The first thing Dick insisted on was that Keene should persist in obtaining control of the ball. This he declared was far more essential than speed or curves. The man who possessed perfect control and had a good head on his shoulders could often deceive a batter who could not be deceived by the chap whose control was imperfect, even though the latter had everything else that a pitcher needs.
The moment Keene could, put the ball where he wished to put it Dick began on other things, and from that time the pupil made rapid progress.
In practice on Friday, the day before the scheduled game with Cornell, Keene did some pitching for batting practice. It happened that Dick was present and on the bench. Wilbur decided to try his newly learned kinks upon his comrades, and did so with the most surprising and satisfying results. Safe hits were few and far between. When hit at all the ball had a nasty way of popping into the air or rolling punkily along the ground. To the exasperation of the players, they could not seem to get their bats squarely against the ball.
“What do you think of that, Leyden?” inquired Emery, trotting up to the coach. “Keene seems to be in pretty good trim to-day, doesn’t he?”
“And you know why, don’t you?” said Leyden. “He’s the only pitcher who has taken the freshman Merriwell as a coach. The rest are prejudiced against Merriwell or else they have too much foolish pride. Keene is certainly improving. You’d better consider putting him into the box to-morrow. It would be a good time to try him out.”
“But you haven’t told him that he’s to pitch, have you?”
“Hardly. I don’t choose a pitcher so far ahead of a game.”
“Well,” said Leyden, “I urge you once more to consider my suggestion. Keene hasn’t been given much real work. Start him on the slab to-morrow. If they pound him, pull him off.”
Mike Lynch dropped into an old curio shop and inspected an old-fashioned powder-and-ball pistol.
“Will it shoot all right?” inquired Mike, as he snapped the weapon.
“Vy, certainly, mine frendt—vy, certainly it vill,” answered the Jew proprietor. “It vos a goot pistol. It vos choost as goot as it efer vos. But you don’t vant it to shoot vid, do you? Most beople buy such dings as a decorations. Dey put dem up on der vall to look ad.”