AS WALLY SAW IT
Proud as a king, and happy as a king rarely is, Wally sat on the
players' bench and stared at the throngs pouring in through the
entrances and flooding the seats. On the fence over by the woods,
like sparrows crowded close on a telegraph wire, was strung a line
of twittering and jostling youngsters, let in by a wise manager who
preferred to have them safely quiet inside rather than uproariously
disorderly without. And every one of the shrill flock sooner or later
fastened his eyes on Wally and demanded the reason for their comrade's
elevation to the company of the gods.
Such a question must, of course, be answered. Whether the answer is
correct or not is of minor consequence. Some said Wally was a mascot;
others that Poole was sweet on his sister; while still others were able
to give melodramatic accounts of Wally's rescue of the captain from
the desperate gang of upper middlers who had "pinched" him. While the
argument on these points was going forward, the advance scouts of the
fence brigade discovered signs of the arrival of the nines, and Skinny
Flick, waving his tattered cap, led a high-pitched imitation of the
long Seaton cheer, weirdly shrill and yet true and even and united.
"How can those little boys do it so well?" asked Margaret Sedgwick,
amused at the unexpected prelude.
"Practised it, I suppose," replied Mr. Sedgwick, indifferently.
And Wally not being on hand to set forth the true relations of things,
Miss Margaret accepted her father's explanation, and gave the soprano
cheerers full credit for patriotic forethought. As a matter of fact
their facility had been as unconsciously acquired as the street ragtime
which a dignified adult is shocked to find himself whistling. The
Seaton urchin begins to hear the school cheers as soon as his legs
are strong enough to take him where students gather or heroes battle.
Classes pass before him as the generations of men before the aged
Nestor. There were boys on that fence who could already have repeated
the Seaton battle cries when fellows who were now leaders of elevens
and nines in Yale and Harvard and Princeton and Dartmouth had just set
foot in the Seaton streets. The gamin's term of instruction is long; so
the cheer from the fence had the true ring.
It was likewise well timed. A minute later the four cheer-leaders on
the Seaton side were swinging their arms and swaying their bodies in
a convulsion of energy, as they led in the first great welcome to
their team; while at the heels of the Seaton players came the Hillbury
nine, waking into enthusiasm the whole solid phalanx of blue. And here
unquestionably was the first evil omen for Seaton hopes. Every Hillbury
student produced a megaphone and turned it toward the Seaton side; the
volume of Hillbury's cheer was multiplied by three. What a handicap!
What a depressing evidence of Hillbury superiority!
But something more than noise was necessary to depress Wally; his
optimism was not to be extinguished by megaphones. The Seaton players
went out for their preliminary practice. Lyford batted to the
outfield, Borland to the in-; Rob stood at the plate, caught the
returns, and joined in the cross-diamond throwing. Lyford was directing
the practice, but even Wally could see how the infield followed the
catcher's leading and instinctively looked for his suggestion. Nor was
this remarkable. The players were feeling the strain of the situation.
Sudbury had just missed an easy fly that he ought to have held; Hayes
had made a bad mess of a grounder; Durand had sent a ball to first
that had defied Ames's long reach. Nervousness was in the air, but
Owen stood smiling and steady, taking the balls with an easy grace
that had in it no sign of ostentation, throwing straight and swift,
cheering into confidence by his very presence and attitude. "We've
got an awfully good catcher, anyway," thought Wally, proudly, as he
squirmed on the seat and tried at the same time to watch all the Seaton
fielders, and the Hillbury players tossing the ball to and fro near
their bench, and the two captains talking with the umpire.
Presently Hillbury took the field and Wally now had a harder task, for
there were the Hillbury men to be observed and compared with their
predecessors, while Patterson was warming up with Owen over by the
backstop, and must have sympathetic attention. Rob had borrowed Ames's
mitt to use as a plate, and over this Patterson was pitching, unsteady
at first with the tension of the strange conditions, but soon settling
down under Owen's soothing guidance. When Rob found that his pitcher
had himself sufficiently in hand to be able to place the ball pretty
accurately over one side of the mitt or the other, he called to him to
stop.
"You're all right, Pat!" he declared, dropping his arm on his
companion's shoulder as they walked back to join their mates on the
bench. "It's all there; you'll pitch your best game to-day. Don't hurry
now, and don't worry; and don't forget to back up first whenever you
can get over there."
