AFTER THE VICTORY.
"The boss says he would be obliged to you if you would make less noise."
It was a tall and red-faced young man who brought this message to
the Catalpa Nine, as they were gathered in the room of Captain Hiram
Porter, in their lodging-house, after the great match game. Al Heaton
had hurried to join the boys, as soon as he had sent to Catalpa his
despatch announcing the result of the contest in the most glowing terms
consistent with the rate of telegraph tolls and the needed conciseness
of a despatch. All hands were in that flow of animal spirits that
might have been expected from nearly a dozen young fellows who are
elated over a great victory and who have laboriously repressed their
jubilation until they are alone.
"There! I told you, boys, that your skylarking would bring up the
landlord. Oh, I say, Neddie, quit your fooling. You can't throw 'The
Lily,' if you try all night; and we are making such a racket that the
whole house is disturbed." This was Captain Porter's admonition.
"Besides," said Larry Boyne, who was panting with the unwonted exertion
of boosting Charlie King over the headboard of the bedstead, where
Charlie was determined he would not go, "besides all that, it's time
for you and me, Hi, to get ready to go out to dinner."
"Where are you two fellows going to dinner?" demanded half a dozen
voices at once. "Are you going to throw off on us in that way?"
Captain Hiram explained that he and Larry had accepted an invitation to
take dinner with Judge Morris, with whose family Mr. Heaton and Albert
were staying during the progress of the games in Chicago. The Morrises,
he added, lived on the north side of the river, and he and Larry should
be ready to start, instead of "cutting up" to show how tickled they
were with their recent victory.
"But 'twas a famous victory," quoted Larry, "for all that, and I would
just as soon stay with the boys and celebrate it as go out to dine with
Judge Morris, who, they say, is a heavy swell."
"I happen to know that Miss Alice Howell and her friend Miss Ida are
stopping with the Morrises, Larry," said Ben Burton, with an unpleasant
leer, "and you and Hiram will be in clover; so you can afford to shake
us until the next game."
Larry grew very red in the face at this, and there was a dangerous
gleam in Hiram Porter's eye as he noted the ill-natured scowl on
Burton's countenance. He restrained himself, however, and said, "Why
do you continually harp on the Judge's daughter, Ben? The young lady
is from our own town, and she is more interested in the success of the
Catalpas than some of its members, I reckon; at least, I think so,
judging from appearances."
"What do you mean by that, Hi Porter?" demanded Ben, hotly. "You have
insinuated that sort of thing too many times in my hearing. And I want
you to understand that you can't put on any captain's airs over me, now
that we are off the field. I am my own master for to-night anyway."
"Come, come, boys," interposed Larry, soothingly. "Don't let us mar
the enjoyment of this evening by lugging in any old quarrels or little
differences. We shall all have to pull together to-morrow, if we are to
beat the Calumets. They are going to give us a stiff brush, and you may
depend on that. Come, Hiram, let's be off."
Burton said something, sullenly and indistinctly, about the certainty
of the defeat of the Catalpas, to-morrow, which caught the ear of "The
Lily," who, still puffing with the effects of his tussle with Neddie
Ellis, was regarding the malcontent Ben with an expression of wonder on
his good-natured face. He slowly dropped out a few words of comment, in
his usual fashion, upon Burton's unfriendly attitude and then added:
"I say, I wonder why you don't give up playing base ball, since you
find so little fun in it. 'Pears to me you are all the time out 'o
sorts--like. You don't enjoy good health, Ben, and that's what is the
matter along of you. Now, why do you think that the Calumets are going
to get away with us, to-morrow?"
But before Ben could form a reply and cover the confusion that crept
over his face, Neddie Ellis, who was the universal favorite of the
club, broke in with, "Oh, I say, boys, do you know what these Chicago
people call us? why they call us 'The Cats.' That's short for Catalpas,
I suppose. We ought to call the Calumets 'The Cads,' and I guess that
would be getting even."
Under cover of the laugh which this sally raised, Hiram, Larry, and
young Heaton departed to fulfil their engagement on the north side, Ben
Burton looking after them with a darkened countenance.
"Ben is angry because he is not invited to Judge Morris's," said Larry,
as the three young fellows stepped lightly off in search of a street
car. "He has a jealous temper, and the least thing that looks like a
slight sets him off."
"Well," said Albert, "Alice said that the Judge would have liked to
have invited the whole nine, if he had had room to entertain them
properly; but he hadn't, and so he invited only those with whom the
governor was most acquainted."
"To say nothing of Miss Alice?" added Hiram, slyly.
Albert admitted that Miss Alice's wishes were consulted in the matter,
and that it was only natural that she, being a visitor, should indicate
her preferences in the matter.
"What does it signify, anyhow?" said Larry, a little impatiently.
"It seems to me that Ben Burton is ready to fly out at the least
provocation. I almost wish we had never thought of going over to Judge
Morris's. I am sure I have tried my level best to keep the peace with
Ben, but he seems to grow more and more cantankerous every day. To
think of raising a breeze over such a trifle as this of our going out
to dinner without him! It makes me ashamed of my companionship with
him."
The conversation was stopped by their entering a street car where
they were entertained by the audible comments of the passengers on
the wonderful game that had been played that afternoon. Base ball in
Chicago is one of the favorite pastimes of the people. But there was
so much of the element of unexpectedness in the result of that day's
game that it set the tongues of everybody to wagging. Unknown and in
silence, the champions of the Catalpa Nine heard themselves and their
playing discussed with great freedom and animation. The general verdict
was that "The Cats" would, next day, receive their reward in the shape
of a "basket of goose eggs" with which they would depart for home,
sadder and wiser for their visit.
"What do you think of that for an opinion, Larry?" asked Hiram,
laughingly, as they alighted from the car, one block from their
destination. "What do you think of the woman in the corner who said
that the Calumets were only encouraging us on to our defeat?"
Larry replied that that was precisely what Ben Burton thought, and
Hiram ejaculated, "Oh, he does, does he? Then it seems that our short
stop and our adversaries, or the friends of our adversaries, agree as
to what is going to happen to-morrow."
"Perhaps they are right," said Albert, cheerily. "But here we are," and
stopping before a handsome house, he darted up the steps and rang the
door bell.
While the lads waited for admission, Larry turned and looked westward,
with wistful eyes, and said,
"I wonder how they are taking the news in Catalpa, about now?"
Albert's reply that they were probably having a jollification really
described what was at that moment taking place. Tom Selby was the happy
recipient of early telegrams from Larry, and the editor of _The Leaf_
sustained his reputation by putting out bulletins from Al Heaton and
his father, at frequent intervals during the progress of the game. The
excitement waxed high as the contest proceeded, and when the final
result was reached, the town was fairly mad with joy. The event had
eclipsed everything of the kind that had happened during the season.
Every man who had a flag hung it out to the breeze. Jedediah Van Orman,
"The Lily's" father, took up a collection from the willing shopkeepers
and bought a supply of powder, with which he proceeded to fire a
salute from four anvils, the only artillery then accessible in the
town. Victory brooded over Catalpa, and in every house as the red sun
went down, that night, there was but one theme of conversation--base
ball.