CHANGING THE SCHEDULE.
Dick and Ray Garrett were waiting in Uriah Blackington’s office when
Hammerswell and Jared Whitcomb entered. The Maplewood manager carried
himself with an air of self-satisfaction and importance.
“Well, gentlemen,” he said, “it seems that the Trolley League is ready
to start afresh on a level footing. No team has an advantage now, and
that’s a good thing for the league. I have the boys to make you hustle,
and Maplewood proposes to walk off with the pennant.”
“What’s this business about changing the schedule?” asked Garrett.
“Fairhaven is satisfied with the schedule as it stands.”
“Maplewood and Seaslope are not,” retorted Hammerswell. “I also
understand that Rockford would like to make one or two changes. Is that
right, Mr. Blackington?”
“If these changes can be made without stirring up hard feelings I favor
it,” nodded Uriah Blackington. “I don’t want to kick up strife. There’s
been enough of that.”
“You see, Garrett,” said Hammerswell, “three of us wish to make some
changes. If you object, you will stand alone.”
“What are the changes you wish to make?” inquired Ray.
“I have the thing all jotted down here,” said Hammerswell, producing a
sheet of paper. “Mr. Whitcomb and myself have agreed on it. Just look it
over, Mr. Blackington.”
Uriah Blackington glanced over the altered schedule and nodded.
“That’s satisfactory to me,” he said. “You have given us two Friday
games in place of a game Thursday and a game Wednesday. Friday is the
best day for Rockford.”
Garrett waited quietly until the others had examined the newly outlined
schedule. He then took it and inspected it with Dick.
“What do you think about the changes?” he asked, in a low tone.
“See here,” said Dick, pointing at the schedule, “Hammerswell has
shifted the game to-morrow so that it is to be in Maplewood instead of
Fairhaven. Do you see his object?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s plain enough. His team is winning now. With all the teams tied, he
fancies he can gain an advantage by playing the next game at home. Two
teams must lose to-morrow. That will place them both tied for last
position. The two teams that win will be tied for first position.
Hammerswell is looking for first position. If he secures an advantage by
winning to-morrow, he’ll have a fairly good hold on the place.”
“Then you object to that change, do you?”
“Wait a minute,” said Dick. “Let me run this thing over. You see he has
it fixed so our final game of the season is to be played in Maplewood. I
object to that. If he has this game in Maplewood to-morrow, Fairhaven
must have the last two games at home. Stand firm on that, Ray. If they
agree to it we can afford to accept these other changes.”
“That’s right,” nodded Garrett, and immediately he announced to the
meeting Fairhaven’s position in the matter.
Hammerswell raised an objection, and was feebly backed by Whitcomb. The
Maplewood man turned in appeal to Uriah Blackington.
“You see there are two of us against one, Mr. Blackington. That ought to
decide the matter.”
“But it doesn’t,” declared the Rockford manager grimly.
“Why not?”
“Because we’ve agreed on a schedule, and unless all managers are
satisfied with any changes made there can be no changes. If you want
this game to-morrow at Maplewood, Mr. Hammerswell, you will have to
accept Fairhaven’s terms and give them the last two games on the
island.”
In vain Hammerswell argued and pleaded. With difficulty he repressed his
annoyance and anger. For once he found it impossible to carry things his
own way, and in the end he was compelled to acquiesce to Garrett’s
terms. When this final agreement was made, the altered schedule was
accepted by vote in the regular manner.
“We got the best of that, Garrett,” smiled Dick, as they left
Blackington’s office together. “The two last games on the island should
be rousers for us. If we are in position to fight for first place, we
will have big crowds and make a fat thing out of it.”
“That’s right, Dick,” nodded Ray. “You were long-headed in demanding
that change. I am sorry we have to return to Fairhaven to-night. That
trip across always shakes the team up some and puts it out of condition.
We’ll have to return as early as possible to-morrow in order to rest up
on the mainland before the game.”
“Why not remain here?” suggested Dick. “Hammerswell counts on our making
the trip to-morrow, and without doubt he expects his players to be in
first-class condition, while we should be somewhat shaken up. Let’s fool
him.”