Patterson nodded; there was nothing for him to say. He was content to
leave the results in Owen's hands.
"We go out!" announced Poole, coming up with a smile on his face. "All
ready, Pat?"
Patterson gave a sign of assent. "Yes, he's ready," said Owen. "Here's
your mitt, Ames. This is one of the days when we can cut it every time."
The Hillbury players came in, the Seatonians scattered to their
positions. The supporters cheered for their school and their captain;
then for the captain of the other team. 'Tis a fine custom of the
Seaton-Hillbury rivalry which the colleges might well imitate. The
Hillbury megaphones bellowed a response. The umpire threw down a new
white ball which Patterson coolly scrubbed in the dirt outside the box,
while Michael, the head of the Hillbury batting list, took his place by
the plate. The game was on!
Owen crouched and signalled with his fingers between his knees.
Patterson answered with an out that threatened to strike Michael on
the shoulder, but swung in over the inside of the plate. The batsman
stepped back and the umpire called a strike. The next one was high and
wide and out of reach; Michael did not bite. One ball! For the third
effort Patterson stepped to the left and threw a swift one that cut the
inside corner of the plate at an angle--or would have cut it, if it
had been allowed to take its course. Michael struck at it and knocked
it into Patterson's hands. Long Ames had the ball before Michael was
halfway down the line.
Hood, the Hillbury shortstop, who had been standing by, swinging two
bats like a professional, now strode up, thumped the ground with his
chosen stick, and looked valiantly at the pitcher. The first ball, a
drop, he struck at and fouled. The second he misjudged and let go by.
"Strike Two!" The third and fourth were tempters which he resisted.
Then came one which he fancied. With sudden impulse he struck hard at
it, but even as he struck, the ball slammed in Owen's trusty mitt.
A strike out! Two men gone! The Seaton cheer-leaders were busy again,
and with contorted faces and fierce arm swings goaded on their company
of howlers. Hillbury answered with a blast of megaphones, as Coy, their
centre fielder, appeared at the plate. The first ball pitched appealed
to him; he struck at it and sent a low bounder toward third. For just
an instant Durand juggled it and then threw straight to Ames, but Coy
was fast and the umpire called him safe.
Kleindienst, the Hillbury captain, came up, eager to make a hit that
would help the runner round the bases. Thanks to Poole's note-book, and
information gathered from many sources, Owen knew what to call for.
The first pitch was a swift breast-high ball off the inner corner of
the plate; Kleindienst smote and smote in vain. "Now Coy will steal,"
thought Rob, and signalled for an out. Coy did steal and Kleindienst
tried to hit at the same time, but all he succeeded in accomplishing
was to catch the ball on the end of his bat and drive it in easy bounds
to Ames, making the third out.
"You've got to get a hit, Mac," said Poole, as McPherson picked up his
bat. "Don't bite at the teasers. Make 'em put 'em over!"
Now McPherson meant to do that very thing, but the first one was so
plausible that even though it wasn't just what he wanted, McPherson
could not resist the temptation to try it. The result was a pop foul
that Kleindienst gathered in off third base.
Poole was second on the list, and Poole waited; one ball! two balls! a
foul! three balls! two strikes! At the next Poole dropped his bat and
started for first, and the umpire did not say him nay.
And now it was Owen's turn to face O'Brien, and he tried to sacrifice,
but the bunt rolled over the line, and his attempt came to naught.
O'Brien was careful now, and gave him high balls that he could not
bunt, and kept them well out of his reach. Two had been called balls
and one a strike, when Rob's chance came. The ball was a trifle too
far in, but he drew back a little as he struck, and drove a liner over
second baseman's head out into the ground between centre and right.
Poole went to third, and Rob was safe at second.
It was Rorbach's turn. He knew what he was expected to do without the
spur implied in the sudden roar of greeting from the benches, followed
by tense, expectant silence. O'Brien sought to work him with seductive
outs, but Rorbach waited. Three balls and one strike brought the
pitcher to reason; he couldn't afford to pass a man with two on bases.
So Rorbach got one where he could hit it, and lifted the ball in a
splendid long arch far out into right field. The cheer-leaders caught
their breath and, forgetful of their duties, silently watched it fly.
Was it a home run? It would have been if some one else than Furness had
guarded the Hillbury right field. Furness started almost as soon as the
ball, and racing backward toward the fence, turned as the ball was just
going over his head and pulled it down. Rorbach was out, but Poole came
home easily on the throw-in, and Owen wisely paused at third.
