“Play ball!” called the umpire, and Andy took his place behind the rubber, while Dunk went to the mound. The two chums felt not a little nervous, for this was their first real college contest, and the result meant much for them.
“Here’s where the Tiger eats the Bulldog!” cried a voice Andy recognized as that of Ben Snow. Ben had come on with the Princeton delegation the night before, and had renewed acquaintance with Andy. They had spent some time together, Ben and the players stopping at the Hotel Taft.
There was a laugh at Ben’s remark, and the Princeton cheer broke forth as Dunk delivered his first ball. Then the game was on.
“Wow! That was a hot one!”
“And he fanned the air!”
“Feed ’em another one like that, Dunk, and you’ll have ’em eating out of your hand and begging for more!”
Joyous shouts and cheers greeted Dunk’s first ball, for the Princeton batter had missed it cleanly, though he swung at it with all his force.
“Good work!” Andy signaled to his chum, as he sent the ball back. Then, stooping and pawing in the dirt, Andy gave the sign for a high out. He thought he had detected indications that the batter would be more easily deceived by such a delivery.
Dunk, glancing about to see that all his supporting players were in position, shook his head in opposition to Andy’s signal. Then he signed that he would shoot an in-curve.
Andy had his doubts as to the wisdom of this, but it was too late to change for Dunk was winding up for his delivery. A moment later he sent in the ball with vicious force. Andy had put out his hands to gather it into his big mitt, but it was not to be.