PREPARATION
“Get it, Dan!” shouted Walter. “Use your oar! Hit it!”
The young oarsman obediently swung the skiff about and started swiftly
in pursuit of the reptile, but before the weeds were gained the snake
disappeared and a further search failed to reveal its presence.
“Too bad, Walter,” said Dan lightly. “What did you want of it?”
“Why, I’d have the skin tanned or stuffed and hang it on the wall of my
room in school.”
“What for?”
“‘What for?’ For an ornament.”
“Do the boys in the Tait School think snakes are ornamental?”
“Well, it would be interesting anyway. But it’s gone now and there’s no
use in talking about it any more. You weren’t quick enough, Dan.”
“No, I wasn’t quick enough, that’s a fact. A fellow would have to be
about as lively as a flash of lightning to catch one of those fellows
on the water.”
“Did you ever see as big a one as that was?”
“Never.”
“Sure it was a water-snake, Dan?”
“Yes. I’ve seen the time early in the month when a fellow walking
along the shore of Six Town Pond would stir up hundreds of these
fellows――little chaps a good many of them. The last time I was
here――and that is more than a year ago――I saw a lively fight between a
water-snake and a brown thrush.”
“Which won? What were they fighting about?”
“I don’t know, though I suspect that the snake had been robbing the
thrush’s nest. Probably had stolen the eggs or had swallowed the young
ones. The old bird was screaming and flying at the snake’s eyes and
head, while his snakeship was doing his best to get back to the water.
He’d crawl a few feet as lively as he could go and then he’d have to
stop and defend himself when the thrush would get in some fine work. It
was a lively tilt, let me tell you.”
“Did the snake get away?”
“Yes; though I’m sure he had a headache.”
“We’ll come back and get this fellow!” said Walter eagerly. “Why can’t
we come to-morrow?”
“Because we’re both to play ball.”
“So we are,” laughed Walter. “That’s the first time I ever forgot about
a ball game, but I certainly would like to have that skin. Dan, shall
we try for any more pickerel?”
“That’s for you to say.”
Walter hesitated a moment before he said: “I’m sure I could get some
more. It’s just the right time of day, and now that I’ve learned
just how to land the big fellows―――― You needn’t laugh,” he broke in
abruptly as a trace of a smile appeared on Dan’s face. “Didn’t I play
this last pickerel I caught all right? It didn’t get away anyhow.”
“No, it didn’t because it couldn’t.”
“Why did you keep telling me not to give it any slack then? If there
wasn’t any danger of losing it what difference did it make what I did?”
“I couldn’t see then how well it was hooked.”
“It was hooked all right.”
“It certainly was. A yoke of oxen might have hauled it ashore and there
wouldn’t have been a chance for the pickerel.”
“Well, it’s a beauty anyway,” said Walter proudly as he glanced down at
the great fish on the bottom of the skiff. “What will it weigh, Dan?”
“It ‘will’ weigh nine or ten pounds and get heavier every time you tell
how you caught it,” replied Dan with a smile.
“No. Tell me honestly what you think it weighs now.”
“It may tip the scales at eight pounds.”
“More than that!” asserted Walter confidently. “Dan, I’d like to stay
and get two or three more like this fellow, but I guess we’d better
start for home. It’ll be dark before we get there, even if we start
right away.”
“All right,” assented Dan promptly, as he instantly began to row toward
the landing-place.
“We’ll come back for the snake and some more of those big pickerel some
other time.”
“They’ll keep,” said Dan shortly.
Old Prince, with a whinny, greeted the return of the boys. In a brief
time the skiff was placed in the little boat-house on the shore, the
rods and various belongings were put into the buggy, and last of all
the big pickerel was wrapped in a bag and covered with a cloth under
the seat.
“Some people count the fish they catch; others weigh them,” said Walter
with a laugh as the homeward journey was begun.
“Yes, I guess that’s so,” assented Dan. “Sometimes there seems to be a
great deal of difficulty with the scales though.”
“There won’t be this time. Eight pounds, Dan. Don’t forget that. Be
sure you don’t.”
“I’m not likely to forget it――when you are anywhere near.”
“Never mind. I’ll take all the responsibility. Tell me about the game
to-morrow.”
“I can tell you better after to-morrow. I can’t weigh fish before I
have anything to weigh them with and I can’t tell you about a game
before it’s played.”
“You’re a great chap, Dan!” laughed Walter. “I’m afraid you haven’t any
imagination.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s the ability to see things――a little different from what they
really are.”
“I see. I guess old Si Slater, the harness-maker, must have more
imagination, as you call it, than any other man in――――”
“Why, what makes you think he has?”
“He never has been known to tell anything as it is. He sees things
a little different from what they really are. You say that’s
‘imagination.’ Perhaps it is, but we poor chaps up here in the country
don’t call it by that name exactly.”
“What do you call it?” inquired Walter laughingly.
“We just say Si Slater is the biggest liar in seven counties.”
“Is Si as fat as ever? I haven’t seen him since I came.”
