As the Clippers approached, there was no sign of giving way in the
ground around Merriwell. The Carsonville boys were not equal in
numbers, but they were plainly anxious enough for battle. Carson paused
a few yards distant.
“Well, what do you want?” snapped Merry.
“We’re goin’ to run you out o’ town, see?” retorted Squint Fletcher,
his cross eyes glaring savagely. “You’re here tryin’ to stir up trouble
against us, eh? Well, you don’t get no chance.”
“I think you’re misinformed,” returned Chip quietly. “No one’s stirring
up a fuss except you.”
“Oh, is that so?” Bully Carson pushed forward aggressively, clutching
his bat. “I suppose you didn’t try to kill dad yesterday, hey? I
suppose you didn’t set Billy Mac on me, hey?”
“You’re doing a lot of supposing,” said Merry dryly. “Your thinking
apparatus needs oiling, Bully. Try a cigarette. It may straighten out
things.”
Merriwell’s calm demeanor, and the resolute air of the group around
him, rather cooled the ardor of the Clippers. It only angered Carson
and Fletcher the more, however.
“So you’re the famous Chip Merriwell, hey?” spluttered Squint, shoving
his undershot chin forward. “I guess we’ve heard enough slush out o’
you and the rest o’ this gang. Let’s beat ’em up proper, fellers!”
“Yah!” chirruped Chub, dancing on the outskirts of the crowd. “Try it!
Ask Bul-l-ly where he got that bump on his chin. Ask him!”
This sally scored, for Billy Mac’s fist had left unmistakable marks on
the heavy countenance of the captain of the Clippers.
“You’ll get yours, you little runt!” foamed the angry Carson,
brandishing his bat at Chub. “We’ll make you pretty sick of lettin’ off
your jaw around here!”
“Well, you’re a mighty slow bunch to git started,” observed the lanky,
bronzed McCarthy, who worked in the orchards, and looked it. He spat on
his hands. “I allus did want to paste them lamps of yours, Squint.”
“You’ll get your wish, all right,” added Bud Bradley, shoving forward
belligerently. “Let’s take Carson down and throw him in the river,
fellows!”
This proposal was greeted with high delight on the part of the town
group. The Clippers began to move forward, and Merriwell saw that a
conflict was imminent.
“You’d better go slow,” he advised the Carson crowd. “We’re not forcing
any battle, remember. Keep back there, Bradley. If they start it, let
them take the consequences.”
“We’ve got ’em scared already,” jeered Squint Fletcher. “Leave that
Merriwell kid to me. I’ll handle him!”
“Yes, you won’t!” piped up Chub Newton. “Yah! L-l-lambaste ’em,
Bil-l-ly!”
Chub’s shrill cry was the last straw. Carson emitted a furious roar and
raised his bat, while his team began crowding forward. The group around
Merry closed in compactly, and it looked as if there would surely be a
fight.
At that instant, however, a brawny man shoved in between the two
parties. Squint Fletcher was just aiming a blow, and the man seized him
by the shoulders and flung him back, sending him into Carson with a
thump.
“That’s enough o’ this!” roared the town constable, for the man was no
other. “I been keepin’ my eye on you, Fletcher. Clear out o’ here, the
bunch of you.”
“What right have you got to interfere?” cried Carson angrily. “I’ll
have my father----”
“You shut up, or I’ll pinch you!” exclaimed the constable hotly. “I
don’t care for either you or your dad. I’m constable o’ this town. Git
out, now, and do it lively, or I’ll run the lot o’ you in! Jump!”
He pulled forth his club. Seeing that he meant business, Carson flung
a sullen look around, nodded to his gang, and they melted away. The
constable turned to Merry.
“Much obliged,” said Chip, smiling. “We were afraid they meant trouble.”
“So they did,” growled the constable. “You’d better let ’em simmer
down.”
“We will,” said Billy. The group was just breaking up when Merriwell
halted them.
“One minute, everybody. What do you say to getting a game with the
Clippers this Saturday? I believe it’s an open date; I can pitch, and
if you’re willing to work between now and then, we can give them a run
for their money!”
“Whoop!” A yell of delight burst from every throat.
“Bully for you!” cried Spaulding, grabbing Merry’s hand and pumping it.
“No, us fer Bully!” said McCarthy. “You bet we will!”
“Can you get a team together?” asked Chip. “If you can, meet at Billy’s
house to-night and talk things over.”
“We can get everything but a first baseman,” said Bud Bradley, thinking
quickly.
“Well, maybe I can take care of that,” said Merry. He remembered that
Owen Clancy was at Fardale, and his chum could be induced to come to
Carsonville. “So long, then. Billy and I will get the game, and we’ll
expect you right after supper. Bring all the fellows you can get, and
we’ll start practice work in the morning.”
This sudden proposal had been simmering in Merriwell’s brain for some
moments. He knew that it would be hard for him to get away from Fardale
later in the season, and if these local players had any talent, there
might be a chance of defeating the Clippers at once.
