“Then—then I will. I didn’t know——” Dud’s voice trailed off into silence as he dropped an embarrassed gaze. Hugh smiled and nodded.
“Right-o, Baker! Glad to have you.”
Dud, wishing he hadn’t made such a fool of himself, bent stern attention on his glove until the red had subsided from his cheeks. “He will think me an awful kid,” he reflected. “Asking things like that and—and blushing like a silly girl! And of course he couldn’t say anything else. You won’t catch me going!”
Further self-communing was cut short by Mr. Sargent. “All right, Baker,” called the coach. “Warm up, will you? Brooks will catch you. See if you can’t steady down today.”
Dud squirmed out of his sweater, pulled his glove on and joined Ed Brooks in front of the first-base stand. Brunswick had taken Kelly’s place in the box and it would be Dud’s turn next. As Brooks tossed the ball to him and spread his hands invitingly wide apart Dud hoped hard that he would be able to steady down, but doubted it. As yet the recollection of that impulsive question to Ordway still made his face burn. Consequently when, after pitching a half-dozen easy ones to warm his arm, he began to put on a little speed, he was pleased as well as surprised to find that some of his old control had come back. Encouraged, he made greater efforts to put the ball where he wanted to and, unconsciously, began to “steam up.” But Brooks cautioned him and Dud slowed down.
“That’s pitching ’em,” called Brooks. “They’re all straight, though, Dud, or pretty near it. Try a slant.”
But Dud resisted the temptation to “hook” one and shook his head. Instead, he sent over a slow one that fooled Brooks completely and brought from the latter a laugh at his own expense. “Do it again,” he urged, as he threw the ball back. “I want to get used to those.”
“I’ll wait until you’re not expecting it,” laughed Dud.
There was no line-up today, but first and second-string players were batting and running the bases, taking their places in the field ultimately to let others come in. Weston, Kelly and Brunswick had held the mound for an inning or two apiece, while Ben Myatt and Nate Leddy were trying to improve their hitting, a thing that the latter was rather weak at. Presently the outfielders were called in in a body and others took their places, and changes were made in the infield. Brunswick went to the shower and Dud to the pitcher’s box. Pete Gordon was still catching.
“All right, Baker!” called Pete. “Strike ’em out, boy. Put her over now.”