As Dick stood ready to let go of the ball he seemed inclined to
dawdle over it. It wasn't going to be one of his snappiest---any
onlooker could judge that, at least, so it seemed.
Even Durville was fooled, though he did not let up much in the way
of alertness.
Now the ball came on, with not much speed or steam behind it.
Durville took a good look, made some calculation for possible
deception, then made his swing with the stick.
Slightly forward Durville had to bend, in order to get low enough
to make the crack.
As his bat swished half lazily through the air, Durville "ducked"
suddenly, for the upbounding ball had gone so close to his ear
as to seem bent on removing some of the skin off that member.
Greg, who had been stooping, was up in time to mit the ball.
Then Durville, his face flushing, heard Holmes chuckle.
"One or two more, if you like, sir," called Dick, facing the coach.
"But I think, sir, I'd better be in finer trim before I do too
much tossing in one afternoon."
"You've done enough, Prescott," cried Lieutenant Lawrence, stepping
forward and resting one hand cordially on Dick's shoulder.
"Train with us for a fortnight, and you'll take all the hide off
of the Navy's mascot goat."
There was a laugh from the members of the squad who stood within
hearing. But, as Dick Prescott and Greg Holmes walked over to
the side of the field they were greeted by a cheer from all who
had watched their performance.
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