“Strike!”
Hi stopped the ball without holding it and set himself for the third. Once more that disconcerting swing and the whip-like action of the arm, and for the third time the umpire called:
“Strike! Striker out!”
“That's the hole,” yelled Hi.
The Porcupines were amazed. Hi looked at the ball in his hand, then at the slight figure of The Pilot.
“I say! where do you get it?”
“What?” asked Moore innocently.
“The gait!”
“The what?”
“The gait! the speed, you know!”