"Say, look here!" exclaimed Russell with a intentional fierceness. "If you don't get over it, and pitch good ball, I'll give you the best beating up you ever had when we get to the clubhouse! I'm not going to stand being laughed at because you're such a rotten pitcher! Do you get me!" and he leered savagely at Joe.
The effect on the young pitcher was like an electric shock. He had never been spoken to like that before. But it was just the tonic he needed.
"I get you," he said briefly.
"It's a good thing you do!" said Russell brutally, and, as he walked back to his place his face softened. "I hated to speak that way to the lad," he murmured to himself, "but it was the only way to get him over his fright."
CHAPTER XXI
A QUEER MESSAGE
The next practice ball Joe sent in went cleanly over the plate, and landed with a thud in the catcher's glove. Russell nodded at Joe, to indicate that was what he wanted.
"Play ball!" directed the umpire, and the batter moved up closer to the plate.
Stooping low, and concealing his signal with his big glove, Russell called for a straight, swift ball. Joe gave it, and as it was in the proper place, though the striker did not attempt to hit it, the umpire called: