HOW THE GOOD NEWS CAME.
Catalpa was wide awake, next day, although the weather was hotter than
ever and the little breeze that drew in from the prairie was laden
with heat. The unexpected result of yesterday's game had set everybody
to speculating on the issue of this day's contest. Some scandal was
created by the appearance of Hank Jackson on the street with a roll of
bills, offering to make bets on the game. It had never been the custom
of anybody in Catalpa to wager anything on a base ball game, and there
was some frowning now on the part of conservative and upright people;
and those who were not specially conservative, but who disapproved
of gaming, did not hesitate to reprove Hank in terms more forcible
than elegant. Hank had spent some days in Bloomington, where he had
frequented pool rooms and had acquired a taste for betting, and his
brief experience was regarded by the younger portion of Catalpa with
much awe and interest. He was followed about by the smaller boys of the
town who listened while he bantered some of his cronies into making
bets.
But public opinion in Catalpa was not yet educated to the point of
engaging in gambling on the uncertain result of a base ball game.
Added to this, it should be said, was Hank's persistence in offering
bets on the defeat of the home nine. That was an unpopular side.
Almost everybody wanted the Catalpas to win the game. It would decide
the championship; and, although it was almost too much to hope for,
there was a feeling of confidence through the town that was quite
inexplicable. So, Hank, after making a swaggering tour of the shops and
stores, but without receiving much popular countenance, quietly dropped
out of the throngs which gathered at the street corners and in other
public places. It was in vain that he argued with rude logic that it
was just as safe to bet on a base ball game as on a horse race. Very
few who listened to him cared to encourage this new sort of gambling.
This time, it was Al Heaton who fired the heart of Catalpa with the
first intelligence from the Diamond Field. It was nearly three o'clock
when his first despatch arrived, and the game had been called at two
o'clock. There was much grumbling in the main street of the town, where
numerous groups stood in the shade of awnings and tall buildings,
waiting for the news. The windows of _The Leaf_ office opened on this
street, as well as on the side street on which the telegraph office was
situated. Editor Downey had announced that he had made arrangements
with Albert to send news directly from the base ball grounds in
Galena, and that he would display a bulletin from his office windows.
Accordingly, when there was hung out a big white sheet of paper, with
black lettering thereon, the assembly below was hushed in expectation.
The despatch ran thus:
_Everybody confident. Larry Boyne says our nine will win the game.
Weather hot, and the dust intolerable. Look out for fun._
_ALBERT HEATON._
"What does he mean by looking out for fun; and who cares what Larry
Boyne thinks?" growled Hank Jackson. "I should think he might send us
something more bracing than that by this time."
But the straggling cheer that greeted Albert's encouraging message
drowned Jackson's grumbling, and the crowd showed by their excitement
that they were ready to accept the slightest omen as proof positive
that the Catalpa nine would carry the day. So, when Judge Howell's
carriage drove up and halted under the shade of the huge catalpa tree
that grew in front of Dr. Selby's drug store, from which the fair Alice
could see the throng and watch for the bulletin from the newspaper
office, there was a little hurrah from some of the younger lads. They
seemed to think that the young lady, in some fashion, represented the
absent Judge, who was now recognized as one of the steadfast friends of
the band of heroes.
"That's a good sign! I'll swear to gracious!" said Rough and Ready, in
a low and hoarse whisper, as he saw the Judge's handsome bays, champing
their bits, and prancing uneasily under the shade of the spreading
catalpa. "It's a good sign, for that gal never went back on the nine,
and her coming will bring good luck. Mark my words, Jake!" Jake, the
big butcher, nodded his head and only said "yaw," when the bulletin was
again flung out from the window of the printing-office.
The magical black letters were read in silence broken only by the
stamping of the horses tethered along the street and worried by the
flies. This is what the eager spectators read:
_First inning--Catalpas, 1; Galenas, 0._
"A big round goose egg!" screamed Lew Morris, with delight. Then he
raised a hurrah, and the small boys took up the yell. Horses jumped and
tore at their halters and vagrant dogs barked madly about the street.
Then there were smiles and even broad laughter among the devoted
supporters of the home nine. Almost everybody looked pleased, and Dr.
Selby, with the easy confidence of an old friend, went to the side
of the Judge's carriage and shook hands heartily with Miss Alice who
was waving her parasol with a vague notion that it was necessary to
celebrate the auspicious opening of the game.
