A shout went up from the admirers of the home team. Browning looked disgusted as he flung aside his bat and retired to the bench.
“I’m a chump!” he growled. “Why, a baby could have knocked that out of the lot!”
“Let him gug-gug-gug-give me one of them darn things!” muttered Gamp, as he picked out a bat. “Bet a Hubbard squash I’ll hit it!”
But Nesbitt started with a high one that pulled Gamp easily, and a strike was called.
More than ever Merry feared that the clever work at the start would be wasted through the failure of the following batters to connect with the sphere.
Another high one followed, but Joe shook his head, though he came near swinging.
“No, ye dud-dud-don’t!” he muttered.
Nesbitt grinned. Then came a drop, and a second strike was called on Joe, who failed to swing at the ball.
Again Nesbitt grinned.
Gamp was anxious now, and his anxiety led him to go after an out drop, which he could not touch.