“That’s what I call dirty ball,” commented Alvin, making a dive ahead and arriving by a roundabout route at the home plate.
Meanwhile, the ball remained missing. One player after another plunged into the woods and joined in the search. Finally the umpire followed and then all the other players took a hand. You know how contrary inanimate things—as for instance a collar button—can be. That ball to this day has not been found, and the declaration of the umpire was justified:
“The shortest game of baseball on record; two balls pitched, one swipe and that’s all.”
CHAPTER VIII—The “Instructor In Woodcraft”
The ball game having ended so summarily, the Patrols gathered once more on the slope in front of the clubhouse to decide what should be done during the remainder of the forenoon.
“That’s what I call a mystery,” declared the chubby faced Corporal Robe, alluding to the disappearance of the ball; “I wonder whether any big bird flying overhead made off with it.”
“The explanation is simple,” said Alvin Landon as if in pity of the ignorance of the others.
“Well, you are so smart,” remarked the corporal, “suppose you explain for the benefit of the rest of us.
“Didn’t you observe that I put all my power in that sweep of the bat, and I caught the ball on the trade mark? Well, it is probably still sailing through the air and most likely will be found on the outskirts of Boothbay Harbor or at Christmas Cove.”
“Strange we never thought of that,” commented Robe, as if impressed. “I had a notion that the ball lodged somewhere among the limbs of the trees.”