“You’re doing nobly!” laughed Hodge as he watched the batter. “Look out for that third strike! The ball has a habit of stopping somewhere up in the air and waiting for you to strike at it before it decides to come on.”
“I’ll wait for it,” retorted Kiggins and a moment later he lunged heavily at the ball which Dan threw with terrific speed.
“Three strikes! You’re out,” declared Samson.
“That’s enough,” said Dan as he dropped the ball and started from the field.
“Give us another round. You caught us off our guard,” called Kiggins. Without a protest, Dan once more picked up the ball, called to Ned to take his position behind the bat, and prepared to resume his work.
Again in order the three players faced the new boy, but with the exception of a high foul which Hodge raised, not one was able to hit the ball.
“Come on, fellows!” called Walter as he raced in from the field. “This is enough. I’ve grown stiff waiting for a ball to come my way. It wouldn’t make any difference if you came to bat a dozen times. It would be the same thing right over again.” Walter’s elation at Dan’s success was great now. The three heavy hitters of the school nine had each struck out twice in succession as they tried to hit the ball.
The face of Gus Kiggins was a study. Anger, chagrin, rage—all were expressed in it. The sight caused Walter to laugh, for he thought he understood the feelings of the burly player. His interest was keener when he saw that Samson had advanced to Dan and was speaking warmly to him. Ned, a moment later, joined the two and his enthusiasm was unconcealed.
“Where did the country bumpkin come from?” asked Gus Kiggins of Walter.
“Oh, I found him this summer. He struck out fifteen in one game! He’s a wonder! I guess we’ll all feel that the Tait School has somebody to take Red’s place now.”