“You must make allowances for his modesty,” said Jimmy. “He’s really rather a shark at it. He can tell you just how to pitch any ball ever discovered, from a straight one to a ‘floater.’”
“Question is, I guess,” Bert laughed, “whether he can pitch ’em. I know how to pitch a ‘knuckle ball,’ but I can’t do it. I remember now, Baker, you pitched some on the second last year, didn’t you?”
“Only three games, or parts of them, Winslow. I dare say I won’t be good enough this year, but—I thought I’d try.”
“Of course,” said Bert heartily. “Nothing like trying. The trouble is, though, you’ve got some good ones to stack up against, eh? There’s Nate Leddy and Ben Myatt——”
“And Gus Weston,” observed Jimmy gravely.
Bert smiled. “Just the same, Gus has pitched some good games for us. But isn’t he a wonder when he goes up?”
Jimmy chuckled. “Gus Weston can go up quicker and higher than any fellow I ever saw,” he said. “And when he is wild——” He ended with an impressive whistle.
“He looked pretty promising last spring,” continued Bert. “Remember the game he pitched against Middleboro? They only got six hits off him, I think.”
“Yes, and Kelly is another chap that is likely to make good this year,” said Jimmy. “Oh, we’re pretty well off for twirlers, but you wait until Dud gets going. And speaking of going, Dud, what do you say if we do a little of it?”