“Just wanted to encourage him, that’s all,” he said. “Now he’ll have to put ’em over.”
But the next two balls were wide, which made it seem that Dick’s control was rather poor.
“Oh, come! come!” cried the batter. “You can’t fool me, kid. Don’t wear yourself out. Don’t waste your strength. Get ’em over, get ’em over.”
Even as Pumper was speaking Dick delivered a speedy one that seemed to make the air sizzle.
Welch struck under it at least a foot.
“Hello, hello,” muttered Leyden, “that was a pretty jump ball. Can you throw it when you wish, youngster?”
“If I’m in proper form, I can. Occasionally I can’t make it jump as much as I would like. It’s one of the hardest balls to pitch, because there seems to be no regular way to throw it that will give positive and consistent results. Sometimes when I try hardest to make it jump it pans out to be merely a high straight ball.”
“Do you pitch a raise ball the same as you do the jump?”
“Oh, no,” answered Dick quickly. “The two are pitched in entirely different ways. The jump is the result of extreme speed with an overhand delivery. I’ll pitch the raise ball now.”
These final words were spoken in such a low tone that they did not reach the ears of Welch. Grasping the ball exactly as if he meant to pitch an outcurve, Dick swung his arm, dropping his hand nearly to the level of his knee. The ball left his hand and came floating up toward the batter’s shoulder in a most deceptive manner. There was no great speed, and it seemed easy enough to hit the ball. Nevertheless, Welch struck under it, for, even though he knew it was a rise, he found it something he could not accurately gauge.