The group broke up. Merry and Billy set off together, while the others
spread the news through the town in great excitement.
“We’ve undertaken a big contract, Billy. Let’s go up and see the
colonel now.”
“I’m willing,” said Billy Mac. “But he’ll want to bet on the game,
Chip.”
“He’ll--what?”
McQuade explained hastily. It seemed that Colonel Carson was used to
plunging heavily on his own team, in common with a number of other men
who followed the Amateur League. Some large sums of money changed hands
as a result of the games.
“If he only knew it,” exclaimed Merry, frowning, “that will hurt his
chance of ever buying into a big-league team. That sort of a man is not
wanted in baseball to-day. However, we’ll see if he’s willing to play
us.”
The two friends wended their way to the large white house occupied
by Colonel Carson. They were met at the door by that gentleman, in
person, who did not ask them inside, but stiffly inquired their
business.
Merriwell stated it, saying that he understood the Clippers had an open
date on Saturday, and that he would like to meet them with a pick-up
Carsonville team. The colonel tugged at his goatee suspiciously.
“What’s your object?” he snapped. “Want to play for the gate receipts?”
“Not at all,” said Chip. “We just want to play the Clippers off their
feet, and we intend to do it.”
“Humph!” grunted the other. “Got a mighty good opinion of yourself,
hey?” His face cleared suddenly. “Mebbe you’d like to make a little
side bet, you or Billy?”
“No, thanks,” returned Merriwell. “I don’t gamble, and I don’t think
Billy does.”
“Well, look a-here,” went on Colonel Carson wheedlingly, addressing
Billy. “I know you’ve got some insurance money, McQuade. You put it up
on this game, and I’ll give you odds, two to one. How’s that? Ain’t
that fair?”
“Fair enough,” grinned Billy Mac. “Only, I’m not in your class as a
gambler, colonel. No, we’re in this just to show up that club of yours,
and do it proper. That’ll satisfy us.”
“But if you won,” persisted the other, taking no heed of the taunt,
“you’d have enough to pay off that mortgage, and some over!”
Billy wavered, but only for an instant.
“Nothing doing,” he declared firmly. “If you want to play us, we’ll
make your old team hump itself. If you’re scared of getting beaten, all
right. Just say so.”
“What! The Clippers scared o’you!” Colonel Carson laughed scornfully
as he eyed the two. “Well, I guess not! It’s a go. The reg’lar umpires
will be here, anyway, so I guess we can use ’em?”
“Certainly,” said Merriwell. “We may have the ball park for practice?”
“Not much,” retorted Colonel Carson. “Get your own practice ground.
Mebbe you had a notion I’d lend you uniforms!”
“No, we’d hate to play in Clipper uniforms,” returned Merry gravely.
Colonel Carson was not quite sure how to take that remark, so he let it
pass.
“Too bad you’re scared to bet on yourself,” he said cuttingly. “Got any
battery picked out yet?”
“We’ll be it,” said Billy, with a grin. “Merriwell pitches for Fardale,
you know.”
“Humph! And you’ll do the ketchin’, hey? Well, I don’t wonder that you
fellers don’t want to bet, then!”
Merry flushed a trifle.
“You’re wrong, Colonel Carson. I don’t believe in betting on principle.
And especially where baseball is concerned. It’s an unhealthy element
to drag into the game, and the big baseball men have no use for a
gambler, any more than good business men have.”
This speech caused Colonel Carson to flush. His hard-lined, unhealthy
face took on a most unpleasant aspect.
“Oh, you think you’re smart!” he observed darkly. “Young man, I’ve not
forgotten what took place yesterday morning. You’re goin’ to regret it.
I intend to make you so sick of this town that you’ll never come back
to it.”
“Thanks,” said Merry easily. “The town looks pretty good to me,
though--all except the name. Well, you haven’t said whether we’d get
that game or not.”
“Of course you’ll get it,” said Colonel Carson. “We’ll run up such a
score on you that you’ll quit before the third inning.”
“Thanks again,” and Merry chuckled. “Maybe you’ll change your mind
about that. Anyhow, we’ll make you hump.”
“Humph!” grunted the colonel, as if to echo the last word. “Two-thirty
this Saturday. I’ll provide the umpires, and they’ll be our regular
league men.”
“That suits me,” said Merry, and the two friends took their departure.
Billy stated that there need be no worry about the umpiring, as that
end of the league was in good hands, and the umpires were excellent men.
“That’ll help a whole lot, then,” said Merry. “To-day is Wednesday,
Billy. We will get started to-morrow morning. Two days of practice
looks pretty slim, but I guess we can pull through. Want to get out
with your mitt for signal work this afternoon?”
“You bet!” cried Billy excitedly. “And I’ll catch you in a real
game--my eye!”
“Let’s hope we don’t make exhibitions of ourselves,” said Merry.