We all scrambled from ourcots and stood shivering in the cold dawn air, all save the boy in thenext cot who had not stirred. Seeing this the Master s...rode up and hitthe body with his cane, but there was no movement. He pulled back theblanket and snorted with disgust. Tears silently course down my cheeksbut I dared not make a sound."Breakfast," he growled, "last one down gets nothing." There was wildscramble for the door.After our meagre breakfast of gruel and stale bread, washed down. And again. And still again.It was great. She was spraying base hits all over the place."You can hit, too?" I asked her in between pitches."Damn right I can hit. I have no power, but I can put the ball in play and get on base."She just kept hitting, and hitting, a little grin on her face with every whack. "OK, one more, Woodard," the coach yelled up. And Sinclair wound up-and hit her right in the helmet. Smack in the side of her noggin."GODDAMMIT!" I yelled. The coach ran out screaming at him.. More

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