"I didn't tell you, did I, doctor, that I dreamed, last night, that we
had won the game? Well, I did. Aunt Anstress says that dreams go by
contraries and that that means our nine will be defeated. But I don't
believe that; do you, doctor?"
"Well, I don't believe in dreams, anyhow, Miss Alice, and so I hardly
think that that counts. But we will keep on thinking that the boys will
beat, to-day, and even if we are disappointed, we have yet one more
chance."
The doctor, accepting Alice's invitation, took a seat in the carriage
from which advantageous point he looked over the gathering throng, now
reinforced by arrivals from the region roundabout the town, for the
news had gone forth that despatches were coming in from Al Heaton, and
every man, woman and child who had the least interest in the game (and
these were many) and could leave the labors and duties of the day, was
there to hear.
"It looks as it did in the war, when the news from Shiloh and Vicksburg
was coming in; doesn't it, doctor?"
"I don't know about that, Alice. I was in the war, myself, you know;
was at Port Hudson and Vicksburg. You were a baby then, and I believe
your father was in Congress. Yes, I guess it does look like war times.
But see! There comes another bulletin!"
Editor Downey had rigorously excluded from his office all outsiders,
and was devoting his personal attention to the all-important business
of the day. With his own hands, he hung out the paper sheet bearing
these words:
_2d inning,--Catalpas, 0; Galenas, 1; 3d inning, Catalpas, 0;
Galenas, 0._
"Not so good as it might be," remarked Dr. Selby, cheerfully, "but it
will grow better, by and by."
A little cloud passed over the face of Alice, and she bit her lip with
vexation as Hank Jackson bawled with a rough voice, "Ten to five on the
Galenas!"
"If I were a man, I'd like to take that offer," she said, her eyes
sparkling.
"Oh, no, you wouldn't, Alice," cried her friend Ida. "You wouldn't
encourage gambling on base ball, I'm sure."
"Perhaps not; but if I were a man, I would like to thrash that big
ruffian."
Better news came, after a little while. The bulletin for the fourth
inning showed four for the Catalpas and a big round "0" for their
opponents. At this, there was a general and apparently concerted hurrah
from the company in the street below. Editor Downey, as if thinking the
cheer a personal compliment, put his frowsy head out of the window and
bowed with as much grace as was possible under the circumstances.
"Mr. Downey's hair looks as if he was laboring under great excitement,"
said the apothecary, blandly smiling at the editor's somewhat towseled
appearance. "Every individual hair is standing on end, as if he were
charged with electricity."
Alice laughed joyously and seemed glad to find something under which
she could cover her great elation at the good news from the North. Miss
Ida uttered sarcastic remarks about the editor's exuberant comments in
the morning paper regarding the coming contest in Galena. She declared
that she did not think the game nearly as important as any one of the
decisive battles of the war. And she was sure that _The Leaf_ would
be perfectly ridiculous, next day, if the Catalpas were to win the
championship. Her remarks were cut short by the display of another
bulletin announcing the result of the fifth inning in these terms:--
_Hurrah for our nine! Fifth inning--Catalpas, 0; Galenas, 0._
"What in thunder does that mean?" asked Lew Morris, angrily. "Why does
the numbskull tell us to hurrah for our nine when both sides have a
zero?"
A yell of derision went up from the crowd, and the editor, hearing
groans and cat-calls in the street below, put out his head and, with
much trepidation, cried, "It was a mistake. I forgot to put on the
sixth inning. Catalpas, one; Galenas, nix!"
A loud laugh greeted this sally, and the crowd good-humoredly proposed
three cheers for _The Catalpa Leaf_, which were given in a random
fashion, mingled with laughter. Mr. Downey, now well-smeared with ink,
and perspiring with excitement, acknowledged the salute with gravity.
"Six innings played and the Catalpas are six to the Galena's one!"
exclaimed Alice, who was keeping the score with an assiduity that
seemed to come from a belief that exactness in the figures would,
somehow, affect the final result. Scraps of paper, on which observers
had marked the score and had set down their prognostications of the
innings yet to come, were circulated through the crowd. The Catalpas
now had the lead, and it would be difficult for their adversaries to
come up with them.
