XXVIII

Of the Lakerimmers who tried for the baseball team, four men were

elevated to the glory of positions on the regular nine.

Sleepy had somehow proved that left-field was safer when he was

seeming to take a nap there than it was under the guard of any of the

more restless players.

Tug was a second baseman, whose cool head made him a good man at that

pivot of the field; he was an able assistant to the right-field, a

ready back-stop to the short-stop, and a perfect spider for taking

into his web all the wild throws that came slashing from the home

plate to cut off those who dared to try to steal his base.

Sawed-Off was the nearest of all the Kingstonians to resembling a

telegraph-pole, so he had no real competitors for first base. He

declined to play, however, unless Jumbo were given the position of

short-stop; and Jumbo soon proved that he had some other rights to the

position besides a powerful pull.

Reddy and Heady had worked like beavers to be accepted as the battery,

but the pitcher and catcher of the year before were so satisfactory

that the Twins could get no nearer to their ambitions than the

substitute-list, and there it seemed they were pretty sure to remain

upon the shelf, in spite of all the practice they had kept up, even

through the winter.

The Kingston ball-team had found its only rival to the championship of

the Interscholastic League in the nine from the Charleston Preparatory

School. The Kingstonians all plucked up hope, however, when they found

themselves at the end of the season one game ahead of Charleston; or,

at least, they called it one game ahead, for Charleston had played off

its schedule, and Kingston had only one more nine to defeat, and that

was the Brownsville School for Boys, the poorest team in the whole

League, a pack of good-for-nothings with butter on their fingers and

holes in their bats. So Kingston counted the pennant as good as won.

Down the team went to Brownsville, then, just to see how big a score

they could roll up. Back they came from Brownsville so dazed they

almost rode past the Kingston station. For when they had reached the

ballground, one of those curious moods that attacks a team as it

attacks a single person seized them and took away the whole knack that

had won them so many games. The Brownsvillers, on the other hand,

seemed to have been inspired by something in the air. They simply

could not muff the ball or strike out. They found and pounded the

curves of the Kingston pitcher so badly that the substitute battery

would have been put in had they not been left behind because it was

not thought worth while to pay their fare down to Brownsville.

The upshot of the horrible afternoon was that Brownsville sent

Kingston home with its feelings bruised black and blue, and its record

done up in cotton. It was a good thing that Kingston had prepared no

bonfire for the victory they had thought would be so easy, because if

the defeated nine had been met with such a mockery they would surely

have perished of mortification.

The loss of this game--think of it, the score was 14 to 2!--tied the

Kingstonians with the Charlestonians, and another game was necessary

to decide the contest for the pennant. That game was immediately

arranged for commencement week on the Kingston grounds.

And now the Twins, who had resigned themselves to having never a

chance on the nine, found themselves suddenly called upon to pitch and

catch in _the_ game of the year; for the drubbing the regular pitcher

had received had destroyed the confidence of the team in his ability

to pitch a second time successfully against the Charlestonians.

To make matters worse, the game was to come almost in the very midst

of the final examinations of the year, and the Twins became so mixed

up in their efforts to cram into their heads all the knowledge in the

world, and to pull out of their fingers all of the curves known to

science, that one day Reddy said to Heady:

"I half believe that when I get up for oral examination I'll be so

rattled that, instead of answering the question, I'll try to throw the

ink-bottle on an upshoot at the professor's head."

And Heady answered, even more glumly:

"I wouldn't mind that so much; what I'm afraid of is that when you

really need to use that out-curve you'll throw only a few dates at the

batter. I will signal for an out-curve, and you'll stand in the box

and tie yourself in a bow-knot, and throw at me something about

Columbus discovering America in 1776; or you'll reel off some problem

about plastering the inside of a room, leaving room for four doors and

six windows."

When the day of the game arrived, however, Reddy and Heady took their

positions with the proud satisfaction of knowing that they had passed

all their school-book examinations. Now they wondered what percentage

they would make in their baseball examination.

Sleepy, however, went out to left-field not knowing where he stood.

