For among the hundreds of pitchers who had worked and tried and schemed to learn his secret, it was not probable that one had entirely succeeded, therefore they gave up in despair, and became scoffers, saying there was no such thing as the double-shoot.
Among the candidates for pitching-honors was Dade Morgan, and he worked persistently and faithfully.
On the first day of Frank’s appearance in the cage one of the coaches asked him to watch Morgan’s work and see what he thought of it. Merry did so for a few moments, and Dade flushed hotly when he saw this, though he kept at it without a break.
When Frank had moved away the man who was coaching Morgan said:
“Try to throw that drop with just the same motion you use in throwing your other curves. You give yourself dead away every time you start to throw a drop. The batter would know just what was coming.”
Dade’s dark eyes flashed and drooped. For one moment he betrayed anger, and then he smiled sweetly, saying:
“I’ll do my level best.”
But Bertrand Defarge quickly found an opportunity to slip over to Morgan and sneer:
“So you got a call-down! I knew it would come the minute Merriwell saw what you were doing. He’s jealous, and you don’t stand the least show of making the nine. You may as well give up trying now.”
“How about you?”