.