WYNDHAM’S LAST DESPERATE STAND.
Charley Shultz sneered openly, with his full red upper lip curved high
and exposing his broad teeth, as the delighted Oakdale players
congratulated their comrade who had made that opportune home-run drive.
“Look a’ that gangling country jay,” he muttered in Osgood’s ear. “See
him grin like a baboon. See him distend his flat chest. Probably he
thinks himself a Lajoie or a Wagner.”
“Hush, Charley!” cautioned Osgood gently. “Don’t be too open in your
feelings; it’s bad policy. Besides, I’ve got Crane on the string. He’s
astride the fence now, and doesn’t know which way he’s going to fall.”
“Oh, all right,” returned Shultz; “but I don’t see what use you can have
for him. He hasn’t any money, and his influence doesn’t amount to much.”
“Even the support of the weakest chap may prove of some value when the
break comes.”
“After to-day you ought to force things in a hurry. I hope you’re not
going to stand for the rotten deal that swell-head Nelson has handed out
to us.”
“Have patience, old man—have patience,” soothed Osgood. “I’ll strike
when the iron is hot. When possible, a good general always avoids going
into an engagement before his plans are properly prepared and his forces
strengthened to the full limit.”
The fact that these two disgruntled fellows took no part in the
rejoicing of their team seemed to be overlooked at the time; for this
was a game in which a run in the tenth inning was of tremendous
importance, and, taking into consideration the recent course of the
contest, almost an assurance of victory. A triumph over the always
formidable Wyndhamites in the season’s first meeting between the two
teams would give Oakdale a much desired advantage in the High School
League.
“Oh, why can’t I do something like that?” cried Cooper. “It makes my
solitary little tap look like ten below zero, and I always get cold feet
in that sort of weather.”
Nevertheless, he faced Lefty Leach like a chap exuding confidence from
every pore. Leach was frowning and savage in his bearing, but Chipper
returned the Wyndham pitcher’s dark look with a cheerful smile,
threatening to start the stitches in the horsehide if Lefty dared to put
one over.
The thunderstruck and dismayed Wyndham crowd awoke from its benumbed
condition and resumed cheering, although there was plainly a
disheartened note in the volume of sound, something which the players
themselves must have recognized. On the other hand, the Oakdale
spectators were once more jubilant with restored confidence in their
team and the conviction that Crane’s wonderful wallop had practically
decided the result.
Despite Cooper’s aggressive attitude of assurance, Leach unhesitatingly
slanted the ball across and continued to do so while the Oakdale
shortstop rapped out foul after foul.
“You’ll get him in a minute,” encouraged Baxter. “He never was any good
with the war-club.”
Much to Cooper’s sorrow, this prophecy came true, for Chipper finally
hoisted a short one back of first for Turner, the baseman, to gather in.
“Only three more men, Grant,” said Nelson. “Get them, and we hang up a
scalp.”
“I’ll sure do it if it’s in me,” whispered the Texan to himself, as he
made his way to the diamond.
Baxter rushed to the bench to have a few words with his players.
“Don’t be too eager, fellows,” he cautioned; “and still, don’t let him
sneak any good ones across. He’s pitching for his life now, but he’ll
try to pull you all. If you can start us going, Foxy, we’ll crawl out of
this hole right here.”
Making no retort, Foxhall stepped into the batters’ box and watched the
Oakdale pitcher make the situation more difficult for himself by failing
to find the pan with the first two pitches. An in-shoot followed, and,
remembering Baxter’s words, Foxhall picked it off the inside corner with
a sharp swing that sent it grass-cutting ten feet inside of third.
Roy Hooker, who was filling Osgood’s position, was not an infielder,
and, although he leaped in front of the ball, he failed to keep his feet
together, which allowed the humming sphere to go through him cleanly.
“Ha! Look a’ that!” cried Shultz, giving Osgood a nudge. “That would
never have happened if you’d been there.”
