A REBELLIOUS CONSCIENCE.
The game between Oakdale and Wyndham was in progress, and, wretchedly
miserable, Phil Springer sat watching from the bleachers. Never before
in all his life had he felt so much like a contemptible criminal, a
dastardly traitor to his team, against which, through the agency of
Herbert Rackliff, he had wagered money. It was not, however, the fact
that he had made such a wager that troubled him most, although at this
moment, deep down in his heart, he was sincerely ashamed of that.
The principal cause of his misery, the reason why he kept telling
himself over and over that he was a cowardly sneak, was his knowledge
that the playing signals of the visitors had been betrayed to the home
team, and that, taking advantage of the knowledge thus obtained,
Wyndham was prepared to block Oakdale's every play, and was doing this
in a manner which appeared to the average spectator like almost uncanny
foresight and cleverness at the game.
In the very first inning, with only one out and a runner on third, the
Oakdale batter, taking his instructions from Captain Eliot, had walked
out to the plate with the bat held in his right hand, handle downward,
which was the signal for the squeeze play. But Wyndham had known what
was coming quite as well as Oakdale, and Newbert, pitching the ball
beyond the batsman's reach, gave the catcher every chance to get the
runner as he came lunging hopelessly toward the pan.
The second inning, also, had opened promisingly for Oakdale, but the
enemy's knowledge of the meaning of those signals had made it a simple
matter to bring that auspicious opening to a fruitless and discouraging
close.
Meanwhile Wyndham got a run in the first, and in the third she pushed
two more happy fellows over the rubber, aided by errors; for Grant was
pitching in excellent form, and not a tally of the three was really
earned.
The sight of Roy Hooker, wearing Springer's own suit and sitting on the
bench as a spare pitcher, did not serve in any way to make Phil more
comfortable. He knew that by every bond of loyalty and decency he
should be there himself when he was not working on the slab. Like some
other fellows, in the past he had occasionally laughed and joked about
Roy's aspirations to become a pitcher; but now, at last having gotten
his eyes open to some of his faults, and having succeeded in
restraining his jealousy of others who were in some respects his
superiors, Hooker was pursuing a course that had already led him to be
accepted in place of the deserter.
Phil held himself aloof from the crowd of sympathizers with the team
who had come over from Oakdale to root for the crimson; he did not even
wear the school colors. When he saw them waving their bright banners
and heard them cheering he thought, with a heavy heart and no feeling
of satisfaction, that they little knew how utterly useless their
enthusiasm was. The game was fixed; the cards were stacked, and there
was no chance for Oakdale to win.
He bit his lip as he saw Grant working steadily and coolly on the slab,
doing splendidly, little dreaming that, as the situation stood, he
might "wallop his wing off" with scarcely a ghost of a prospect that
Oakdale could overcome the lead the locals had already obtained.
"I'm glad--as far as _he_ is concerned," Springer whispered to himself;
"but I'm sus-sorry for the rest of the fellows. It's a rotten piece of
business, and Rackliff ought to be ashamed of himself."
Where was Rackliff? He knew Herbert had come to Wyndham after changing
his clothes for dry ones, following his rescue from the river by Grant,
but Phil had not put eyes on the fellow since his arrival on the scene
of the game. It seemed very strange that Rackliff should not be
somewhere on hand to watch the progress of the contest.
"One thing is sure," was the promise the unhappy youth made himself,
"I'll tell him just what I think of him when I get a good chance, and I
won't mum-mince my words. Oh, I wish I'd never let him have that money
to bet on Wyndham! If I hadn't done that----"
He stopped short, thinking that, even though he had not wagered his
money, his hatred for Rod Grant and his desire to see the fellow pitch
a losing game would be sufficient to keep him silent concerning the
betrayal of the signals. He sought to convince himself that, as he was
not concerned in that wretched piece of work, he was in no way
responsible. His rebellious conscience, however, kept prodding him
with the knowledge that he was "an accessory to the crime."
Again and again he longed to rise and shout a warning to Eliot--yearned
to tell him loudly, that all might hear, that Wyndham knew Oakdale's
signals. If he were to do such a thing as that--do it dramatically
before that great crowd--would it not serve to restore him to sudden
popularity with the fellows who now held him in contempt because of the
petty, peevish, jealous course he had pursued?
"I wish they'd ha-hammer Grant out," he muttered. "If they'd only do
that, I'd warn Eliot. Of course I wouldn't give it away that I knew
abub-bout the crookedness all the time, for that would queer me worse
than ever. I've got to kuk-keep that a dark secret, sure enough."
