"All right; I wish you would." And while Sandow settled himself at the plate, Bronson turned his back and worked his fingers round the ball.
Believing in his heart that Hal would send for him, Bart had hung about the building. But as he heard the shouts, his curiosity got the better of his sulking, and he hastened to learn their cause, arriving just as Sandow made ready to bat.
With none of the spectacular "wind-ups," of which Bart was so fond, Bronson secured a sound footing, drew back his arm, took a quick swing, and released the ball.
To Hal, Gregory and Sandow, it seemed to be one of those straight, swift balls, and a grin suffused the batter's face as he prepared to meet it.
But though he swung viciously, just as the ball was in front of the plate, it jumped, and the bat missed it.
"Good boy! Great work!" shouted several of the onlookers, while Hal called "Strike one!" and Sandow rapped the plate disgustedly with the bat, bracing himself for the next ball.
Again Bronson served him the same sort, and again Sandow missed.
"Strike him out! Strike him out!" shouted the crowd.
"Shall I?" asked the boy, turning to Hal.
"If you can."