Hodge trotted back to the netting and got the ball. As he came down with it, he said: “I’d like to know when you got onto that quirk. I’ve heard of ‘zigzag curve pitching,’ but I never took any stock in it. I don’t see how it is possible to give a ball two motions, so it will curve in and then turn and curve out without stopping.” “I discovered the trick by accident,” confessed Frank. “It’s a hard one, and no man can use it much, for it will knock the stuffing out of his wrist if he does. You know a drop-ball pitcher soon uses himself up. Well, this is worse on a fellow than pitching the drop.” “What does it do?” “Makes the back of the wrist lame, right here,” and Frank touched the spot. “There is a snap to it that does the job. The motion of the ball when it leaves the fingers gives it one curve, and the other curve is given to it by the snap of the wrist.” “Say, Merry.” “Yes.” “Don’t tell anybody about this.” “Don’t worry.” “Because if you do, they won’t believe it. There’s not one old ball player in a hundred who will believe any pitcher can make a ball curve in and out without stopping. There is such a thing as an outdrop, but a double-shoot--Great Scott! it will be the sensation of the season!” “I don’t propose to use it much.” “I should say not!” “It will be a great thing on some occasions.” “You bet! Why, it’ll paralyze a batter! He’ll think he’s got ’em.” Frank pitched two more of those queer curves, and then stopped, saying he did not dare to follow it up, for fear of hurting his wrist. “Look here, Merry,” cried Bart; “you’ll have to let me know when you are going to do that, or I’ll have a passed ball sure. And I want to know what the final curve will be, too. Can you pitch a rise and a drop the same as you do this in and out?” Frank shook his head. “I have tried all sorts of ways, but I can’t pitch a ball that will have a double motion up and down. Some fellow may strike it some time, but I am inclined to think it an impossibility.” “Did you ever see a pitcher who could pitch a double-shoot before you?” “Yes.” “Who?” “Billy Mains.” “Who’s Billy Mains?” “He’s a tall, angular Yankee from somewhere down in Maine--Windham is the town, I believe.” “Where did you see him?” “With the Bostons.” “I don’t remember him.”