NEWPORT WINS.
It had been decided that the M. C. I.’s should take the field, so they
remained in their positions, and the game began with a sharp two-bagger
from Newport’s first batter. To the astonishment of everybody, although
he had been behind the plate when the ball was hit, Frank was down to
second base ahead of the runner, standing in just the proper position to
see the play perfectly, and he pronounced the man safe on a close play,
a decision that might have been disputed had he remained near the plate.
In fact, the second baseman opened his mouth to dispute the ruling, but
closed up immediately on seeing that Frank was not more than ten feet
away.
Then followed an exhibition of umpiring such as no one present had ever
witnessed before. Frank was all over the diamond, and he always seemed
on exactly the best spot to see any play to advantage. How he covered so
much ground was a mystery, but he did it without seeming to exert
himself remarkably, and he kept the game hustling from the very start.
Newport scored twice in their half of the first inning, and were
prevented from making a third tally by a beautiful throw from deep left
to the plate.
Then Newport went into the field. They filled the box with Burton, of
Corinna, a Colby man, and a puzzling “south-paw” pitcher. Burton’s
greatest fault was his slow delivery, but, being in good form, he more
than made up for it by his tricks in “working the batter.”
Newport had not beaten the Institute team in two years, and the M. C.
I.’s fancied they had a snap. They had been against Burton before, and
hit him pretty hard, and they believed they could do it again. But
Burton, who was a determined chap, with a bulldog disposition to never
give up, was there to redeem himself that day. He proceeded to strike
out the first two men with great ease, and then he caused the third man
to pop up a light fly that he gathered himself without getting out of
his tracks.
The Institute boys laughed at this.
“We’ll fall on him and hammer him out of the box the next inning,” they
said.
But they did not, for neither side scored in the following inning. There
were, however, three close plays, one at second, one at third, and one
at the home plate. Frank Merriwell was on hand to witness every play
from the most advantageous point and his decisions could not be disputed
with reason.
Both players and spectators began to see that the umpiring was making it
a remarkably lively and interesting game at the very start off.
In the fourth inning the M. C. I. team tied the score, and in the fifth
it took a lead of three.
Newport had not been able to score thus far after the first, and the
Institute lads declared it was “all over but the shouting.” That did not
disturb Burton, who continued to work in the same cool, deliberate
manner.
In the seventh inning Newport got a tally, but M. C. I. made two more,
giving them a lead of four.
In the eighth Newport cut it down by two in their half, and then Burton
“pitched for his life.” In vain the Institute lads tried to get a safe
hit off him. One man fanned and the others were “killed at first.” As
both of these decisions were close, a M. C. I. player started a vigorous
kick on the last one, but Frank, who had made every ruling promptly and
firmly, quickly closed the kicker up.
Then came the “fatal ninth.” Newport needed two to tie and three to win.
If they made three and white-washed their opponents the game was theirs.
They started in by getting two men out in a hurry, and the boys from
Pittsfield were laughing over the “snap.” Then a weak hit landed a
runner on first. The next man was not a heavy hitter, and so, instead of
trying to stop the runner, the pitcher attempted to end it by striking
the batter out. That gave the man on first a chance to steal second
without danger, and he did so. Then the batter rapped out a light one
that was fumbled, and crossed first ahead of the ball.
Burton came to the plate. He had been hitting poorly, but now there was
a look of grim determination on his dark face.
“Get old ‘south-paw,’ Winnie,” called one of the players to the pitcher.
The twirler grinned and nodded. He was confident, for he had been
fooling Burton all day on a slow drop. To start off, he sent a straight
whistler over the plate so near to the batter that Burton was forced to
jump back. Then the pitcher fancied he had his man unnerved. The
spectators were shouting and cheering, trying to rattle both pitcher and
batter.
The second ball was a slow drop. Burton waited for it, got under it, hit
it, lifted it into the air with awful force. Away it flew over the
ground and down among the cottages, and, when last seen, it was bounding
merrily among the trees, making for the lake, which showed blue in the
distance.
Round the bases sped the runners, and three scores came in before the
ball was overtaken and returned. It was a “homer” for Burton, and he had
placed Newport one score in the lead.
The crowd cheered itself hoarse, and the boys from Pittsfield looked
disgusted.
The next batter sent up an easy one for the shortstop, and Newport was
out.
The M. C. I.’s came in growling. They were determined to win the game by
hard batting in the ninth.
“Get onto Burton, fellows,” said the captain. “We must do it right here.
We can if we try.”
They did try, but Burton was doing great work just about that time. He
had won the game by his hit, and now he did not propose to lose it by
his work in the box.
The bases filled up, however, with only one man out. A good hit meant
two runs.
Then came two decisions on a rattling double play, and Merriwell got
both of them right by swift work. Both were declared out, and the game
was over—Newport had won!
Some of the Institute men started to growl, but the captain cut them off
sharply.
“It was the best umpiring I ever saw!” he exclaimed, enthusiastically.
“Mr. Merriwell, we owe you our thanks. You did a beautiful job, and I
believe you made this game one of the best ever played on this ground.
There were any amount of close decisions, and I think you had all of
them right. Newport beat us to-day, but I am not raising a growl.”
He shook hands with Frank, and the Newport captain came up and did the
same. The pitchers of both teams stated that never before had they been
so well satisfied concerning the rules on balls and strikes.
The Newport captain proposed three cheers for the M. C. I.’s, which were
given. Then he proposed three more for the umpire, and there was an
almost universal response.
“Well,” said Hodge, coming up to Frank, “that was a better game than I
expected to see here, but I know your work had something to do with it.
Poor umpiring would have set half these fellows kicking, and ruined the
game.”
“It’s new work for me,” laughed Frank; “and I am not particularly stuck
on it. Now, I’m hungry enough to eat anything. I want some of those
‘army beans.’”
“Yaw,” grunted Hans, waddling up, “I vos so hongry dot you can veel id
at der bit uf my stomachs. Id vos awful ven you felt all gone ad der bit
uf my stomachs.”
“Where are Browning and Diamond?” asked Frank.
“Don’t know,” answered Bart. “Think they must be taking in the dance. I
reckon we’ll find them there.”
“Then we’ll go down to the hall.”
On their way, however, Browning was seen coming toward them hurriedly,
much to the astonishment of all.
“He’s really hurrying!” exclaimed Frank. “What does it mean?”
“Something is up,” declared Hodge.
“Something has gone wrong! Diamond isn’t with him.”
Bruce came up, breathing heavily.
“Come on, fellows!” he exclaimed. “We are needed.”
“Where?” asked Frank.
“Up the shore.”
“What’s the matter? Diamond in trouble?”
“Not yet, but he is in the toughest sort of a crowd, and I knew I would
have no influence to get him out of it. That’s why I came for you,
Merriwell. He will do as you say.”
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