“We’re old college chumps, aren’t we, Merry?” he inquired.
“Sure,” nodded Frank.
“Then give me a straight one right over the plate. I don’t like that new kink you’re pitching. It’s like a foreign language to me. I’ll make it all right with you if you give me one I can hit.”
He smiled in his bland manner and seemed to think Merry would comply.
“Here it is,” laughed Frank.
It seemed like a straight one, and the sailor swung hard a second time.
He struck under it several inches, for the ball swerved upward and outward in the same remarkable manner that had bothered every batter to face Merry.
“Two strikes!” declared the umpire.
“That’s criminal, Merry—criminal!” exclaimed Wiley reproachfully. “How could you deceive your bosom friend like that? I thought guile and deception was not to be found in your heart, but now, alas! I realize that you are like other mortals of common clay.”