He knew so little about his books, indeed, that even after the

examination was over he could tell none of the fellows what answers he

had made to what questions, and so they could not tell him whether or

no he had failed ignominiously or passed accidentally. This worry,

however, sat very lightly on Sleepy's nerves.

The largest crowd of the year was gathered to witness the greatest

game of the year, and Charleston and Kingston were tuned up to the

highest pitch they could reach without breaking. The day was perfect,

and in the preliminary practice the Kingstonians showed that they were

determined to wipe out the disgrace of the Brownsville game, or at

least to cover it up with the scalps of the Charlestonians.

At length the Charlestonians were called in by their captain, for they

were first at bat. The Kingstonians dispread themselves over the field

in their various positions. The umpire tossed to the nervous Reddy

what seemed to be a snowball, whose whiteness he immediately covered

with dust from the box. The Charlestonian batter came to the plate and

tapped it smartly three or four times. The umpire sang out:

"Play-ball!"

Reddy cast a nervous look around the field, then went into a spasm

in which he seemed to be trying to "skin the cat" on an invisible

turning-pole. Out of the mix-up he suddenly straightened himself. The

first baseman saw a dusty white cannon-ball shoot past him, and heard

the umpire's dulcet voice growl:

"Strike!"

Which pleased the Kingston audience so mightily that they broke forth

into cheers and applause that upset Reddy so completely that the next

ball slipped from his hand and came toward the first baseman so gently

that he could hardly have missed it had he tried.

The Kingstonian cheer disappeared in a groan as everybody heard that

unmistakable whack that resounds whenever the bat and the ball meet

face to face. But the very sureness of the hit was its ruination, for

it went soaring like a carrier-pigeon straight home to the hands of

Sleepy, who, without moving from his place, reached up and took it in.

The Kingston groan was now changed back again to a cheer, and the

first batter of the first half of the first inning had scored the

first "out."

The Charleston third baseman now came to the bat. Three times in

succession Reddy failed to get the ball over the plate, and the man

evidently had made up his mind that he was to get his base on balls,

for at the fourth pitch he dropped his bat and started for first base,

only to be called back by the umpire's voice declaring a strike. To

his immense disgust, two other strikes followed it, and he went to the

bench instead of to the base.

The third Charlestonian caught the first ball pitched by Reddy, and

sent it bounding toward Jumbo, who ripped it off the ground and had

it in the hands of his chum Sawed-Off before the Charlestonian was

half-way to first base.

This retired the side, and the Kingstonians came in to bat amid a

pleasant April shower of applause.

Sawed-Off was the first Kingston man to take a club to the

Charlestonians. He waved his bat violently up and down, and stared

fiercely at the Charleston pitcher. His ferocity disappeared, however,

when he saw the ball coming at a frightful speed straight at him, and

threatening to take a large scoop out of his stomach. He stretched up

and back and away from it with a ridiculous wiggle, that was the more

ridiculous when he saw the ball curve harmlessly over the plate and

heard the umpire cry:

"Strike--one!"

He upbraided himself for his fear, and when the next ball was pitched,

though he felt sure that it was going to strike him on the shoulder,

he did not budge. But here he made mistake number two; for the ball

did not curve as the pitcher had intended, but gave the batter a sharp

nip just where it said it would. The only apology the pitcher made was

the rueful look with which he watched Sawed-Off going down to first

base.

The Kingston center-fielder was the next at the bat, and he sent a

little Roman candle of a fly that fell cozily into the third baseman's

hands.

Jumbo now came to the plate, and swinged at the ball so violently that

one might have thought he was trying to lift Sawed-Off bodily from

first base to second. But he managed only to send a slow coach of a

liner, that raced him to first base and beat him there. Sawed-Off,

however, had managed to make second before the Charleston first

baseman could throw him out, and there he pined away, for the Kingston

third baseman struck out, possibly in compliment to the Charleston

third baseman, who had done the same thing.

This complimentary spirit seemed to fill the short-stop also, for he

sent down to his rival Jumbo a considerately easy little fly, which

stuck to Jumbo's palms as firmly as if there had been fly-paper on

them.