He wondered what explanation he could make if he should warn Eliot;
surely he would have to tell how he came to believe that Wyndham was
wise to the signals of her opponents. There seemed only one reasonable
story for him to put forward: he would be compelled to claim that he
had overheard some persons in the crowd telling each other that such
was the case.
And that would be a lie!
"I lied once on account of that fellow Grant, and got caught at it,"
thought Phil. "If I should tell Eliot now, Rackliff might---- But he
doesn't know that I know he gave our signals to Wyndham. Still, if I
come out publicly and warn Roger, Rackliff may get sore and blow around
that part of the money he bet on Wyndham belonged to me."
Thus, wavering, tortured and miserable, he followed the progress of the
game, realizing more and more as it went on that Oakdale had absolutely
no chance at all while the players of the other side could see and
understand every batting and base-running signal that was given.
Fighting against such odds without knowledge of the fact seemed to Phil
to be a most outrageous thing, and he pledged himself that, from this
day forward, he would have no more dealings with Rackliff.
As it was not necessary for the first batter in an inning to signal,
Wyndham could not "lay for him" by the aid of knowledge gained in
advance, and to open the fourth Sile Cane strode forth and fell on one
of Newbert's slants, straightening it out handsomely for two sacks.
Grant, following, took his cue from Eliot and signalled Crane that he
would bunt, on which sacrifice the lanky fellow was to take third.
Springer's teeth grated together as he beheld the entire Wyndham
infield prepare to handle Rod's bunt, while Newbert drove Josh back and
held him as close as possible to the second sack. Suddenly the ball
was whipped over the pan, high and close, in spite of which the batter
succeeded in sending it rolling heavily into the diamond. But Newbert,
racing forward as soon as the sphere left his fingers, scooped it
cleanly with one hand and snapped it across to third without
straightening up. The baseman was covering the sack in a position to
get the long-geared runner, and, catching the ball, he put it on to
Crane with considerable viciousness as Josh slid.
"Out at third!" shouted the umpire, with up-flung hand.
The attempted sacrifice had been turned into a miserable failure solely
because the locals had known precisely what their opponents would try
to do.
"I can't stand much more of this!" groaned Springer aloud. "It's worse
than robbery! I'll have to get out."
Hearing the words, a rejoicing Wyndham sympathizer slapped him heavily
on the shoulder. "Don't take it so hard," laughingly advised the
familiar fellow. "It's just what everybody expected."
"Oh, is that so?" snapped Phil resentfully, turning his head to look up
at the chap. "Well, if this was a square game they might get their
expectations stepped on."
"A square game!" retorted the other. "What do you mean by that?
What's the matter with it? So far, it's the cleanest game I've seen
this year.
"It's the dirtiest game I ever saw! It's cuc-crooked from the start.
Oakdale hasn't a sus-show."
"Of course she hasn't; she's outclassed. You Oakdalers are poor
losers; you always squeal."
"Outclassed--nothing!" fumed Phil. "Oakdale is playing just as good
baseball as Wyndham--and playing it on the level."
"And by that I suppose you mean that Wyndham isn't playing on the
level?"
"You don't have to gug-guess twice; that's what I mean."
"Oh, go crawl into your hole! There hasn't been a kick. Anybody can
see that we're playing all round you simply because we've got the best
team. Dade Newbert is a dandy."
"Yes, he's a dandy at this sort of baseball. I happen to know just
what he is, and a fellow who'll do what he's dud-done to win this game
hasn't any right to pitch on a respectable nine."
"You're dotty. Look here, you better be careful about shooting off
that sort of talk, or you may have a chance to prove it."
"I can bub-back up anything I've said," declared Phil, now thoroughly
aroused. "I'm dead onto the whole dirty deal. If I should tell Roger
Eliot what I know you'd sus-see a change in the complexion of this game
in short order."
"Oh, really!" scoffed the incredulous Wyndhamite. "If you know so
much, why don't you tell it? If you know anything that amounts to
anything, you'll tell it--unless you're crooked yourself."
That cut deeply, and Springer choked back further heated words which
were boiling to his lips. What right had he to rail against Newbert?
Under the circumstances, his failure to warn his former teammates made
him fully as dishonest and deserving of contempt as the Wyndham
pitcher--far more so. The white anger of his face turned to a crimson
flush of shame.
Silenced, he saw Wyndham, ready to block the hit and run, take Cooper's
zipping grounder and turn into a double play what possibly might
otherwise have been a safety. In that moment Springer's mind was made
up, and he immediately left his seat on the bleachers.
"I'll tell Eliot the truth at any cost," he muttered.