“What of that?”
“He’s looking this way now.”
Then Hazen suddenly held up his hand and made a peculiar sign. It was impossible to tell whether Derring saw and understood or not.
“What are you doing?” asked Wescott.
“Making my last bid for this game,” declared the corpulent man.
“Well, you must have nerve!” exclaimed Wescott. “That fellow can’t throw the game now.”
“Perhaps not; but we’ll see. Look at that. Ha!”
Gamp was the batter, and at this juncture the umpire called a strike on him that was over his head.
“Do you think he did that intentionally?” whispered Wescott, as the crowd roared in derision.
“Wait,” was the only thing Hazen would say.