PLAIN ENGLISH.
Clancy and Ballard were not successful in rounding up all the fellows
Merriwell had asked them to see. On such short notice, however, they did
very well.
Jerry Spink, who was booked for left field, had gone to the Tin Cup
Ranch with an important letter for his father, who was part owner of
the cattle outfit. He was expected back some time Thursday, and the
boys left word for him to report at the clubhouse by two-thirty
Thursday afternoon, if he got back in time.
Benaway, picked for one of the reserves, was a clerk in the general
store and post office. The proprietor of the store had sent him to a
placer mine to collect a bill, and it was expected that he would return
some time during the evening. A message was likewise left for him.
Shaw was down with tonsillitis, and he set up a terrible wail of
disappointment when he learned what was going on, and realized his
inability to help out.
Barzy Blunt, Mose Handy, and Lin Reckless were all the fellows Ballard
and Clancy could get together. Spink and Benaway would be on hand the
following day, however, without fail.
The six lads, brimming over with enthusiasm because of the game
scheduled with Gold Hill, reached the Ophir clubhouse at about
four-thirty. Neither Merry, nor any of those he had gone to see, had
arrived.
“Chip will be along before many minutes,” said Clancy. “Let’s get a
couple of balls and begin limbering up on the diamond.”
They were hard at it when the Bradlaugh car halted at the clubhouse and
unloaded Mr. Bradlaugh, his son, Hannibal--who had been picked up on the
way through town--Jode Lenning, and Merriwell.
The party came onto the athletic field by a passage between the end of
the clubhouse and the gymnasium. Merriwell was first to come into view
of those on the diamond.
“Hoop-a-la!” shouted Barzy Blunt, waving his cap. “Here’s Chip with the
rest of the bunch. You can bet a ripe persimmon he wouldn’t----”
The rest of the cowboy athlete’s remark did not appear. Words suddenly
froze on his lips. Just behind Merriwell was Lenning, and for Lenning,
Blunt had no use whatever.
“Suffering cats!” muttered Blunt, as soon as he could recover the power
of speech. “Say, Ballard, why is that no-account juniper trailing Chip?”
Clancy and Ballard had kept quiet about Merry’s determination to work
Lenning into the nine. They had a feeling that their chum’s move was to
prove distinctly unpopular, and they fought shy of mentioning it. The
secret would soon be out, now, and Clancy and Ballard awaited the result
with a good deal of trepidation.
Blunt was a firm friend of Merriwell’s, but when fate gave him Blunt for
a surname she indicated his character unerringly. He was blunt of speech
and had a hot temper, and it was a habit of his to flash out his
feelings in plain English, with small regard for consequences.
Nor was the cowboy the only one on the diamond who had been jolted into
silence by the sight of Lenning. Handy and Reckless likewise manifested
all the symptoms of severe frost.
Clancy and Ballard tried to save the situation by a little joshing and
horseplay. It was a half-hearted attempt, however, and could not make a
breach in the forbidding wall with which Blunt, Handy, and Reckless had
surrounded themselves.
Merry was quick to sense the chill in the air, and he hurriedly seconded
the efforts of Clancy and Ballard to put matters on a better footing.
Brad, on the ride out to the clubhouse, had had several minutes to
accustom himself to the presence of Lenning. Loyally he rallied to
Merry’s support. Brad’s father, also, did what he could to ease off the
tension.
“Hello, fellows!” Frank called good-naturedly. “I wonder if you’re all
as hungry to get after the horsehide as I am? This game with Gold Hill
suits me right up to the handle. Barzy, you look like a three-time
winner. Handy, you look as fit for the national game as you did for the
gridiron, a few weeks ago. Reckless, old chap, how’s tricks?”
In this breezy fashion, Frank strove to smooth out the disagreeable
twist in the situation. Lenning was there by his persuasions, and he
felt that the fault would be his if the lad was humiliated in any way.
“I think we owe a vote of thanks to Colonel Hawtrey and Chip Merriwell
for this chance to clash with Gold Hill on the diamond,” piped Brad.
“We’ve got to work like the dickens, though, if we get in shape for the
game between now and Saturday.”
“You must all pull together, my lads,” put in the general manager
significantly.
Neither Blunt, nor Handy, nor Reckless had a word to say. After their
first cool scrutiny of Lenning, they proceeded to ignore him.
