A CLASH WITH LUKE
For several minutes Joe stood staring after the baseball manager. The
young pitcher's arm hung listlessly at his side. There was a look on his
face that would have been sad, had Joe been that kind of a lad--showing
his feelings needlessly. But our hero was full of spunk and grit, and,
though Hiram's unnecessarily cruel words hurt him grievously, Joe shut
his teeth with a firmer grip, squared his shoulders, drew himself up,
and then he smiled at Tom.
"Well, of all the mean, unmitigated, low-down, cantankerous, sneaking,
bulldozing and----" sputtered the first baseman.
"Hold on!" exclaimed his companion. "You'll blow up if you go on that
way, Tom. Besides, save some of those big words for a time when you may
need 'em."
"Need 'em? Say if I don't need 'em now I never will. I wish I had
thought to get rid of a few when that bully was here."
"You'd only gotten into trouble. Better keep still about it."
"I can't Joe. Just think of it! We came here to play ball, and the first
crack out of the box that fellow goes and tells us we can't."
"Well, I don't know as I have any particular right to play on the nine
here."
"Yes, you have, the best right in the world! I'll bet they haven't got
a pitcher here who can stand up to you, and I'm going to tell that
sneaking bully so, too," and Tom started off after the departing Hiram.
"No, don't!" cried Joe quickly. "It will only make matters worse."
"But you want to pitch; don't you?"
"Sure, but that would be the best way in the world to insure that I
wouldn't. Hiram Shell is just the kind of a fellow who, if he thinks a
chap wants anything, is going to do his best--or worst--to stop him."
"What are you going to do then?"
"I'm going to lie low and saw wood. The baseball season hasn't opened
yet. The team isn't made up. Nobody knows who is going to play and----"
"Well, Hiram as good as told us two fellows who weren't going to play,"
interrupted Tom. "That's you and I."
"Wait a bit," advised Joe. "I was going to say that when the season has
started and several games have been played there may be a change. I may
get a chance to play then, just as I did on the Stars. I'm willing to
wait. The Summer is long, and there'll be more than one game. Just say
nothing."
"Well, if you say so, I suppose I'll have to," answered his chum, "but
it's mighty hard to keep still when a fellow like Hiram Shell rubs your
nose in the dirt, and then kicks you in the bargain. He'll have to ask
me to play now. I won't volunteer!" and Tom shook his fist in the
direction of the manager. "Yes, he'll have to get down on his knees
and----"
"Precious little danger of that," remarked Joe with a laugh. He was
feeling more like himself now, though the memory of the bully's sneering
words rankled. They had cut deep.
"Guess there's no use catching any longer," resumed Tom after a pause.
"I don't exactly feel like it."
"Me either. I guess we've gotten over our touch of spring fever," and
Joe's voice was a bit despondent. Really, he cared more about what
Hiram had said than he liked to admit, even to himself. He had had high
hopes when he left the Riverside High School to come to Excelsior Hall
that he would at once become a member of the nine. His ambition, of
course, was to pitch, but he would have accepted any position--even out
in the field, for the sake of being on the school team. Now it seemed
that he was fated not even to be one of the substitutes.
"What are you fellows up to?" asked a voice suddenly, and the two chums
turned to behold Peaches and Teeter walking toward them.
"Oh, we were having a catch," replied Tom, "until we got called down for
it. It seems you have to have a permit at Excelsior to indulge in a
little private practice," he added sarcastically.
"What's up your back now?" asked Teeter.
"Yes, who's been rubbing your fur the wrong way?" Peaches wanted to
know. "What's riled Sister?"
"Who do you reckon would, if not Bully Shell?" asked Tom. "He's the
limit," and he rapidly told how Hiram had sneered at Joe's efforts, and
had said that he never would be on the team.
"Well, it's too bad, for Hiram has the inside track," admitted Teeter.
"I'm as sorry about it as you are, and so are a lot of the fellows. The
trouble is that the athletic committee is too big. There are a lot of
lads on it who don't care a rap for baseball or football, who don't even
play tennis, yet they have a vote, and it's their votes that keep Hiram
as manager, and Luke as captain."
"Can't it be changed?" Tom wanted to know. Joe was maintaining a
discrete silence, for he did not want to urge his own qualifications
as a pitcher. Tom was eager to fight for his chum.
"Well, it's been tried," spoke Peaches, "but Hiram has his own set with
him--a set that isn't the sporting element of Excelsior by a good lot,
and their votes keep him in. He spends his money freely and toadies to
them, and they fairly black his shoes. Luke Fodick, too, helps out. He
has his crowd and they're all with him. I tell you it's rotten, but what
are you going to do?"
"I know what I'm going to do if I stay here!" declared Tom.
"What?" demanded Peaches and Teeter eagerly.