Lew Morris, leaning on the door of the carriage, chatted with Alice,
drawing on his vivid imagination for pictures of the nine as they
were probably looking now, away up there in Galena. He could see, he
thought, Hiram Porter devouring the ground as he made his bases with
a giant's stride, his handsome face glowing with mingled heat and
determination. He could even hear Larry's voice, in a stage whisper,
crying, "Go it, Hiram!" And he could see Larry, at third base, when the
Catalpas were in the field, making one of those superb running catches
of his, Ben Burton looking on, "as if he would eat him up," added
Lewis, jocularly.
"Why should Ben want to eat Larry up?" asked Dr. Selby, innocently.
"Does he love him so?"
"On the contrary, quite the reverse," laughed Lewis. "Larry is showing
himself to be the best player in the nine, and as Ben thought that
_he_ was the best, and is finding out that he is not, he loves Larry
accordingly. Besides that, he is jealous of Larry for other reasons,"
and the young man fixed a bold look on the blushing face of Miss Alice.
She turned away to see if another bulletin were not ready, and the
doctor shook his head deprecatingly at Lewis.
There was much time for talk, however, before another despatch from the
seat of war appeared. The impatient crowd, panting in the heat that
was more and more oppressive as the sun approached the west, flung all
sorts of appeals upwards to the windows of the office of _The Leaf_.
There was no response, although Mr. Downey, as if to contradict Hank
Jackson's loud jeer that the editor had gone to sleep, showed his
shaggy head at the window and made a negative motion with the same.
There was no news.
Finally, just as some of the less patient were beginning to make their
way homewards, like a banner of victory, the sheet of paper again
appeared. This time, it was blazoned with these returns:--
_7th inning--Catalpas, 1; Galenas, 0; 8th inning--Catalpas, 0;
Galenas, 1._
"An even thing for the two innings!" cried Lew Morris triumphantly.
"The Galenas cannot possibly pull up in the last inning! The game is
ours! The game is ours!"
Lew's jubilant shout was taken up by the crowd, which now grew denser
again, and the excitement mounted to fever heat as the sun sank behind
the cotton-woods below the town. Satisfied that the game and the
championship were virtually won, some of the elder citizens, after
exchanging congratulations with everybody that had a word of joy on
their lips, walked homewards. But some of them stopped on the road and
turned a listening ear towards the main street to hear the rousing
cheer that soon went up, telling the town and all the Stone River
Valley that the game was won and that our nine had captured the pennant
of Northern Illinois.
A grimy and inky young imp, on the roof of _The Leaf_ building, hoisted
a particularly inky and grimy flag as the editor hung out from his
window this bulletin:--
_The victory is complete! Old Catalpa to the front! Glory enough for
one day! Following is the score by innings:_
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 _total._
Catalpas 1 0 0 4 0 1 1 0 1 8.
Galenas 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 1 1 3.
_The Galenas will banquet the Catalpas at the Quapaw House, this
evening, when a right royal time is expected._
_ALBERT HEATON._
"And now for the championship of the State, dad?" shouted Tom Selby,
exultingly, as his father descended from the carriage of the Judge.
Alice, who was beaming with delight, could hardly speak her joy. The
great contest was over, and the home nine would come back covered
with glory. But she shook her head at Tom's vain-glorious remark. The
league games were all made up for the season, she knew, and it would be
difficult, if not impossible, to secure a challenge from any club in
the league. Oh, no, she couldn't think of it. Tom must not think of it,
at least, not until another summer.
The good doctor smiled at the lad's enthusiasm and said that glory
enough for one day meant glory enough for one season. There were other
contests before the home nine, and they could be content, or they
should be, to wear the laurels already won, whatever happened to them
hereafter. They could not lose any prestige by any manner of means.
When Judge Howell arrived by the early evening train from Pawpaw, he
was surprised to see the dingy flag of _The Catalpa Leaf_ drooping
lazily from its staff. He had not forgotten that the second game in the
Northern District Championship was to have been played that afternoon;
and he remembered his daughter's prediction of success. But it seemed
incredible that this should have actually come to pass. As he alighted
from the train, his judicial dignity a little soiled by travel and
perspiration, he was met by Rough and Ready, who, with a slight touch
of his 'coonskin cap, the only recognition of high station of which
he was ever capable, said, "Any baggage, Jedge? carry it as cheap as
anybody. Our nine has flaxed out the Galenas--eight to three! Big
thing, Jedge! Lemme take that grip-sack. Great day for old Catalpa,
Jedge. Your darter, she said as how she allowed that you mought like to
get the news straight, so I told her I'd come up and tell you quick.