The Charleston catcher now found Reddy for a clean base-hit between

left and center field. He tried to stretch it into a two-base hit, and

the Kingston center fielded the ball in so slowly that he succeeded in

his grasping attempt.

The Charlestonian second baseman made a sacrifice hit that advanced

the catcher to third. And now the pitcher came to the bat, eager to

bring home the wretch at whom he had hurled his swiftest curves. His

anxiety led him into making two foolish jabs at curves that were out

of his reach, and finally he caught one just on the tip of his bat,

and it went neatly into Tug's hand, leaving the catcher to perish on

third base.

Sleepy now came to the bat for Kingston, and, without making any

undue exertion, deftly placed a fly between the short-stop and the

left-fielder, and reached first base on a canter. He made no rash

attempts to steal second, but waited to be assisted there. The

Kingston right-fielder, however, struck out and made way for Reddy.

Reddy, though a pitcher, was, like most pitchers, unable to solve the

mystery of a rival's curves for more than a little grounder, that lost

him first base, and forced Sleepy to a most uncomfortable exertion to

keep from being headed off at second.

Tug now came to the bat; but, unfortunately, while the hit he knocked

was a sturdy one, it went toward third base, and Sleepy did not dare

venture off second, though he made a feint at third which engaged the

baseman's attention until Tug reached first.

Heady now came to the bat, and some of the Charlestonians insisted

that he had batted before; but they were soon convinced of their error

when the Twins were placed side by side.

Heady puzzled them even more, however, by scratching off just such

another measly bunt as his brother had failed with, and when he was

put out at first Sleepy and Tug realized that their running had been

in vain. Sleepy thought of the terrific inconvenience the struggle for

the three bases had caused him, and was almost sorry that he had not

struck out in the first place.

The Charleston right-fielder opened the third inning with a graceful

fly just this side the right-fielder's reach, in that field where

base-hits seem to grow most plentifully. The Kingston center-fielder

was presented with a base on balls, which forced the right-fielder to

second base. Now Reddy recovered sufficiently to strike out the next

Charleston batter, though the one after him sent into right field a

long, low fly, which the Kingston right-fielder caught on the first

bound, and hurled furiously to third base to head off the Charleston

runner. The throw was wild, and a sickening sensation went through the

hearts of all as they saw it hurtle past the third baseman.

The Charleston runner rejoiced, and giving the bag a mere touch with

his foot, started gaily for home. A warning cry from his coach,

however, checked him in full speed, and he whirled about to see that

Sleepy, foreseeing the throw from right-field as soon as the ball left

the bat, had sauntered over behind the third baseman, had stopped the

wild throw, and now stood waiting for the base-runner to declare his

intention before he threw the ball. The Charlestonian made a quick

dash to get back to third; but Sleepy had the ball in the third

baseman's hands before him.

Now the third baseman saw that the second Kingston runner had also

been wavering uncertainly between second and third, ready to reach

third if Sleepy threw for home, and to return to second if he threw

to third. The third baseman started toward the runner, making many

pretenses of throwing the ball, and keeping the poor base-runner on

such a razor-edge of uncertainty that he actually allowed himself to

be touched out with barely a wriggle. This double play retired the

side. It was credited to the third baseman; but the real glory

belonged to Sleepy, and the crowd gave him the applause.

Once more Sawed-Off towered at the bat. He was willing to take another

bruise if he could be assured of getting to first base; but the

pitcher was so wary of striking him this time that he gave him his

base on balls, and Sawed-Off lifted his hat to him in gratitude for

this second gift.

The center-fielder knocked a fly into the hands of the first baseman,

who stood on the bag. Sawed-Off barely escaped falling victim to a

double play by beating the fly to first.

Again Jumbo labored mightily to advance Sawed-Off, and did indeed

get him to second on a well-situated base-hit. The next Kingstonian,

however, the third baseman, knocked to the second baseman a bee-liner

that was so straight and hot that the second baseman could neither

have dodged nor missed it had he tried; so he just held on to it, and

set his foot on the bag, and caught Sawed-Off before he could get back

to the base.

