"Surely," murmured Dalzell. "What shall it be?"
"I think I know how you get that grin of yours, that conquering
grin on your face, but I wish you'd show me how you make it stick!"
"Call you out for that some day," hissed Dalzell, as, with heightened
color, he made his way to catcher's post of duty behind the plate.
Dave Darrin received the ball, and handled it, after the ways
of his kind, for a few seconds, to detect any irregularities there
might be to its surface or any flaws in its roundness.
"Play ball!" called the umpire.
With Beckwith holding the stick, and Durville on deck, Dick had
time to do what he was most anxious to do---to make a study of
any new things that Darrin might have learned.
Dave appeared to be fully warmed at the start. "Strike one!"
called the umpire, though Beckwith had not dared offer.
Then:
"Strike two!"
Dick began to see light. Dave was in fine form, and was sending
them in with such terrific speed that it was barely possible to
gauge them. That style of pitching carried big hopes for a Navy
victory!
CHAPTER XIX
WHEN THE ARMY FANS WINCED
As Darrin sent in the third ball Beckwith made a desperate sweep for
it. It was not to be his, however.
"Three strikes! Striker out!"
That broad grin had come back to Dan Dalzell's face, as he held up
the neatly mitted ball for an instant, then hurled it lazily back
to Dave Darrin.
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