“Don’t make comparisons—don’t,” said Osgood quickly. “They are odious.
He’s going to stretch it into a double.”
Sent onward by the coacher, Foxhall raced over the initial sack and
stretched himself for second. It chanced, however, that Sleuth Piper was
in position to back Hooker up, and, rushing forward, he took the ball on
a favorable bound and threw it to second while still in his stride. It
was one of the cleanest pieces of fielding, and perhaps the best throw,
Piper had ever made in his baseball career, for it came straight into
the hands of Nelson, who disregarded the dangerous spikes of the sliding
runner and tagged Foxhall so cleanly and effectively that the locals had
not the slightest excuse for a kick on the decision of “out.”
“Well, wouldn’t that cramp you!” muttered Shultz disgustedly. “Why in
thunder did the man try to make a double of it?”
“Once more,” said Osgood, “I must caution you not to show your feelings
so plainly. Even if we’re benched, we’re still members of the team
and——”
“I don’t know whether _I_ am or not,” rasped the resentful Shultz. “I
don’t propose to play on any team where I’m handed a raw deal by a thing
like Jack Nelson.”
“Now look here,” said his companion, “you’ll stick on the team unless
you’re fired off it, for as members of the nine we’ll have more pull
with the bunch than otherwise. You’re too brash, Charley. You haven’t
any policy or subtleness. Don’t think for a minute that I’m not just as
sore as you, but as injured yet still loyal Oakdalers we can win more
sympathy than by open rebellion.”
“I s’pose you’re right,” admitted Shultz; “but I never could control
myself the way you can.”
That the Wyndham boys realized how desperate the situation was became
manifest through an undisguised quarrel which now arose between Foxhall
and two of his teammates who attempted to criticize him.
“What’s the matter with you?” snapped the bitterly disappointed chap.
“Pelty sent me down. Chew the rag with him if you’re going to jump on
any one. How’d I know that fielder was in position to back up and get
the ball to second so soon?”
“Cut that out, all of you,” interposed Baxter. “Stop fussing and play
ball. This game isn’t over yet.”
“But it’s pretty well over,” cried Cooper gleefully. “It’s all over but
the shouting.”
Cohen, who seemed never troubled by a weak heart, predicted that he
would get a hit and begged Wolcott to advance him with a duplicate. Then
the nervy young Hebrew stood forth and demonstrated that he had a good
eye by refusing to bite at the coaxers and compelling Grant to put the
pill across. When this was done, he hit it hard and fair, the resounding
crack bringing a shout from the Wyndham crowd.
That shout was abruptly cut short when Cooper shot into the air and
pulled Cohen’s drive down with one hand. From the opposite side of the
field burst the sudden relieved shrieks of the Oakdalers, whose hearts
had been choking them an instant before.
“Keep quiet, Charley,” said Osgood, placing a hand on his friend’s knee.
“It looks like it’s really all over. Take your cue from me and pretend
you’re happy.”
“You’re asking just a bit too much, Ned,” said Shultz huskily. “You know
I’m a poor bluffer in any kind of a game.”
“But you’re usually lucky, just the same; I’ve seen you hold some great
cards.”
“Some catch, Chipper—some catch,” Grant was saying happily. “You raked
the clouds for that one.”
“I had to do something to make up for my last raw play,” returned the
beaming little chap.
Nelson was laughing. “We’re backing you up now, Rodney, old boy. That
kind of support ought to give you courage to take a fall out of
Wolcott.”
To tell the truth, although he made a pretense of being undismayed and
confident, there was really little hope left in Wolcott’s heart.
Nevertheless, it was always Wyndham’s way to play a game out without
let-up, and the batter showed that he was trying for a hit by fouling
the ball several times. Presently, however, the Texan deceived him with
one of his most effective drops, and Wolcott’s fruitless slice at the
air brought the game to an end with the score 4 to 3 in Oakdale’s favor.