THE LINE-UP.
Merry’s friendship for Lenning had been dead against the sentiments and
the judgment of Clancy and Ballard. That Merry’s insight into the
fellow’s nature had been more keen and more correct than their own,
Clancy and Ballard were forced to admit. Nevertheless, they still felt
that Lenning was more or less of a crook, and it surprised them to have
Merry mention his name at all in connection with the prospective nine.
“What’s biting you?” asked Frank, meeting the stare of his chums
good-naturedly.
“Can’t you find enough players without taking on Lenning?” queried
Ballard.
“Possibly, Pink, but I want him.”
“The rest won’t stand for it, Chip,” blurted out Clancy.
“Why won’t they?”
“Well, it’s--it’s---- Oh, hang it, you know why they won’t, Chip,
without my going into details.”
“Whom do you mean by ‘they,’ Red?”
“The Ophir fellows--and the Gold Hillers, too. Lenning has proved that
he isn’t square. I guess that’s enough to make every one give him the
cold shoulder.”
“If you’re going to dig into a fellow’s past, Clan, and judge him by
what he was rather than by what he is now, of course I haven’t got
anything to say. But I don’t call that being square, either.”
“We were off a bit when we accused Lenning of helping Shoup run away
with the bullion,” put in Ballard, “but we haven’t had much proof, as
yet, that Lenning has squared away and intends to do the right thing
from now on.”
“We’re going to give him a chance, fellows,” Merry cried, “and we’ll
begin by selecting him for this pick-up nine.”
“There’ll be objections----”
“All right,” cut in Merry impatiently, “if the objections come I’ll try
and meet them. Put down Jode Lenning’s name first, Red.”
Clancy secured pencil and paper and, not without some reluctance, wrote
as his chum directed.
“Where will Lenning play?” queried Ballard, striving to make the most of
what he considered an unwise selection.
“Don’t know about that yet,” was the answer. “For the next man put down
Mexican Joe for backstop.”
Again Clancy and Ballard displayed astonishment, but this time it was of
another sort.
“Who the mischief is Mexican Joe?” Ballard inquired. “Never heard of him
before.”
“He works in the blacksmith shop at the mine,” said Merriwell, “and Mr.
Bradlaugh was telling me about him only the other day. He used to catch
for a Mexican team, and they say he has the prettiest throw to second of
any amateur in Arizona. We’ve got to have Mexican Joe.”
“I wonder,” grinned Clancy, “if he’ll do his signalling in the greaser
lingo? If he does, Chip, you’re liable to get balled up.”
“I’ll chance that part of it, old man,” said Merry. “Put down Owen
Clancy for the first bag and Billy Ballard for center field.”
“Got that,” reported Clancy, writing rapidly, “and also Chip Merriwell
for pitcher.”
“Bradlaugh, junior, for short.”
“Check.”
“Barzy Blunt, second base.”
“He’s a pitcher, isn’t he?” struck in Ballard.
“He is, and a good one, but I’m told he’s equally good as a baseman. If
I have to be relieved, Barzy can be shifted to the pitcher’s box. Mose
Handy will cover the third sack, and Jerry Spink will take care of left
field.”
“You’ve got your nine, Chip,” reported Clancy, totting up, “and Lenning
is left for right field. Want any substitutes?”
“Got to have. Benaway, Shaw, and Reckless will sit on the benches and be
prepared to fill in. I hear they are good all-around ball players.”
“It’s a good team,” commented Clancy, after studying the list for a few
moments, “with possibly one or two exceptions.”
“Strikes me, fellows,” said Merry, “it’s a mighty fine line-up. I’ll go
over to Mr. Bradlaugh’s office and speak for Mexican Joe, Lenning, and
Brad. I wish you two fellows would hunt up the others. If you can find
them, have them all report at the Ophir athletic field not later than
four this afternoon. This will be just preliminary to some hard work
to-morrow.”
Merry grabbed his cap from the veranda floor, where he had dropped it,
and started briskly to his feet.
“You can count on Pink and me to interview the rest of the fellows,
Chip,” returned Clancy.
“Stir around,” Frank answered, on his way down the veranda steps.
“There’s not much time between now and four. If some of the fellows
can’t get out to the clubhouse by four, then any time up till five will
do.”
It was not many minutes until Merry was in the office of the general
manager of the Ophir Mining Company. Mr. Bradlaugh greeted him with a
smile and a warm handclasp.
“Have you heard,” the lad asked, “that we’re to have a ball game here
next Saturday?”
“I have,” was the answer, “and I’m pleased almost to death, Merriwell.
Colonel Hawtrey left this office not more than five minutes ago. He told
me about it. You’ll have to do some tall hustling, my lad, if you dig up
a nine that can hold the Gold Hillers. Of course, our nine has got to
win. We can’t consider any other result. It would be too bad to have you
wind up your stay in Ophir with a defeat on the ball field.”
“I believe we’ve picked a winning team,” said Merry. “Here’s the
line-up, Mr. Bradlaugh,” and he handed Clancy’s list to the general
manager.
Mr. Bradlaugh leaned back in his office chair and began examining the
list. He had no more than dropped his eyes to the first name than he
gave a start, and looked up.
“Lenning, Merriwell?”
“Yes,” nodded Frank. “He’s a good player, if all I hear is true, and we
need him.”
“Er-hem!” coughed the general manager. “No doubt he’s a good player, and
would be a decided acquisition, but is it a judicious selection?”
“I think so,” answered Frank calmly.
“There are liable to be objections,” suggested Mr. Bradlaugh, “and if
you persist in keeping Lenning in the nine, in spite of them, there will
be discontent among the players. You know too much about sports,
Merriwell, for me to remind you what discontent means among a lot of
players.”
“The point is here, Mr. Bradlaugh,” Frank observed, with considerable
warmth: “Lenning is doing his best to be square, but nobody seems to
have much use for him. He needs friends, and he hasn’t any. Here’s a
chance for him to win back a few of the friends he has lost. I believe
in giving him the chance.”
The general manager wrinkled his brows dubiously.
“I appreciate what you are trying to do, and the generous motive back of
it,” said he; “but is it wise to arouse discontent and pave the way for
a possible defeat? I’m putting the thing up to you frankly.”
“I’ll tell you just as frankly, Mr. Bradlaugh,” said Merry, with spirit,
“that I don’t see why there should be any discontent. Let’s go ahead
with Lenning until we see what happens, anyhow.”
The general manager nodded, still dubious, but content to leave the
matter in Merry’s hands. He studied the rest of the list.
“With the probable exception of Lenning,” he reported, “I think you have
made wise selections. I’ll arrange to give Mexican Joe a three days’
vacation. He’s a wonder as a backstop. Brad, of course, will be
delighted. If Lenning plays, I’ll have Burke lighten his duties at the
cyanide works. Perhaps you’d better go out to the mine and see Joe
personally?”
“Thank you, Mr. Bradlaugh; I had thought of that. And when I see Mexican
Joe, I’ll also talk with Lenning.”
The general manager nodded. “My car’s in front,” said he, “and I have
nothing pressing for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll take you out to the
mine.”
As Mr. Bradlaugh pulled down the roll top of his desk, preparatory to
leaving, Frank noticed that his face wore a troubled look. Was it, he
asked himself, because he had selected Lenning for one of his players?
It hardly seemed possible that so small a matter could affect the
general manager so seriously.