Kingdon beckoned to Harry Kirby. "You umpire," he invited.
Kirby looked at Pence for permission. The latter said:
"Oh, go ahead. The blond person's beginning to feel weary already. When I've poured a few more into him he'll claim his lip's cracked, or something, and quit."
Kingdon smiled as Kirby ran to take his station, adjusting his mask.
"Now, son," muttered the Walcott Hall backstop, "keep your eye on the ball."
The southpaw wound up again, and the ball whizzed in and slapped against Kingdon's glove. The latter held it and looked at Kirby.
"Ball!" Kirby was forced to proclaim.
"What?" ejaculated the boy on the mound. "Give me that——"
He caught Kingdon's accurate throw, and immediately flung another hot one. "How's that?" he demanded exultantly.
Kirby actually flushed. "Ball again," he said.