The first few balls Bill pitched went a bit wild, and his brother did not pay much attention to them, but when, after he had delivered about the seventh one, and it went wide of the plate, Cap called:
“Get ’em over, Bill. They’re a bit too far out.”
“Too wide! What’s the matter? That cut off as big a corner of the plate as you’d want.”
“What? It was four inches out.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Bill. “You can’t see straight. Here, how’s this?”
The ball shot from his hand, but Bill had to step some distance out to gather it into his big mitt.
“Worser and worser,” he said with a smile. “Guess your vacation didn’t do you any good.”
“Say, what’s the matter?” demanded Bill somewhat peevishly. “I’m getting those over all right.”
“Then there’s something the matter with your eyes,” declared his brother seriously, and he looked anxiously at the younger lad.
“Watch this!” called Bill.