Then he wheeled
like a flash to confront the batsman.
This time, by a quick substitution, Dick held the home-made ball.
He twirled it for an instant, then sent it in toward the plate.
"Just---as---easy!" scoffed Ted, whirling his bat, then reaching
out for the ball.
Crack! Teall hit it soundly.
Bang! With such force had the batsman struck that he exploded
the large torpedo inside the home-made ball. There was a rattling
explosion, and Teall, unable to figure, in that first instant,
what had happened, sent the bat flying.
"Ow-ow-ow!" yelled startled Ted, leaping up into the air. When
he alighted he ran a dozen or more steps as fast as he could go,
then halted and looked around him. For an instant Teall's face
expressed panic.
Then mocking laughter from hundreds of throats greeted him.
"I knew any little thing out of the ordinary would rattle you,"
smiled Dick. "Don't lose your nerve. It wasn't anything."
"Just a fresh idiot's attempt to be funny!" growled Teall, his
face now red with mortification.
"Laugh, Ted, confound you!" urged Tom Reade. "Laugh! Don't be
a grouch."
"What you need, Teall," teased Dave Darrin, "is some nerve tonic.
You ought not to let yourself get into such bad shape that you
almost faint when you hit the ball.
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