CHAPTER XXVIII
AN EXCITING BATTLE
The “that” was a brilliant bit of fielding “pulled off” by Teddy.
Fred had varied the grounders by sending up a high fly into short centre field. It was away over Teddy’s head, and it seemed impossible for him to reach it. But he had started for it at the crack of the bat, and, running like a deer, he just managed to get under it with his ungloved hand. He clung to it desperately, however, and, although he rolled over and over, he rose with the ball in his hand. It was a neat bit of fielding and Teddy got a round of hand clapping from those who had seen it.
“Wasn’t that a peach?” asked Wayland enthusiastically.
“It certainly was!” agreed the professor warmly. “I didn’t think he had a chance to reach it.”
“Of course, one swallow doesn’t make a summer,” conceded Wayland, “and perhaps he couldn’t do it often.”
“I don’t think it was a fluke,” said the professor. “I saw him make a swift pick-up a few minutes ago that nine out of ten would have missed. And he threw down to first almost on a line. The ball didn’t rise more than three inches on the way down.”
“If he can keep up that kind of work, he’ll give Ward all he can do to hold his job,” declared Ned.
“Baseball ability seems to run in the family,” said the professor. “Fred is a first-rate pitcher, and, with him in the box besides yourself, I think we’ll be well fortified in that position. Besides, he’s a good hitter, and on days when he isn’t pitching, you can put him in to bat at times when a hit is needed.”
“Yes,” agreed Ned, “he’ll be a great big element in our success this season. That outcurve of his is awfully hard to hit, and his drop ball is a pippin.”