A MISFIT BATTERY
The moment his foot touched the threshold Simmons began to exclaim: "It
was perfectly great! I'm awfully glad I went! He's got a peach of a
canoe, and what he doesn't know about animals and reptiles and birds--"
He stopped suddenly as he caught sight of the massive form of the
venerated Laughlin looming behind the door. "Oh, excuse me, I didn't
know any one was here."
"No one but me," said the visitor, "and though I'm big, I'm not
dangerous. Who's got the peach of a canoe?"
"Payner," answered Simmons, throwing a questioning look at Owen.
"That's the fellow that's been working the plagues on the Pecks, isn't
it?"
"Yes," replied Simmons, eagerly. "How did you know about it?"
"Oh, everybody knows something about it," returned Laughlin, with a
grin. "I suppose he was after material. What number has he reached now?"
"I think he's getting ready for Number Six," said Simmons, gravely.
"He didn't say what it was to be, but he told me all sorts of things
he might do. If he does everything he talks about he'll have to put
them three at a time to keep within ten. He showed me where he got the
newts he put in the clothes-bag, and where he used to catch turtles and
water-snakes, and the old stumps where he dug out salamanders. He says
that below the falls, on Salt River, you can catch all sorts of things
when the tide's out--dip up young eels by the pailful. They'd do to put
in the water pitchers."
"I shouldn't care for them in mine," observed Laughlin.
"When it gets warmer there are going to be more things," Simmons
continued, growing more confidential and serious as he proceeded. "All
sorts of bugs, for example, and hornets' nests that you can take off
in the night and throw in through the windows. It's easy to get half
a pint of ants from any big ant hill if you only know how, and the
brown-tail moth caterpillars they talk so much about--the hairs fly and
are poisonous, you know--it wouldn't be at all hard to find a nest with
the caterpillars just in the right stage outside the town somewhere.
Then he took me into his room and showed me an enormous spider he had
in a bottle--he got it from home--and asked me how I thought the Pecks
would like it to find such a thing in their pajamas some night. Isn't
it awful!"
Simmons stopped for breath, and looked horror-struck from face to face.
"What's it all for, anyway?" asked Laughlin.
"Why, the Pecks ripped up his room, and spoiled some of his specimens,"
explained Rob. "He wants them to apologize and agree to let him alone.
They won't do it."
"Oh, I remember now," Laughlin said. "One of them came to me about
a month ago, and asked me what to do. I gave him a raking down for
playing such fool tricks, and told him to go and apologize and try to
patch it up with Payner. I don't know which it was. I never could tell
'em apart."
"It was Duncan," said Owen. "I gave him the same advice. He's willing
to do the right thing, but the other one keeps him back."
"Well, let them suffer then, that's all I've got to say," remarked
Laughlin. "I've no sympathy to waste on fools or fellows who won't own
up when they're in the wrong."
The senior departed, leaving Owen comforted and reassured. He could
afford to wait, he told himself after his caller had gone. Let them
give Patterson to Borland if they wished. Borland couldn't manage him,
Rob was convinced, and when the new combination failed, Patterson would
come back to him, and the pair could start again and work up together.
Then it would be clear which was the better catcher, and which battery
was the more useful to the school. Yes, Laughlin was right; it was
better to work one's way up than to claim a high place at the outset
and afterward have to change to the lowest, like the man in the parable
who was bidden to a feast. But it was hard on Pat!
In the meantime Simmons had disappeared. He came in again soon, and
rather shamefacedly confessed that he had been laboring with the Pecks.
"What luck?" asked Rob; "did they bluff you?"
"That's just what they did. Duncan laughed at me and Donald said he
wasn't afraid of anything Payner could produce, either fresh or canned.
I told them I merely wanted to warn them of what was before them, and
Donald said the chief thing before them was to wipe up the ground with
Payner. Then I said they'd better look out, for Payner had a gun, and
Donald said he'd need it. I didn't seem to be getting on, so I cleared
out."
Owen laughed. "You may as well let them alone. They're looking for
trouble, and if they find it it's their own fault."
That evening Duncan stopped Simmons on the way out to Front Street
and thanked him for coming to warn them. "I didn't say anything while
you were there," he added, "because I knew Don and I'd have a big row
about it, and I thought our rows ought to be private. And we did have
it after you went, red hot. I'll tell you on the fair, I'm dead sick
of the whole thing; it's got on to my nerves and spoils all my fun.
We have to keep the door locked all the time, we don't dare open the
windows, some one has to be here when the chambermaid comes in, and
we're always scared that something's going to happen,--that there'll be
some crawly thing in the bed, or under it, or hidden in our pajamas,
or tucked into our shoes, or coming down the chimney. I never open
a bureau drawer without standing back as far as I can, for fear of
something jumping in my face. It's terrible. The sword of Damocles was
nothing to it. If Payner'd be satisfied with my apology, I'd go in a
minute!"
"He wouldn't be," answered Simmons, with a sad shake of his head.
The burden of anxiety for peace in the dormitory lay heavy on poor
Simmons's shoulders!