Long Ames now appeared at the plate, brandishing his bat in the clumsy
fashion which had aroused so much merriment along the benches in that
first game of the season. No one made merry over it to-day. The anxious
Hillburyites thought only of the possibility of another hit, while
the Seatonians' hopes now hung on the derided man's bat. And Ames,
who cared nothing whether they derided or not, fixed his eyes on the
pitcher and waited. One he let go by without offering at it; the second
he fouled; the next proved a second ball, the fourth another strike.
Still he waited, clutching his bat a hand's-breadth from the end, with
his lank figure bent awkwardly forward toward the plate. The fifth
pitch was to his liking; with a short, quick stroke he chopped the ball
in a safe little liner over third baseman's head, and galloped away to
first, while Owen gleefully trotted home. Then Durand went out on an
infield hit, and the first inning was over.
Such luck, of course, could not last, but the exhilaration engendered
by these two runs carried the Seaton players safely through several
innings. The second, with the tail-end of the list at bat on either
side, was quickly over. In the third Poole led off with a hit, reaching
second on an error, but got no farther. In the fourth sprinter Coy got
to first on balls, but was thrown out by two yards when he tried to
steal second; and the Hillbury captain, after making a clean hit, was
forced at second by Webster's unlucky drive to Hayes, which resulted
in a double play. By this time O'Brien had settled down into his best
gait, and his best Poole's company found far too good.
On the other hand, Hillbury seemed to be finding Patterson less
puzzling. The Seaton fielders had work a-plenty. In the sixth Poole
ran far back for a long fly from Michael's bat, cutting off what to the
uproarious rooters on the Hillbury side seemed surely a three-base hit;
and Hood's hard liner, that promised almost as much, was gloriously
taken just inside third by Durand. The third Hillburyite hit over
Ames's head, and reached second only to be left there when his
successor was retired on a foul fly. The Seatonians in their turn went
tamely out in order; not a single one reached first.
A thrill of apprehension passed through the ranks of red and gray
as Webster opened the seventh with a slow grounder to Hayes, which
the Seaton shortstop fumbled. Two runs are not great margin when a
heavy-hitting team opens up on a pitcher, especially if that pitcher
be, like Patterson, comparatively inexperienced. A couple of good
hits, with an error or two and a base on balls, would quickly wipe
out the slight advantage. Only steady playing and the steadiest kind
of pitching could save the game, if the Hillbury sluggers showed
themselves at all equal to their reputation. So thought many a timid
Seaton sympathizer, whose hopes of victory had been excited by the
success of the first inning. Wally was not of these doubters. He knew
full well that a man who reaches first does not necessarily reach
second or third. Webster was at first; the only question was how and
where he was to be stopped.
Now Wally did not see Owen signal to Ames, nor recognize the object of
the swift, wide ball which Patterson next threw; but he did see Owen's
arm come back like a spring and snap instantly forward; he likewise
saw Ames gather in the ball and swing with it suddenly on Webster, who
was leaping back to first; and he understood well the gesture by which
the umpire called Webster in. The Seaton crowd shouted with unexpected
joy, but Wally's surprise was only partial; he had expected to see the
runner thrown out at second.
Then Ribot struck under one of Patterson's jumps and sent the ball far
up in the air. Rob snatched off his mask and watched the returning
sphere, relieved to see it descending on McPherson's side of second.
Ribot was out, and O'Brien brought the inning to a close by giving
Durand a chance at another pop fly.
The Seaton hitters had no better luck. Hayes got his base on balls, but
Patterson forced him at second, and was himself put out on the play,
while McPherson flied out. Here was little encouragement for those who
looked for more Seaton runs!
Furness started the eighth with a drive past second, which by bounding
over Sudbury's shoulder enabled the runner to make two bases. Rounds,
the last man of the Hillbury list, was counted an easy victim, but
instead of striking out as he was expected to do, he hit the ball over
Durand's head. Poole got it back in season to cut off any attempt at
crossing the plate, but the awful fact remained that with only two runs
needed to tie the score, Hillbury had men on first and third, with
no one out and the heavy hitters coming on. A double now would bring
in two men. Even Wally acknowledged to himself that he did not see
how they were going to get out of that hole, while the dubious on the
Seaton benches were sadly thinking that the game was lost. The fatal
eighth was here!
