Joe hoped he could make it three straight strikes, but his next was called a ball, and the Morningside supporters let out a yell of gratification.
"There's his glass arm showing! He's going to pieces!" they yelled. Joe shut his jaw grimly. He was going to fool the batter if possible, and the next ball he sent in was a puzzling inshoot.
Instinctively Dunlap started away from the plate, but he need not have moved, for the ball, with a neat little twist, passed him at a safe distance, and at a point where he could almost have hit it had he tried. But he did not move his bat, and an instant later the umpire called:
"Three strikes—batter out!"
Then indeed was there a gasp of dismay and protest from the big crowd of Morningside sympathizers, and the visiting nine.
"Say," began Dunlap Spurr, "that was never——"
"You dry up!" commanded his captain with a laugh. "It was a peach of a ball, and you ought to have hit it. Don't begin that way. We can beat 'em without that. Good work, Matson, but you can't keep it up. Come on, Lee; you're up next. Carlburg on deck."
Joe was immensely pleased, but he knew it was