Thank you, Jedge." And, dropping a silver quarter into his pocket,
Rough and Ready turned and collared a stranger from whom he wrested his
valise and marched triumphantly down into the town.
When the Judge, clothed once more in the dignity of cleanliness and his
home headship, heard that night from the animated lips of his daughter
the story of the winning of the championship, he said, with an air of
graceful condescension, "It was a famous victory, Alice. We have reason
to be proud of our nine; and I will venture to say that when we get
the full particulars of the game, we shall find that that fine-looking
young fellow, Lawrence Boyne, contributed the largest share to the
triumph."
When the details of the game were brought to Catalpa, next day, in a
letter to _The Leaf_, it was found that the Judge knew just what he was
talking about.
But greater news than this came with Larry Boyne and Hiram Porter, a
week or two later. The nine had been playing a few games along the
river towns and had rested for a day or two in Rock Island, after
playing the Dacotahs of that city. Several of the nine took advantage
of a lull in their engagements to visit Catalpa. Mr. Heaton and Albert
had returned home, and Larry and Hiram had gone to Chicago on some
mysterious errand, nobody knew just what. Neddie Ellis was one of those
who had come back to Catalpa while the time was passing before they
should play the new series of games beginning with the Moline club.
Neddie looked very wise when asked where Larry and Hiram had gone, and
Albert Heaton assumed a most important air whenever he said anything
about the doings of the two absent members of the nine.
But it all came out in due time. Captain Porter and his trusty
lieutenant arrived by the noon train, and before the sun had set
everybody in Catalpa knew that a match had been arranged between the
Catalpa nine and the Calumet club for the State Championship. It was
indeed wonderful news, and nothing since the war had happened to stir
the population of that region as the intelligence. There were divers
opinions regarding this unexpected development. Many thought that
it was indiscreet for so young and green a club as the Catalpas to
challenge the Calumets--the famous and renowned Calumets. Then there
were others who thought that it was presumptuous for the Catalpa boys
even so much as to ask any leading club to play them merely because a
triumph had been unexpectedly achieved in Galena. But all agreed that
it was a great feather in the cap of "our nine" that the Chicago club
should have accepted the challenge, or should have agreed to meet them
on any terms whatever.
"I am not certain whether I am glad or sorry that our nine will play
the Calumets, papa," said Alice Howell. "I mean that I cannot tell yet
whether I shall be disappointed if they lose. I depend a great deal on
my impressions, you know, and I haven't any as yet."
The Judge smiled at his daughter's odd notion of waiting for
impressions, and replied, "I do not wait for any inspiration on the
subject, my child. I am sure that the Catalpa nine will be badly
beaten. I don't know much about base ball, but I do know enough to know
that the Calumet club has been in the newspapers for a long time as the
great base ball club of the northwest."
"That's so, papa," sighed Alice, "and I have dreadful forebodings when
I think of the risk that they have undertaken."
"Nothing venture, nothing have, Alice, and it will be no disgrace if
our nine are defeated by the Calumets. Unless they are very badly
beaten indeed, and that is not improbable, to be sure, they will bring
some new honors off the field."
The Judge's conservative and moderate view of the case was that of the
average of Catalpa. To play the Calumets was in itself an honor.
Henry Jackson represented the most discouraging element in Catalpa
public opinion. And when Ben Burton returned to town for a day's
holiday, and became at once unusually familiar with Hank, Larry's
face clouded and Alice Howell confidentially informed her friend Ida
Boardman that she never could abide Ben Burton, and that now she knew
he was a man who would consort with mean companions. Nothing could be
lower, she thought, than the course that Henry Jackson had taken during
the late contest between the Catalpas and the Galenas.
It was only by a lucky accident that the Calumets had been able to
find a place in their later engagements for a championship series
of three games with the Catalpas. The sudden sickness of several
members of the Osceola club, engaged to play the Calumets, had made
it necessary to cancel all the engagements of the former club for
the season. The Osceolas had been overtaken by a contagious disease
that had made sad havoc that summer, as many will remember, among
strangers who visited the lower portion of the State, which had been
under water from late in February until the beginning of May. But the
ill-luck of the Osceola club was the means of opening a way for the
Catalpas to play the Calumets; and that was felt to be something almost
providential--at least, in the town of Catalpa.