The crowd began to shout, for this unexpected turn of affairs was enough to awaken their dormant interest. Gamp stepped out, his teeth set and his eyes flashing.
“It’s my tut-tut-tut-turn, by gum!” he said.
Nesbitt showed nervousness. His first one was over, and Joe sent it skimming along the ground to the short-stop. It was too hot for Robinson to handle cleanly, and the bags were filled.
Frank rushed down to the bench, speaking to Swiftwing, who stepped out with a bat.
“Don’t hit at a ball,” commanded Merry. “Let him put them right over, but don’t swing at one of them. He will give you a pass to first.”
Nesbitt looked at Merry, who returned that glance with interest, and something seemed to unnerve the pitcher then and there.
Although he longed to strike at the ball, Swiftwing obeyed Frank. Nesbitt tried to put the first one over, but it was a ball, and a ball was called.
That made the pitcher more nervous than ever. He took the utmost pains about the next one. It was a strike.
“Drive it out!” shouted the crowd.