"I'm not going to tell until I'm ready to spring it," said Tom, "and
when I do I think you'll see some fur fly. How soon before the school
team is picked?"
"Well, they ought to get at it pretty soon now," answered Teeter. "There
is a meeting of the athletic committee some time next week, and a
manager and captain will be elected. It's always done that way here,
though in some places they do it right at the close of the season. But
it has always been a cut-and-dried affair as long as Hiram has been
here. He got in--he and Luke--and they've stayed in ever since."
"Can we go to that athletic meeting?" asked Tom.
"Oh, yes," said Teeter quickly. "It's open to every lad in the school,
but lots don't take the trouble to go,--they know how it will turn out."
"Well, maybe there'll be a different turn to it this time," predicted
Tom.
"I'm afraid you've got another guess coming," was the retort of Peaches;
and then the four friends strolled toward the school buildings.
"What do you say to a scrub game?" asked Teeter.
"I'm willing!" said Joe eagerly; and so it was arranged.
The school diamond was not in very good shape, but two teams, of seven
lads on a side, gathered for the first impromptu baseball game of the
season the following afternoon. Tom, Joe, Peaches and Teeter tried to
get more out, but there were various excuses, and it might be noted that
aside from Teeter and Peaches not one of the former regular nine
appeared.
"I guess they're afraid Hiram will release them if they play with us,"
commented Tom.
"Maybe so," admitted Teeter. "George Bland would come only he had some
experimental work to finish. George isn't any more afraid of Hiram than
we are."
"Well, let's play ball," suggested Joe; and the game started. Joe
occupied the box for his side, an honor that came easily to him since
none of the others had had any experience as a twirler of the horsehide.
Our hero felt a little nervous as he took his place, for he knew he was
out of practice. Also he felt that he was being watched, not only by
his particular friends, but by others. And some of them might not be
friendly eyes--nay, some might be spying on behalf of Hiram Shell.
But Joe pulled himself well together, laughed at his idle fears, and
sent in a swift curve. It broke cleanly and completely fooled the
batter.
"Say, that's the way to get 'em over!" cried Teeter admiringly from
behind the bat as the ball landed in his mitt. "Do it some more!"
"I'll try," laughed Joe, and he repeated the trick.
The man was easily struck out, and the next at the bat fell for a like
fate, but the third found Joe's curve and swatted the ball for two bags.
"Oh, well, Joe just allowed that so you fellows wouldn't get discouraged,"
exclaimed Teeter as an excuse for his pitcher. "Get ready to slaughter
the next man, Joe."
And Joe did. He was delighted to find that his ability to curve the
ball, and send it swiftly in, had not deserted him during the long
winter of comparative inactivity. He knew that he could "come back with
the goods," and there was a feeling of hope welling up within him, that,
after all, there might come a chance for him to pitch on the Excelsior
nine.
The game went on, not regular, nor played according to the rules by any
means. But it was lots of fun, and some of the lads discovered their
weak points, while others found themselves doing better than they
expected. Joe's side won by a small margin, and just as the winning run
came in our hero was aware of a figure walking toward the bench on which
the side was sitting.
"Huh! Starting off rather early, ain't you?" demanded a voice, and
they turned to behold Luke Fodick. "Who said you fellows could use the
diamond, anyhow?"
"We didn't ask anybody," retorted Teeter with a snap.
"Well, you want to--after this," was the surly command. "I'm captain of
the nine and what I say goes. I'm not going to have the diamond all torn
up before the season opens, see! I'm captain!"
"Not yet," spoke Peaches quietly. "The election isn't until next week."
"What's that got to do with it? You ain't thinking of running opposition
to me; are you?"
"No," and a bright spot burned on the fair cheeks of the light-complexioned
lad.
"Because if you are you'll have a fight on your hands," threatened Luke.
"Who's been pitching?" he asked, his gaze roving over the crowd of lads.
"I was for our side," replied Joe quietly.
"Oh, you--yes I heard about you!" exclaimed Luke with a grating laugh.
"You're the fellow who wants to pitch on the nine; ain't you? Well, you
want to get that bee out of your bonnet, or you may get stung, see?
Hiram told me about you. Why, you are only an amateur. We want the best
here at Excelsior. By Jove, it's queer how tacky some of you high
school kids get as soon as you come to a real institution. Talk about
nerve, I----"
Joe fairly leaped from the bench. In another stride he confronted Luke.
"Look here!" cried our hero, anger getting the best of him for the time
being. "I've taken all of that kind of talk I'm going to either from you
or Bully Shell! Now you keep still or I'll make you. I'll give you the
best licking you ever had; and I'll do it right here and now if you say
another word about my pitching! I didn't come here to take any of your
sneers, and I don't intend to. Now you put that in your pipe, and smoke
it, and then close up and stay closed," and shaking his finger so close
to the astonished Luke that it hit the buttons on his coat, Joe turned
back and sat down.