"Just take it easy, kid," he advised. "Don't try to put too much stuff on the ball at first, and pitch as though we were only practising back of the clubhouse. Don't let those blamed rooters get you nervous, either. Take your time before each ball, and we'll pull through all right. Now, just get out there, and show them what you've got." Bert took his position in the box, and the umpire tossed him a brand new ball. Remembering the catcher's advice, he wound up very deliberately, and pitched a swift, straight one square over the middle of the plate. The batsman had expected the "greenhorn" to try a fancy curve, and so was not prepared for a ball of this kind. "One str-r-rike!" yelled the umpire, and the catcher muttered approvingly to himself. The batter, however, took a fresh grip on his bat, and resolved to "knock the cover off" the next one. Bert delivered a wide out curve, and the batter swung hard, but only touched the ball, for a foul, and had another strike called on him. "Aw, that kid's running in luck," he thought. "But watch me get to him this time." The next ball Bert pitched looked like an easy one, and the batter, measuring its flight carefully with his eye, drew his bat back and swung with all the weight of his body. Instead of sending the ball over the fence, however, as he had confidently expected, the momentum of his swing was spent against empty air, and so great was its force that the bat flew out of his hand. "Three strikes," called the umpire, and amid a riot of cheering from the home rooters the batter gazed stupidly about him. "By the great horn spoon," he muttered, under his breath, "somebody must have come along and stolen that ball just as I was going to hit it. I'll swear that if it was in the air when I swung at it that I would have landed it." As he walked to the bench the captain said, "What's the matter with you, Al? Has the freshie got you buffaloed?" "Aw, nix on that, cap," replied the disgruntled batter. "Wait until you get up there. Either that kid's having a streak of luck or else he's got that ball hypnotized. That last one he pitched just saw my bat coming and dodged under it. I think he's got 'em trained." "Why, you poor simp," laughed the captain; "just wait till I get up there. Why, we all saw that last ball you bit on so nicely. It was a cinch, wasn't it, boys?" It sure was, they all agreed, but the unfortunate object of these pleasantries shook his head in a puzzled way, and stared at Bert. As it happened, the next batter was the same who had scored the home run in the first part of the game, and he swaggered confidently to the plate. Bert had overheard what the coach had told Winters in regard to this batter, so he delivered a low ball, which the batter let pass. "One ball," called the umpire, and the captain of the visitors' team remarked, "I thought he couldn't last. That was just a streak of 'beginner's luck,' that's all."