Bingham swung at a wide one and missed, and Jonesie, who had never before tried to catch behind a swinging bat, turned his back and dexterously stopped the ball. The audience approved wildly. Bingham scowled. Tubby, recovering some of his lost science, sent a nice straight ball across, and Bingham, trying to shut his ears to Jonesie’s artless prattle and not succeeding, struck too late. Jonesie stepped nimbly aside and ducked, and the ball collided with Gus Peasley. Gus said “Ugh!” in disgusted tones and doubled up. However, as he was properly guarded by a body protector, no harm was done, and Jonesie sent back the ball and followed it with a flood of conversation.
“That was a dandy, Tubby! Sort of a fade-away, what? Say, you’ve got it with you to-day, all right! That’s pitching ’em, Tubby! He couldn’t even see it. His sight isn’t what it was since he blew up the laboratory!”
“Say!” Bingham turned threateningly upon Jonesie. “You cut that out or I’ll beat you, you fresh kid!”
“No offense, Bing——”
“And don’t call me ‘Bing’!”
“Just as you say, old top! I only mentioned that laboratory experiment of yours because——”
“You say that again and——”
“How was it?” demanded Jonesie as the ball settled into his mitt.
“Strike three!” replied Gus promptly.
“What? You—you robber!” shrieked Bingham. “I’ve a good mind to—to——” He started toward Gus, but Jonesie interposed.