“A good suggestion!” cried Garrett. “If they celebrate on the island
to-night they will have to do so without us. We’ll stay right here.”
Thus it came about that the _Lady May_ returned to Fairhaven without the
ball team.
That night Dick Merriwell and Bart Hodge sat up until a late hour
talking. Of course, Dick was anxious to hear all about his brother, and
therefore he plied Hodge with questions.
“Why didn’t Frank come himself?” he asked for the third time.
“He wanted to,” said Hodge, “but he felt that he couldn’t spare the time
just now. His mining interests have kept him busy during the last few
weeks.”
“Where did you leave him—in Denver?”
“No; in Chicago.”
“Chicago?” exclaimed Dick. “Why? How was that? I didn’t suppose——”
“It was business that took us both to Chicago. We have been negotiating
with a syndicate that wants to buy the Phantom Mine in the Mazatzals.
They sent an expert to examine the property, and we know he made a
favorable report, for they offered us a price on it. We wired our terms,
and they urged us to come on to Chicago. When we arrived there, however,
they attempted to cut down on us, and the whole deal hung up. Had we put
it through, it was our intention to come on here together in time to
witness the final games in this league. I have left everything in
Frank’s hands. He wished me to come on, and we agreed on our rock-bottom
price before I pulled out of Chicago. If the syndicate comes to terms,
all right; if they don’t accept our figures, the deal is off.”
“Are you anxious to sell your interest in the mine?” asked Dick.
“Not exactly anxious,” answered Hodge; “but I have a wish to go into
business in the East, and the money I should receive would be enough to
set me up. Frank has his other mines to look after, and he’s willing to
let go of the Phantom. Still, we know it’s valuable property, and we’re
not going to sell it for anything under a fair price.”
“I thought,” said Dick, “that there still might be some trouble over
that mine, and that possibly you were willing to dispose of it for that
reason.”
“Not a bit of trouble,” smiled Hodge. “All that thing seems settled.
Frank has downed his enemies in the West, and things are moving
swimmingly. His San Pablo Mine, in Mexico, is the richest property, but
the expense of packing ore a long distance to the railroad, and shipping
it north to a smelter, cuts down his profits. He has a scheme now of
organizing a company to build a railroad that will give him an outlet to
the north. It’s likely he’ll try to push this project along while he is
in Chicago. If the railroad is ever constructed, it is likely he’ll be
actively engaged in the work. Dick, your brother is a hustler.”
Dick’s eyes gleamed and his face wore an expression of pride.
“Frank’s all right,” he declared. “Not many fellows have a brother like
him.”
Bart smiled and nodded.
“Those are nearly the words he used about you the night before I left
Chicago. We were talking of old times at Fardale, and finally he fell to
speaking of you. He’s pretty proud of you, Dick.”
“I don’t know of anything I have ever done to make him proud of me,”
said the boy.
“Well, I rather fancy you’ve demonstrated that you have the right stuff
in you. He feels certain you’ll make a good record at Yale if you get
there.”
“Bart,” said Dick soberly, “the knowledge that my brother expects so
much of me will be enough to always keep me at my best. Not only does
this keep me at my best, but I fancy, at times, it causes me to rise
above myself. Whatever I become, whatever successes I achieve, I shall
owe everything to Frank.”
Bart rose quickly and seized Dick’s hand. His own face was glowing now.
“My own sentiments, my boy,” he cried. “Only for the influence and
friendship of Frank Merriwell I might have gone to the dogs. I was well
started on a bad road. When we first met I took a positive dislike to
him, which rapidly developed into hatred. I was not above mean things at
that time, and I lost no opportunity to injure him. Almost any other
fellow having such an enemy would have sought revenge for those
injuries. Instead of that, when I got into serious trouble Frank gave me
a helping hand. At first I thought he feared me, but after a while
events demonstrated that he feared no one, and I realized that his
actions came through his natural generosity and nobility.
“Then I compared myself with him, and the result filled me with shame.
At first I was resentful because I realized he was so much my superior.