The fourth inning was opened by a Charlestonian, who sent a singing

fly right over Sawed-Off's head. He seemed to double his length like

a jack-knife. When he shut up again, however, the ball was not in his

hand, but down in the right-field. It was a master stroke, but, worth

only one base to Charleston.

The second man at the bat fell prey to Reddy's bewildering curves, and

Reddy heard again that sweetest sound a pitcher can hear, the umpire's

voice crying:

"Striker--out!"

The Charlestonian who had lined out the beautiful base-hit proved

himself the possessor of a pair of heels as good as his pair of eyes,

and just as Reddy had declared by his motions such a readiness to

pitch the ball that he could not have changed his mind without being

declared guilty of a balk--just at that instant the Charlestonian

dashed madly for second base. Heady snatched off his mask and threw

the ball to second with all the speed and correctness he was master

of; but the throw went just so far to the right that Tug, leaning far

out, could not recover himself in time to touch the runner.

[Illustration: "'STRIKER--OUT!'"]

These two now began to play a game of hide-and-seek about second base,

much to Reddy's discomfort. There is nothing so annoying to a pitcher

as the presence of a courageous and speedy base-runner on the second

base; for the pitcher has always the threefold terror that in whirling

suddenly he may be found guilty of balking, or in facing about quickly

he may make a wild throw; and yet if he does not keep a sharp eye in

the back of his head, the base-runner can play off far enough to stand

a good chance of stealing third safely.

Reddy engaged in this three-cornered duel so ardently that before he

knew it he had given the man at the bat a base on balls. This added to

his confusion, and seeing at the bat the Charleston catcher who had in

the second inning knocked out a perfect base-hit and made two bases

on it, Reddy left the wily fox at second base to his own devices, and

paid no heed to Tug's efforts to beat the man back to second. Suddenly

the fellow made a dart for third; though Heady's throw was straight

and swift, the fellow dived for the base, and slid into safety under

the ball. In the shadow of this dash the other Charleston base-runner

took second base without protest.

The Charleston catcher was evidently determined to bring in at least

one run, or die trying. He smashed at every ball that Reddy pitched.

He only succeeded, however, in making a number of fouls. But Reddy

shuddered for the score when he realized how well the Charleston

catcher was studying his best curves. Suddenly the man struck up a

sky-scraping foul. Everybody yelled at once: "Over your head!"

And Heady, ripping away his mask again, whirled round and round,

trying to find the little globule in the dazzling sky. He gimleted all

over the space back of the plate before he finally made out the ball

coming to earth many feet in front of him. He made a desperate lunge

for it and caught it. And Reddy's groan of relief could be heard clear

from the pitcher's box.

The Charleston catcher, in a great huff, threw his bat to the ground

with such violence that it broke, and he gave way to the second

baseman, who had made a sacrifice hit in the second inning--which

advanced the catcher one base. The man realized, however, that a

sacrifice in this inning, with two men already out, would not be so

advantageous as before. He made an heroic attempt, resulting in a

clean drive that hummed past Reddy like a Mauser bullet, and chose a

path exactly between Jumbo and Tug. It was evident that no Kingston

man could stop it in time to throw either to first base or home ahead

of a Charleston man; but since Kingston could not put the side out

before a run was scored, the Charlestonians cheerfully consented to

put themselves out; that is, the base-runner on second, making a

furious dash for third, ran ker-plunk into the ball, which recorded

itself on his funny-bone.

When he fell to the ground yelping with torment, I am afraid that

the Kingstonians showed little of the Good Samaritan spirit, for the

ball-nine and the Kingston sympathizers in the crowd indulged in

a jubilation such as a Roman throng gave vent to when a favorite

gladiator had floored some new savage.

The Kingston men came in from the field arm in arm, but it was not

long before they were once more sauntering out into the field, for not

one of them reached first base.

