Wiley now became the butt of ridicule for the crowd, but he did not mind it in the least. In fact, the more they tried to josh and guy him the more he seemed to like it.
He declined to swing at two coaxers.
“Nay, nay, Merry!” cried the sailor. “I am onto your tricks now. You would betray your bosom comrade. You’ll have to put it over before I wiggle my wand again.”
“I see you are onto me,” said Merry. “It is useless for me to try to fool you, so I’ll give you one straight over. Here it is.”
Merry threw his peculiar “dope ball.” Even though Wiley himself was a pitcher, and he often used a slow ball, he was fooled this time. It seemed to come up as large as a balloon, and he struck at it.
He hit it, too.
But he simply popped a tiny little fly into the air, and Merry sprang forward and caught it.
The spectators roared and shouted, asking the sailor if that was his wonderful four-base hit.
Wiley shook his head sadly.