I tried to pull off by myself and keep away from him. Fate would not
have it so. The course of events flung us together, and it seems to me
now that in a single moment all my hatred and jealousy vanished, and I
came to respect and admire him, even though I fancied he could never
regard me as a friend. I had a nasty disposition, and whenever anything
went wrong I was inclined to take a slump and forget whatever good
resolutions I had made. Time after time he lifted me over bad places and
set me on the right road. Ninety-nine persons out of a thousand would
have lost patience with me. He proved to be one in a thousand, and his
patience never failed. He fancied he saw the making of a man in me, and
therefore he forgave all my slips and failings. Do you wonder I swear by
him, Dick?
“There came a time when my loyalty was taxed. I think I was smitten on
Elsie Bellwood the first time I saw her; but I knew Frank cared for her,
and I fancied I would prove myself contemptibly disloyal if I betrayed
him by showing the slightest regard for Elsie. Thus it was that for two
or three years, at least, I smothered and repressed my feelings toward
her. Not until I knew beyond doubt that Frank cared more for Inza
Burrage than for Elsie did I give way to my feelings. Even then I didn’t
dream Elsie could care for me. But it has turned out all right at last.”
A strange look came to the boy’s face.
“If I tell you something, Bart,” he said impulsively, “you mustn’t ever
give it away. Promise you won’t.”
“All right,” nodded Hodge. “I promise.”
“Well, had I been in Frank’s place I’m sure I would have chosen Elsie.
Don’t misunderstand me. I like Inza, I admire Inza.”
Hodge laughed outright.
“Dick,” he said, “you and I are much alike. I recognized that fact long
ago. Now tell me all about yourself and your experiences down here. I am
going to write Frank to-night in order to let him know how our little
plan worked. He suggested the tramp business in imitation of a tramp we
once met while making a tour with a ball team composed of Yale men. The
fellow called himself Willie Walker, or something of that sort, and he
was a genuine hobo. I was knocked out and couldn’t go behind the bat.
Walker appeared on the field during practice and demonstrated that he
could catch. Merry put him into a game, and he proved to be a wizard.
Strangest part of it all was that he was a Yale graduate who had once
played on the varsity team. We never found out his real name. While
Frank and I were talking things over the night before I started East, he
suggested that I should try the trick. I was certain I couldn’t make it
work, but finally agreed to try it. It was lucky I did.”
“Lucky!” cried Dick. “I should say so! Only for you we’d lost that
game.”
“But the real luck came about when I heard Fernald and this Maplewood
man, Hammerswell, plotting downstairs in this hotel. I pretended to be
asleep, but I was pretty wide-awake. All the time I was straining my
ears to catch what they were saying. They kept muttering and whispering,
and I could not hear much of it. However, I decided to watch Fernald,
and in that manner it came about that I got in with those toughs engaged
by Fernald to knock you and Brad out. That upset Fernald’s calculations
somewhat, but he succeeded in drugging Buckhart. Fernald did not
originate that plan; Hammerswell was responsible for it.”
“That miserable scoundrel has been at the bottom of all the crookedness
in this league!” cried Dick. “He’s a thoroughbred rascal, and he’s bound
to get his just deserts in time.”
Dick then told Bart all about his adventures since arriving in Maplewood
with his baseball team. Naturally, Hodge was very indignant as he
listened to the recounting of Benton Hammerswell’s plots.
“I congratulate you, Dick!” he cried when the boy had finished. “You
have done amazingly well to hold your own in this league. It’s evident
all the crookedness has been aimed at you. With the teams tied as they
are, and Fernald dropped from the management of the Rockford team, you
have a chance to land in first place. It’s going to be a hard game at
Maplewood to-morrow.”
“That’s right,” nodded Dick. “Hammerswell means to take that game,
somehow.”
“Better go to bed now,” advised Hodge. “The rest of the boys are
snoozing ere this. I shall sit up a while to write.”
Long after Dick had fallen asleep Hodge sat writing to Frank. He told
how the tramp trick had worked, and all about Dick’s gallant fight in
the Trolley League.
“It’s evident, Frank,” he wrote, in conclusion, “that you have a brother
with the real Merriwell blood in his veins. He never quits. I wish you
might be here to witness the final games in this league, for, unless
Fairhaven is beaten by treachery and plotting, I am confident Dick will
land his team on top at the finish.”
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