A game without runs is not usually half so interesting to the crowd as

one in which there is free batting and a generous sprinkling of runs.

The average spectator is not sport enough to feel sorry for the

pitcher when a home run has been knocked over the fence, or to feel

sorry for a fielder who lets a ball through his fingers and sends the

base-runners on their way rejoicing. To your thorough sport, though,

a scientific, well-balanced game is the most interesting. He likes to

see runs earned, if scored at all, and has sympathy but no interest

for a pitcher who permits himself to be knocked out of the box.

A more nicely balanced game than this between Kingston and Charleston

could hardly be imagined, and there was something in the air or in

the game that made the young teams play like veterans. Each worked

together like a clock of nine cog-wheels.

Though the next four innings were altogether different from one

another in batting and fielding, they were exactly alike in that they

were all totaled at the bottom of the column, with a large blank

goose-egg.

At the opening of the ninth inning even the uncultured members of the

crowd--those unscientific ingoramuses that had voted the game a dull

one because no one had made the circuit of the bases--even these sat

up and breathed fast, and wondered what was going to happen. They had

not drawn many breaths before the Kingston catcher rapped on the plate

and threw back his bat to knock the stuffing out of any ball that

Reddy might hurl at him; and, indeed, his intentions were nearly

realized, for the very first throw that Reddy made hit the bull's-eye

on the Charleston bat, and then leaped away with a thwack.

Reddy leaped for it first, but it went far from his fingers.

Next after him Tug went up into the air and fell back beautifully.

And after him--just as if they had been jumping-jacks--the

center-fielder bounded high and clutched at the ball, but past his

finger-tips, too, it went, and he turned ignominiously after it. If he

was running the Charlestonian was flying. He shot across first base,

and on, just grazing second base--unseen by Tug, who had turned his

back and was yelling vainly to the center-fielder to throw him the

ball he had not yet caught up with. On the Charlestonian sped in a

blind hurry. He very much resembled a young man decidedly anxious to

get home as soon as possible. He flew past third base and on down like

an antelope to the plate. This he spurned with his toe as he ran on,

unable to check his furious impetus, until he fell in the arms of the

other Charleston players on the bench.

And then the Charleston faction in the crowd raised crawled in at the

back door and been ousted unceremoniously!

The Kingstonians had certainly played a beautiful game, but

the Charlestonians had played one quite as good. All that the

Kingston-lovers could do when they saw their nine come to the bat for

the ninth time was to look uncomfortable, mop their brows, and remark:

"Whew!"

The Kingstonian center-fielder was the first to the bat, and he struck

out.

Then Jumbo appeared, and played a waiting game he was very fond of:

while pretending to be willing to hit anything that was pitched, he

almost always let the ball go by him; and since he was so short and

stocky,--"built so close to the ground," as he expressed it,--the

pitcher usually threw too high, and Jumbo got his base on balls

a dozen times where he earned it with a base-hit or lost it on a

strike-out.

And now he reached first base in his old pet way, and made ardent

preparations to steal second; but his enterprise was short-lived, for

the Kingston third baseman knocked an easy grounder to the short-stop,

who picked it from the ground and tossed it into the second baseman's

hands almost with one motion; and the second baseman, just touching

the base with his toe to put Jumbo out on a forced run, made a clean

throw to first that put out the batsman also, and with him the side.

The scientists marked down upon the calendars of their memory the fact

that they had seen two preparatory school teams play a nine-inning

game without scoring a run. The others in the crowd only felt sick

with hope deferred, and wondered if that home plate were going to be

as difficult to reach as the north pole.

The Charleston third baseman came to the bat first for his side in the

tenth inning, and he struck out. The left-fielder followed him, and

by knocking a little bunt that buzzed like a top just in front of the

plate, managed to agonize his way to first base before Reddy and Heady

could field the ball, both of them having jumped for it and reached it

at the same time. But this man, making a rash and foolish effort to

steal second, was given the eighteenth-century punishment of death for

theft, Heady having made a perfect throw from the plate.

The Charleston short-stop reached second on a fly muffed by the

Kingston right-fielder--the first error made by this excellent player.