Does some one ask why the teachers are not called in to adjudicate such
differences, or how a feud like this could go on undetected by Dr. Mann
on the floor below, and Mrs. Gray, the matron, making her daily rounds
among the rooms? To such be it explained that except in story books
and school circulars, or where small children are concerned, teachers
and pupils live in two distinct worlds, between which there is lawful
communication only by regular channels. No self-respecting boy above
the primary age seeks faculty help against his fellows. He may consult
a trusted teacher about his own affairs, his studies, his health,
his morals, his religion; about his relations with other boys he may
sometimes ask advice, but assistance never. In the school life he must
fight fair, and the first rule of fair fighting is: No intervention, no
tale-bearing, keep it among ourselves!
Rob's thoughts did not linger on the affairs of the Pecks. The first
real game was coming on Wednesday with the N----University nine. Rob's
whole attention in the two practice days before was concentrated on
learning about the play of his new position from Poole and Lyford--in
fact from any one who could give him information. He knew, of course,
that in theory a fielder while running for a batted ball is supposed to
keep in mind the positions of the base runners and anticipate their
movements so that when the ball is at last in his hands he need waste
no time in sending it to the right place. In putting this obvious
theory into practice, though suffering from lack of experience, Rob had
the advantage of his catcher's training in watching bases. In throwing
in from the field, however, this catcher's training was distinctly
a handicap, for the short-line throws across the diamond are very
different from the long returns from the outfield. Rob could catch
flies as well as any one, but he despaired of ever feeling at home in
right field.
Patterson took the change of catchers still more to heart. When
Poole informed him of the new arrangement, he stood aghast, too much
astonished to protest. But he immediately made full speed for Rob's
room, and there he vowed that he should not, could not, would not
pitch to Borland or any one else but Owen; they might drop him if they
chose. Here Rob's newly acquired courage served him in good stead. He
explained that Poole was promoting Patterson to a better catcher, that
he had no reason to think that Borland would not do for him quite as
much as Owen could, and that in any case they must both obey orders
and work for the success of the nine. Patterson listened, was half
convinced, and yielded.
So it happened that when the game with N----University opened, there
were two players on the Seaton nine, the pitcher and the right-fielder,
who felt ill at ease in their positions. The Seatonians were in the
field. Big Ames was at first, in place of Weaver. Patterson, seeking
to make up for lack of confidence by enforced deliberateness, slowly
raised his arm and shot in the first ball. The batsman let it go
and the umpire called a strike. Then came a ball and a strike in
succession; and then, following Borland's signal, Patterson threw
a drop, the batsman hit the ball on the upper side, sending a slow
grounder toward third. Durand ran up to meet it and flung it hastily
and wide to first, where Ames, stretching to his full awkward length,
held it and saved an error. The next man went out on strikes, the third
on an easy fly to Owen. The Seatonians came in to bat, and went out as
easily as their predecessors.
Then in the second inning came trouble. The first man up sent a fly to
Poole, and of course was out. The second was given a straight, swift
ball which was called a strike; Borland signalled to repeat, but the
batsman was ready this time and drove the ball out into centre field
so far that he had no difficulty in taking second. The next man bunted
and beat Borland's throw to first. Worried by this, Patterson sent
the third man to first, on balls, and the bases were full. The batter
following fouled out to Durand, and the spectators felt better.
Two men out and the bases full! The new batsman came up, recognizing
his opportunity clearly. The first ball looked poor, and he let it
pass--a strike! The second he struck at but did not hit. Patterson
held the ball and watched his catcher's signal--_Straight over_. It
was risky, he saw plainly, and contrary to the principles laid down
by Owen; but Borland was supposed to know, and it would really be a
feather in his cap to strike out the third man with the bases full.
And he put it straight over.
Crack! sounded the bat. With a start Patterson wheeled about and
watched the ball soar over Sudbury's head and bound far away in the
tennis nets. The batsman raced around the bases, touching the plate
just as the ball reached Patterson once more. Four men had scored on
the hit!
The next man went easily out, but Patterson was not to be comforted. He
blamed himself; but of this he was sure, if Owen had been behind the
plate the thing would never have happened.
"Never take chances with the bases full," Owen had always preached, and
Patterson, as he sat scowling on the bench, thought of his four spare
balls and groaned in bitterness of spirit. Durand got a hit, Owen went
to first on balls, and Ames brought one of them in, but Patterson was
not encouraged. In the next inning he let his opponents make three hits
that yielded two runs, and at the beginning of the fourth O'Connell
appeared in his place in the pitcher's box.
How it happened that Seaton won that game in spite of the handicap of
five runs at the fourth inning was explained in various ways. Some
said O'Connell's pitching had held the enemy down; others that luck and
good fielding by Seaton and bad errors on the part of the visitors were
the chief causes. All agreed that the nine had shown an encouraging
ability to hit the ball and play an uphill game.
Such consolation as Owen was able to give during their intermittent
presence together on the bench, Patterson received with stolidity and
monosyllables. He was meditating a radical move. After the game was
over he sought out Poole.
"Borland told me to pitch that ball," he said abruptly to the captain.
"I could have struck that man out."
"I'm sorry you didn't, then," replied the captain, good-naturedly. "I
don't count it against you. You'll have better luck next time. Besides,
when you've had more practice with Borland you'll understand each other
better."
"I'm not going to have any more practice with Borland," replied
Patterson, quietly. "If you ever want me to pitch again, you must give
me Owen to catch me. I'll pitch to no one else."