Straight and rather slowly it went toward the plate.
It looked like the easiest ball that had been sent in so far.
Coach Luce, with a calculating eye, watched it come, moving his bat ever so little.

Then he struck.

But the spit ball, having traveled to the hitting point, dropped nearly twenty inches.
The bat fanned air, and the catcher, crouching just behind the coach, gathered in the ball.
Luce was anything but mortified.

A gleam of exultation lit up his eyes as he swung the bat exultantly over his head.

In a swift outburst of old college enthusiasm he forgot most of his dignity as a submaster.
"_Wow_!" yelled the coach.