And now once more the redoubtable Charleston catcher appeared at the

bat. Once more he showed his understanding of Reddy's science. This

time he was evidently determined to wipe out the mistake he had made

of too great haste on his previous home runs. After warming up with

two strikes, and letting three balls pass, he found the ball where he

wanted it, and drove out into left-field a magnificent fly.

Pretty saw it coming, and turning, ran to the best of his ability for

the uttermost edge of his field, hoping only to delay the course of

the ball. At length it overtook him, and even as he ran he sprang into

the air and clutched upward for it, and struck it as if he would bat

it back to the home plate.

It did not stick to his fingers, but none of the scorers counted it as

an error on the clean square beside his name under the letter E. He

had not achieved the impossible of catching it, but he had done the

next best thing: he had knocked it to the ground and run it down in

two or three steps, and turned, and drawing backward till the ball

almost touched the ground behind him, had strained every muscle with a

furious lunge, and sent the ball flying for home in a desperate race

with the Charleston short-stop, who had passed third base and was

sprinting for dear life homeward.

At the plate stood Heady, beckoning the carrier-pigeon home with

frantic hope, Sawed-Off and Reddy both rushing to get behind him and

back him up, so that at least not more than one run should be scored.

With a gasp of resolve the Charleston runner, seeing by Heady's eyes

that the ball was just at hand, flung himself to the ground, hoping to

lay at least a finger-tip on the plate; but there was a quick thwack

as the ball struck Heady's gloves, there was a stinging blow at the

Charlestonian's right shoulder-blade, and the shrill cry of the

umpire:

"Out!"

Once more the spectators shifted in their seats and knit their brows,

and observed:

"Whew!"

And now Sleepy opened the second half of the tenth inning. He had a

little splutter of applause for his magnificent throw when he came to

the plate; but he either was dreaming of base-hits and did not

hear it, or was too lazy to lift his cap, for he made no sign of

recognition. He made a sign of recognition of the Charleston's

pitcher's first upshoot, however, for he sent it spinning leisurely

down into right-field--so leisurely that even he beat it to first

base. The Kingston right-fielder now atoned for his previous error by

a ringing hit that took Sleepy on a comfortable jog to second base and

placed himself safely on first.

Then Reddy came to the bat. He was saved the chagrin of striking out

to his deadly rival, but the hit he knocked was only a little fly that

the pitcher caught. The two base-runners, however, had not had great

expectations of Reddy's batting prowess, so they did not stray far

from their bases, and were not caught napping.

Now Tug came to the bat; and while he was gathering his strength for

a death-dealing blow at the ball, the two base-runners made ready to

take advantage of anything he should hit. The right-fielder played off

too far, and, to Tug's despair, was caught by a quick throw from the

pitcher to the first baseman.

Tug's heart turned sick within him, for there were two men out, and

the only man on base was Sleepy, who could never be counted on to make

a two-base run on a one-base hit.

As Tug stood bewailing his fate, the ball shot past him, and the

umpire cried:

"Strike--one!"

Tug shook himself together with a jolt, and struck furiously at the

next ball.

"Strike--two!" sang the umpire.

And now the umpire had upon his lips the fatal words:

"Strike--three!"

For as he looked down the line traced in the air by the ball, he saw

that Tug had misjudged it. But for once science meant suicide; for

though Tug struck wildly, the ball condescendingly curved down and

fell full and fair upon the bat, and danced off again over the first

baseman's head and toward the feet of the right-fielder. This worthy

player ran swiftly for it and bent forward, but he could not reach it.

It struck him a smarting whack on the instep, and bounded off outside

the foul-line; and while he limped painfully after it, there was time

even for the sleepy Sleepy to reach the plate and score a run.

And then the right-fielder, half blinded with pain, threw the ball at

nobody in particular, and it went into the crowd back of third base,

and Tug came in unopposed.

And since the game was now Kingston's, no one waited to see whether

Heady would have knocked a home run or struck out. He was not given a

chance to bat.