Dark of the moon - Dr. Gideon Fell 22 by John Dickson Carr Page A

ball.
    "What's the matter, Stonewall? Won't try for anything, eh? Bat stuck to your shoulder, or what?"
    "Put it here, son! Just put it here!"
    This time indulging in an embryonic wind-up, Rip fired with every ounce of weight—a pitch so debatable, a little high and inside but perhaps below the shoulder, that Alan himself would hardly have known what to call it
    "Ball—three!"
    Rip straightened up on receiving the throw, his face not pleasant.
    "How's your eyesight, umpire? Wouldn't it be better to get some pencils and a tin cup?"
    "Want me to slap a fine on you?" howled the irate umpire, doing a little dance behind Alan. "Now shut your God-damn mouth and play ball!"
    "I'll do that, Bob. We'll get you a seeing-eye dog when this is over. Meanwhile, though . . ."
    By the look on the pitcher's face Alan guessed what it would be: Rip's fast one again, dead in the groove. The ball thudded into the glove exactly where he was holding his hands.
    "Strike—two!"
    Rip's spirits bubbled up.
    "See that, Madge? I thought I could get him with my fast one again, and I was right. He won't swing at anything; he's too afraid of missing! Now what shall we feed him for the third strike? Something different, maybe?" Rip settled the weight on his left foot. "Always keep 'em guessing, that's the thing. Always . . ."
    "Camilla," Madge burst out, "I don't like this!"
    "It's all right, dear. There's nothing wrong."
    "There is something wrong! I know! I can—"
    Crack!
    Yancey had stepped into the fast one and swung.
    "Jesus H. Christ!" whispered the umpire.
    In actual play it would have been a line drive over second base, too high to be speared or knocked down. The ball, a white streak like unwinding yarn, whistled straight between the two inner columns of the portico just as Henry Maynard, a book in his left hand, pushed open the screen door and emerged in its path.
    It could not have hit him—it was far too high—but he would scarcely have known that. He dropped flat on his face, not at all a ludicrous spectacle to those who watched. The ball whacked against brick a foot or two above the front door, and rebounded out into the drive, where Rip Hillboro danced to field it. Henry Maynard picked himself up, briefly brushed at his knees, gave them all one look from a distance, and with much dignity went back into the house.
    Rip hastened to join the others, pushing the ball into his hip pocket.
    "That's the end of the exercise, I think. If we don't want thunders from Sinai, we'd better knock it off here and now. You know, Stonewall, maybe it's a good thing you and I are both leaving tomorrow."
    "Yes, son, I guess it is too."
    "Look, Stonewall, here's your dough: a ten and two fives. You made a fool of me, all right; I don't like it one bit. But you smacked that last one fair and square; you made a fool of me with all my talk, and I admit it! Here's the dough."
    "Well . . . now!" said Yancey Beale. "I didn't much want your money, son. Up to this minute I meant to tell you just where you could shove it. Still! If you're bein' a good sport, that's different. Reckon I said thing s I oughtn't to have said, and maybe that clout was mostly fluke. Shake hands?"
    "Sure; why not? We can be civilized again, can't we?"
    Rip and Yancey, together with Dr. Fell, Bob Crandall, and Madge too, moved towards the house. Alan removed mask and glove and approached Camilla, who stood motionless with his coat over her arm.
    "Alan—!"
    "Yes?"
    Camilla's face had grown rather flushed, and there was an odd look about her eyes. For an instant she seemed quite literally to sway towards him. Then the impression was gone, a burst bubble or an illusion.
    "What a lot of children!" she said. "You know, Alan, it's really too bad about the hit that. . . that . . ."
    "That almost beaned Madge's old man?"
    "Yes. When Yancey hit that ball, I was looking at Dr. Fell's face and at Bob Crandall's too."
    "What about it?"
    "They were both hoping he would break a window." Camilla made a