A ball! two balls! Then Michael's bat cracked and the ball shot toward
Hayes, struck well, and bounded into his hands. He gave but a glance
at third--where Furness was lingering, hoping to draw a hasty throw to
the plate, and so get Michael safely to first--then threw to McPherson,
who had covered second. Rounds was thus forced out. Meantime Furness
had made a late start for home, trusting to McPherson's slowness and
probable confusion. But McPherson, who was neither slow nor confused,
sent the ball directly to the plate, where Owen received it safely.
Furness, while still ten feet away, stopped and wheeled about; but Owen
ran him down, then turned sharply, steadied himself, and drove the
ball with all his strength to McPherson. Michael had passed first on
the plays and was sliding into second; the ball in McPherson's hands
touched him before he reached the base.
In a fraction of a minute it was all over. The umpire was signalling to
Michael that he was out; Poole and Rorbach had started in from their
positions; Owen was unbuckling his protector. Still Patterson stood and
stared, unable to believe that his rescue was complete. And then, like
the explosion set off by an electric spark, the audience waked to the
situation. The whole Seaton company rose _en masse_, waving arms and
hats and banners, and sent forth a formless, exultant roar; while the
recreant cheer-leaders turned their backs on their chorus and danced
frantic jigs before the benches.
So ended the first half of the eighth, with the score two to nothing.
The Seatonians were soon disposed of. Poole, over-eager, struck out.
Owen hit to O'Brien and was thrown out at first. Rorbach made a pretty
single into centre field, but came to grief when he tried to stretch it
into a two-bagger. Hillbury came in for the last trial!
"Only three outs!" thought Wally, complacently. "Only three outs now!"
ran the whisper along the Seaton benches, but expressed in timid
hope rather than in confidence. Runs might precede those outs; these
Hillbury men could not forever be checked on the bases. The courage
rose when Hood sent Durand an easy chance, and was out at first. Then
Coy bunted safely, and took second when Patterson threw wide to Ames.
Kleindienst hit to Patterson, and was put out at first, while Coy was
held on second. Two out, but a man on second! The spectators drew
labored breaths; the cheer-leaders on either side, fearing to add to
the strain upon their champions, hung silent on the scene before them.
Webster, after two balls and two strikes, caught one on the end of
his bat and sent it just out of Hayes's reach. On this scratch hit
Coy was advanced to third. Again men on first and third, this time
with two out! Ribot was at bat, nerved and resolute; and Rob felt a
dread--almost a conviction--that a ball within his reach would be hit
safely. On the other hand, in the desperate situation in which Hillbury
stood, Webster was bound to steal, so as to make two runs possible in
case of a hit. Patterson waited for his catcher's signal. The game
hinged on Owen's decision. An error in judgment, a fault in execution,
and the peril which had been warded off for nine long innings would be
upon them. A tie at this stage, Rob knew, would mean defeat.
He called for a swift, wide ball. Webster feinted a start, hoping to
draw a useless throw to second that would let Coy in. Rob hesitated,
took a step forward, and pretended to throw; then wheeled and sent the
ball to Durand. Coy was nailed as he scrambled back to the base--and
the game was won.
The score:--
Seaton
ab r bh po a e
McPherson, 2 b 4 0 1 4 3 0
Poole, lf 3 1 2 2 0 0
Owen, c 4 1 1 4 4 0
Rorbach, rf 4 0 1 1 0 0
Ames, 1 b 3 0 1 10 0 0
Durand, 3 b 3 0 1 4 1 1
Sudbury, cf 3 0 0 1 0 0
Hayes, ss 2 0 0 1 3 1
Patterson, p 3 0 0 0 3 1
-- -- -- -- -- --
Totals 29 2 7 27 14 3
Hillbury
ab r bh po a e
Michael, lf 4 0 0 1 0 0
Hood, ss 4 0 0 2 3 0
Coy, cf 3 0 2 1 1 0
Kleindienst, 3 b 4 0 0 1 2 1
Webster, 1 b 4 0 3 11 0 0
Ribot, c 3 0 0 4 0 0
O'Brien, p 3 0 0 1 3 0
Furness, rf 3 0 1 1 0 0
Rounds, 2 b 3 0 1 2 2 1
-- -- -- -- -- --
Totals 31 0 7 24 11 2
Seaton 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 --2
Hillbury 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0--0