Part 17 (2/2)
”Well, I'm glad you like it,” said Mrs. Williams, ”because now I'll never spoil another fish by frying it.”
1 See The White Elephant Mystery.
Chapter Three.
Tommy Makes Up a New Word
DJUNA was pedaling Tommy's bicycle and Tommy was riding on the handlebars when they reached the business section of town on the way to the beach. Mrs. Williams had made them rest for a half hour after luncheon so that there wouldn't be any danger that they would get cramps when they went swimming. ”Maybe it's an old-fas.h.i.+oned idea,” she told them, ”but it's better to be safe than sorry.”
”Phew!” Djuna puffed as they reached the Hamilton Block, ”I'm bushed. Do you want to pedal for a while?”
”Sure,” Tommy said, and Djuna came to a halt beside the curb across from the Dolphin Beach Bank. ”But let's go over and see Bobby Herrick first.”
”Who's he?” Djuna wanted to know.
”A kid I go to school with,” said Tommy. ”He's my best friend down here. He's making some extra money during vacation as a pin-boy over at the bowling alleys.”
”Okay with me,” Djuna said. ”Can we go in to see him? I've never been inside a bowling alley.”
”Oh, sure,” Tommy said. They parked Tommy's bicycle at the curb and darted across the street while the light on the corner was red.
Djuna was dazzled by the streamlined chromium trim and the fluorescent lighting as Tommy led him into the bowling alleys. Only two of the eight alleys were being used at the moment and on one of them the bowlers were using duckpins, so the noise was not too great.
”Hi, Bobby,” Tommy called to a st.u.r.dy, good-looking boy of about his own age who was sitting where the pin-boys sat when they weren't working.
”Hi,” Bobby answered as he rose and came toward them with a fetching smile on his face.
”This is my friend, Djuna, from Edenboro,” Tommy said, and then politely added, ”Robert Herrick.”
Both Djuna and Robert mumbled something as they shook hands and then Djuna said, as he watched one of the bowling b.a.l.l.s strike the pins and send them cras.h.i.+ng into the pit, ”I should think those pins would knock your head off when they come flying back there.” Bobby laughed.
”Oh, there's a padded thing where they land and we hop up on a shelf above it,” Bobby said. ”n.o.body ever gets. .h.i.t. Do you know how to bowl?”
”No,” Djuna admitted. ”This is the first time I've ever been in a bowling alley. I've looked in at the windows but I've never been inside one. Is it hard to learn?”
”It takes practice, just like anything else,” Bobby said seriously. ”You have to learn how to swing the ball right and remember to follow through, so you will have control and accuracy-they're the most important.”
”Does everyone bowl alike?” Djuna asked.
”Oh, no,” said Robert. ”Some people throw a straight ball but most good bowlers throw a hook ball because it's the easiest to throw. A straight ball carries away the pins in front of it and whatever pins happen to be knocked over; but a hook ball hits the pins at a better angle and its spin knocks over more of them.”
”I guess it does take a lot of practice,” Djuna said in an awed voice.
”Sometimes Dr. Hammer-he's a dentist upstairs-comes down and practices for an hour at a time to smooth out his swing. He has me just set up the Five pin and throws at that. He throws a hook shot, and oh boy, can he hook them in there between the One and Three pins!”
”Which pins are they?” Tommy asked.
”One is the first pin and Three is the next one on the right,” Bobby explained. ”If you hook the ball in between them it is aimed right at the Five pin-that's the center pin in the third row. If your ball goes in the One-Three pocket you usually knock over all the pins and get a strike.”
”You certainly know a lot about it,” Djuna said with proper respect. ”How much does a strike count?”
”Ten points, plus all the pins you get on your next two b.a.l.l.s in the next frame,” Bobby said. ”If you don't get all the pins with your first ball but get the rest of them with your second ball you get what they call a spare. For a spare you get ten, too, plus all the pins you get with your first ball in the next frame. Dr. Hammer comes in and practices for spares, too. He has me set up the Seven pin and throws at it for a while and then switches and has me set up the Ten pin and throws at that. They're the corner pins in the last row and the ones that you usually need to get on your second ball for a spare.”
”Dr. Hammer must be a bowling nut,” Tommy said.
”He is, kind of,” Bobby said. ”He told me he took an office in this building so he could be right close to the bowling alleys. He has his own special ball he had made.”
”Is it here now?” Djuna asked with interest. ”Could we see it?”
”Sure,” Bobby said. ”It's over here on the rack. But be sure you don't drop it.”
He led them over to a rack on which there were several canvas bags holding private bowling b.a.l.l.s. He took down the one that had Dr. Hammer's name on a tag attached to it and opened the zipper. First he took out a pair of elkskin bowling shoes and said, ”He has his own special shoes, too.” Then he inserted his fingers in the holes of the composition ball inside and pulled it out of its carrying bag. The eyes of all three of the boys were s.h.i.+ning with admiration as they inspected the mottled jade-green beauty of the ball.
”How much does it weigh?” Tommy asked.
”Sixteen pounds,” Bobby said.
”And it's made special, just to fit him?” Djuna asked.
”Sure,” Bobby told him. ”Its drilling-the finger-holes- are curved and matched exactly to his grip. And see,” he added, indicating a number on the ball, ”it has a registered number for identification.”
”Well, I'll be darned,” Djuna said. ”How do they measure it so it just fits his grip?”
”In that grip-fitter over there,” Bobby said, pointing. ”C'm'ere, I'll show you.” They moved over before a composition grip-fitter ball that stood on a special rack. ”You put your thumb in this place here,” Bobby explained as he handed Dr. Hammer's ball to Djuna, ”and then spread your fingers until you find the right holes for your two middle fingers. Then they measure with those round gadgets down to one thirty-secondth of an inch. It has to be right when they're through with it.”
”I'd hate to drop this on my toe,” Djuna said, as he hefted Dr. Hammer's heavy ball.
”I guess I better put it back,” Bobby said. ”Dr. Hammer might come in.” He took the ball back and put it in its canvas bag with Dr. Hammer's elkskin bowling shoes, and put the canvas bag back on the rack.
”Hey, what about coming over to the beach with us for a swim?” Tommy asked Bobby.
”I can't, this afternoon.” Bobby grinned. ”But maybe I can tomorrow.”
”Okay,” Tommy said. They flipped their hands at one another and Tommy and Djuna departed.
”Jiminy crimps,” Djuna said. ”Bobby certainly knows a lot about bowling.”
”Yeah,” said Tommy. ”He knows a lot-period. He's the best student in my grade.”
There were two men dressed in work clothes standing in front of the directory on the wall as the two boys came out of the bowling alleys. Between them stood an upright hand truck that contained a metal cylindrical tank. They were staring up at the building directory and as Djuna and Tommy came opposite them one of the men turned and said, ”Hey, bud, do you know is there a Dr. Hammer in this building?”
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