PITCHERS’ WATERLOO
Although Bristol said nothing to Jewett, it was sheer luck which kept
the pitcher from receiving a call-down by his manager. It was also
luck, combined with poor work on the part of Curley, that gave Jewett
an opportunity to reclaim himself in the second inning; for the locals
got after Curley with such effect that two runs had been secured
through hits and errors, with only one man down, when Kennedy pulled
the twirler from the mound, and sent Sullivan out. On Sullivan’s long
swing another run came in before the home team was retired. With this
comfortable lead of three tallies, Bristol decided to save his new man
for a tight pinch or some other game.
“It’s uphill work now, boys,” said Kennedy to his players; “but a bunch
that can’t fight an uphill game is no good. Get after that easy mark,
and force Bristol to show us what he’s got out there in the offing.
Make him use his new colt.”
Already the wise old war horse had sent Heines out to keep his flipper
oiled, fearing that Sullivan would prove meat for the Bucks. Despite
Jack’s urging, which possibly made the youngsters of his team a bit too
eager, Jewett got away with it in the first of the second, only one man
threatening from third before the side was retired without cutting down
that lead of three.
“Now,” said Spider Hogan, field captain of the Buccaneers, “it’s up to
us to put the wood to Sullivan. That old soup bone of his can’t keep
this bunch in check. Every man that gets on first steals on his swing.
Don’t forget.”
Kennedy also had his fears for Sullivan’s “soup bone.” He spoke to
Lefty Locke, who was watching the progress of the struggle with the
keenest interest.
“Reddy can’t hold ’em,” he said; “nor Heines, either. If I had that
left-handed youngster of mine to put in here now the boys would support
him, and perhaps they’d tie this thing up sudden before Bristol got
cagy and shoved his new man on to the slab. You’re left-handed, and
you’ve found out that you can handle a baseball.”
“You don’t mean――” muttered Locke.
“You know where that grip of mine is containing an old suit. There’s
everything in it but a left-handed glove, and Collins is left-handed.
He’d let you have his fielder’s glove. He could get along without it
out in right.”
“You don’t mean――” repeated Lefty.
“I can’t tell you any plainer what I mean. Which had you rather do,
pitch baseball for me at fifty a week and keeps, or work on a farm at
twenty-five a month?”
“If I thought――” Locke still hesitated.
“Let me do the thinking for you,” urged Kennedy. “Get into that suit,
and watch your chance to take Heines’ place warmin’ up the minute I
have to use him. You can reach the dressing room by going round this
side of the field.”
“I’ll try it,” said Lefty, rising; “but don’t blame me――”
“There won’t be any kicks comin’,” promised Kennedy, elated. “I’m
taking the chance. You haven’t made any profession of being a ball
tosser. Go to it.”
Thus encouraged, while Sullivan was trying to hold the Buccaneers in
check, and getting away with the inning by allowing them only one run,
Locke sauntered to the dressing room, found Kennedy’s old uniform, and
got into it. As he passed Heines, the little pitcher gave him a look,
and called:
“It’s about time you got into gear if Jack’s going to use you to-day.
He’s worked the rest of us stiff, and the Bucks have grabbed the game
already.”
Lefty made no retort. Having prepared himself for the field, he waited,
watching Heines.
In the third inning the visitors, steadied by their manager, again
bumped Jewett, and this time old Jack’s form of attack was not defeated
by a streak of luck. Jewett, sweating and worried after the first two
men had hit safely, lost his control, passed another, hit the fourth
with a pitched ball, and forced a run. Still Bristol delayed, and the
next Deer, slashing out a clean two-bagger, drove two more runners
across the pan before Hank gave his pitcher the hook. Elgin came
trotting in from the far corner, and ascended the hillock.
He was greeted by a roar from the great crowd, which brought a smile to
his face, and caused him to touch his cap proudly.
“I knew he’d have to do it,” bellowed Peter McLaughlin, when the
ovation died down. “Go right after him, boys. You can get his alley,
too.”
Elgin glanced in the direction from which the landlord’s voice came,
and shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.
“Give that calf more rope, or he’ll bellow his head off,” he said; at
which would-be witticism the local crowd in the vicinity of McLaughlin
broke into a chorus of jeers and catcalls.
“A pitcher who talks back,” muttered the hotel proprietor, “has a goat
to let. We’ll get his before the game’s done, or I’m no judge.”
Elgin found the plate with a couple of pitches, and nodded to the
batter, who stepped into his place. Behind the pan, Yapp, signaling,
spoke only for the hitter’s ear:
“He’s got awful speed. He kills ’em sometimes. Look out for his bean
ball.”
Following the signal, Elgin whipped a scorcher straight at the head of
the batter, who gasped, and ducked barely in time.
“Look out!” cried the pitcher even as the sphere left his fingers.
And then, as Yapp handled it and returned it promptly, he said
apologetically: “I haven’t pitched for a week, and I may be a little
wild.”
That was enough for that hitter, whose three swings failed to touch
anything more solid than the ozone.
“So that’s his game in the bush, is it?” growled Kennedy. “Don’t let
him drive you away from the plate. Everybody stand up and hit the ball.”
No one, however, seemed to care to be hit by Elgin’s speed, and the
new man stopped the Deers in their tracks; which brought him another
ovation from the local crowd.
Sullivan started badly by handing one to the first Buccaneer who faced
him in the third which the hitter slashed into right for a single.
Remembering Bristol’s instructions, the runner went down to second on
Sullivan’s first swing, from which anchorage it would be possible for
him to score on the right kind of a safety. Then Sullivan dealt out
a pass, which brought Kennedy to his feet, and caused Heines to come
trotting slowly and reluctantly toward the mound.
Lefty Locke, joining the spare catcher, began to warm up.