Tom uttered a cry of surprise, and——
“Give me the ball, Mr. George,” he said steadily. “I’ll do it, sir! Tell Sam I’ll throw it, please. And tell him not to reach too far, because we can try again, sir.”
“Hello, there! Tom Pollock will throw it! Don’t reach for it! We’ve got plenty of balls! Get that?”
“All right!” came the answer, clearer now. “Tell Tom, ‘One finger’!”
[CHAPTER XXVI]
CATCHER CRAIG
Tom smiled a bit tremulously as he heard Sam’s plucky answer. “One finger, eh?” he thought. Well, it couldn’t be that, for in their signal code one finger meant a fast ball, and it was beyond Tom’s or anyone else’s power to throw a fast ball at the angle confronting him. Judging the distance as best he might, his gaze on the tiny light that glowed five stories above him, he stepped slowly backward across the roof. Finally he stopped.
“How far is it, do you think?” he asked Mr. George.
“About ninety feet, I’d say,” was the answer.