CHAPTER IX
SOME PITCHING!
There was a change in the aspect of the
crowd and its behavior, for this was more
like something worth while, and a few
were beginning to think it possible they might
have underestimated the ability of the southpaw
slabman. Yet, lost confidence had not been
wholly restored, and they waited to see what the
final result would be, the Kingsbridgers silent,
the Bancroft crowd still laughing and scoffing.
"Never mind, Wop," called the coacher at third. "He can't do it agin. If he does, give it a ride. Come on, Trollop; git off that mattress—tear yourself free. On your toes! Ready to scorch if Wop biffs it. Git away, away, away off! More than that! I'll watch the ball. Come on! Come on!"
Locke drove Trollop back to the sack once, following which he quickly pitched the third ball to Grady. He had a way of throwing every one in almost precisely the same manner, which prevented a batter from judging what was coming by
