“It didn’t come within a mile of the plate,” retorted the batter.
“Come here, Chesty!” called Ned, turning to the spectators. “Come on and umpire this game. This fellow can’t tell whether the ball is going to hit him or whether it started in the other direction.”
“Yea, I’ll do that,” responded “Lord Chesterfield” as he arose, carefully brushed his clothes with his hands, and took the position to which he had been called.
“Two strikes on this fellow,” said Ned as he replaced his mask and gave his chest-protector a pull. “Now go ahead. Call it two balls. I don’t know just how many he deserves.” Signaling to Dan to repeat his last effort Ned stretched forth his hands for his pitcher to begin again.
Once more Dan sent in a swift inshoot, that as it came to the plate suddenly appeared to turn and vindictively try to hit the player at the bat.
“Three balls,” called Chesty glibly.
Ned glared at him as in duty bound, but did not speak as he returned the ball to Dan.
“Four balls! Take your base!” shouted Chesty once more, after Dan had pitched another ball.
Ned started to protest, but a low laugh from Dan caused him to check the word he was about to speak and he returned the ball.