“Fatter. You’ll see him to-morrow――and hear him too.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I say.”
“Is Si a ‘rooter’?”
“I guess so, though I’m sure I don’t know what a ‘rooter’ is.”
“Why, a ‘rooter’ is a wild ‘fan.’”
“Glad to hear it,” said Dan dryly. “While you are about it you might
explain what a ‘wild fan’ is.”
“I didn’t say a ‘wild fan.’ I said a ‘fan’ that is wild. A fan is a
baseball enthusiast――one that takes in all the games. A ‘rooter’ is
one that yells for his team――――”
“I see. I guess you can rely on Si’s yelling all right, and on his
attendance too. You’ll know it if he is there.”
“Know anything about the other nine, Dan?”
“Nothing except that they haven’t lost a game this summer.”
“How many have they played?”
“Five.”
“You going to pitch?”
“At the start. If they drive me out of the box we’ll have to call on
you or someone else.”
“I’ll keep. I regularly play short, but I can pitch a little. If I
could only curve a baseball the way I can a tennis ball I’d fool the
batter every time. What does Moulton say about your work?”
“He doesn’t say much.”
“Oh, well, I understand he’s a quiet fellow anyway.”
“He is.”
“Has he found much fault with your work?”
“No. He doesn’t say much about it, as I told you.”
“Probably he thinks you are doing all right or he would say so,” said
Walter, a little condescending in his manner. “You go ahead and try it
to-morrow and if you fall down I’ll see what I can do.”
It was late when the boys arrived at the place they were seeking and
their coming was announced by Walter’s shouts. When his grandfather
came out of the house to greet the young fishermen the huge pickerel
was displayed and the quiet comments of his grandfather were highly
pleasing to the elated Walter. As he turned to say good night to his
companion he again referred to the game of the morrow. “Don’t you be
anxious, Dan. You start in with your pitching and just remember that if
the Benson nine finds your curves you can rely on me to help you out.”
“That’s all right, Walter,” replied Dan quietly.
“The game is at three?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be over on time.”
“Good night.”
“Good night, Dan,” responded Walter as he entered the house.
* * * * *
Long before the time of the game on the following day Walter was on the
field. Dressed in the uniform of his school nine, he was aware of the
contrast between his neat, well-fitting suit and the quaint uniforms
of the players who were on the ground. A smile of satisfaction and a
slight deepening of his condescending manner were perhaps not unnatural
in view of the appearance of the two nines. On each there were two or
three who had no uniforms at all.
“Goin’ to play with our nine?”
Walter turned as the question was asked, and found himself face to
face with Si Slater, the village harness-maker. Si’s round face was
glowing with interest and his fat body was perspiring in spite of his
continued fanning with his straw hat of broad brim.
“Yes, I thought I would help the fellows out,” replied Walter, with a
laugh.
“All right. Ye’ll have t’ go some t’ keep up with Dan an’ Tom Richards.
They’re the best ball players in the whole county.”
“Are they?”
“You’re right they be. I’ve seen Dan knock a ball ’most forty rod.”
“I hope he’ll do it this afternoon.”
“He will if he gets half a chance. I guess maybe you’ve played ball
before, from th’ looks o’ those clothes ye’re wearin’.”
“Yes. I am on the school nine.”
“Ye don’t say! Well, do your prettiest! We don’t want them Benson chaps
to go home crowin’ over us.”
“We’ll try not to let them do that.”
“Hi! Look at that, will ye!” shouted the harness-maker as he slapped
his hands on his fat thighs and pointed to a ball which Dan, who was
batting flies for his fielders, had sent far over the heads of the
scattered field. “I’ve wondered a heap o’ times why the New Yorks
didn’t send up here for Dan. I guess he could give ’em all some points
on the game!”
“Have you ever seen the New Yorks play?”
“No; I can’t say ’t I have. I was talkin’ t’ Dan a spell ago an’ I
suggested that he should send word for ’em t’ come up here and have a
game. I guess they’d open their eyes when they see Tom and Dan.”
“What did Dan say?” inquired Walter quizzically.
“Nothin’. He isn’t much o’ a talker, Dan isn’t.”
“I shall be interested to-day in watching him.”
“Don’t ye watch him too much. Ye want t’ keep both eyes on yer own job.
Hi! Hi! Hi!” roared the enthusiastic Si as Dan lifted another high
fly. “That’s a pretty one. That’s th’ ticket, Dan!” The harness-maker
doubled his noisy applause and Walter turned to take his place as
short-stop in the preliminary practice. He smiled as he saw that the
diamond was laid out in an ordinary pasture. The lines had not been cut
in the turf, and even the pitcher’s box was on the dry sward, indicated
by chalk marks. As he looked about him he saw that the players were a
brown and sturdy lot, but their somewhat awkward attempts to stop the
ball brought once more a smile of condescension to his face. He laughed
as he recalled Si Slater’s suggestion as to a game with the New Yorks,
but in a brief time he was busied in his own practice.