“Where’s the wonderful Mexican backstop, Chip?” queried Clancy.
“Couldn’t get hold of him to-day,” Frank answered, “but he’ll be along
to-morrow. What about Spink, Benaway, and Shaw, Clan?”
Clancy reported as to the three players Merry had mentioned.
“That’s tough about Shaw,” Merry observed, “but, on the whole, we’re
making out a good deal better than I expected. I can depend on you
fellows, can I?” The question was aimed particularly at Blunt, Handy,
and Reckless.
“I reckon you can, Chip,” drawled Blunt, a gleam of temper playing in
his sloe-black eyes. “How have you fixed the make-up of the team?”
“You’re down for second, Barzy, and if they hit me too hard you’ll
probably have to move up to the pitcher’s box.”
“That’s a joke,” and the grin that half formed itself about the cowboy’s
lip’s led Merry to think he was forgetting Lenning. “You’re the best
amateur twirler in these parts, and if you can’t handle the Gold Hillers
there’ll be no use calling on me. I’m satisfied to hold down the second
bag. You and this greaser from the mine will be the battery for Ophir,
eh?”
“Probably. Clancy’s at first, Handy’s at third, and Brad goes to short.
Ballard, Spink, and Lenning will be in the outfield.”
Here Handy proceeded to take part in the conversation. “Lenning?” he
echoed.
Merry faced around and gave Handy a square look.
“I said Lenning would be in the outfield,” he remarked.
“Oh!” Handy grunted. That was all, but if ever a monosyllable shook its
rattles and got ready to strike that one did.
The nature of Lin Reckless belied his name. He was canny, and just at
that moment realized the value of holding himself in check. He had both
balls, and he began juggling them with one hand, and whistling softly.
“I reckon I might as well tune up my bazoo and go on record right here,
Chip,” said Blunt. “You ought to know, by now, that I never walk around
a ten-acre lot in order to call a spade an agricultural implement. I’m
not going to do it now. I’d hate myself for a month of blue moons if I
ever played ball with a snake in the grass like Jode Lenning. Instead of
leaving Reckless on the bench, you can put him in the outfield. Lenning
will have his hands full looking after that job you got for him, if I’m
any prophet.”
It was a barbed shaft, and Lenning squirmed when it struck him. His face
went white on the instant.
Frank’s face was almost as white as Lenning’s. With a quick move he
placed himself alongside the lad under discussion. Before he could
speak, Handy broke in.
“Blunt’s got it about right, Chip,” said he. “I don’t want to hurt
Lenning’s feelings, or put you in any sort of hole, but I can’t see why
you should expect us fellows to play ball with Lenning.”
“I expect you to have some consideration for me,” said Frank hotly,
“even if you haven’t any for Lenning. He’s here by my invitation. I have
asked him, just as I asked you, to help make up the nine. If you don’t
want a team, and don’t care for a game with Gold Hill, say so here and
now, and we’ll declare it off.”
Merriwell resented, with all the force of his nature, these flings at
Lenning. He felt that his anger was getting beyond control, and he was
glad that Mr. Bradlaugh took a hand in the matter at that moment.
“You ought to know better than to talk that way, Blunt,” said Mr.
Bradlaugh sharply. “And you, too, Handy. Merriwell is getting the team
together, and you ought to have enough confidence in him to approve of
whatever he does.”
“Whenever I’ve got anything on my mind,” answered Blunt, “I try to get
rid of it in plain English. Now that I’ve had my say about Lenning, I’ll
drop in a few words for Chip. You’re the clear quill, pard,” he went on
to Merry, “and I’d fight for you any day you can find in the almanac;
but when it comes to associating with a crook and a schemer, I reckon
I’ve got a right to pick and choose for myself.”
“Sure you have,” approved Handy.
Reckless was still whistling and juggling the two balls. He seconded
everything that Blunt and Handy were saying, but felt that some
consideration was due Merriwell in the matter, and declined to express
himself.
“It’s a darned shame,” blurted out Brad indignantly, “that you two
chumps couldn’t have talked this over privately with Chip instead of
shooting off a big noise where it will do the most harm. You make me
tired!” and he turned on his heel and walked off.
Truth to tell, the helpless writhing of Jode Lenning was more than Brad
could endure. Lenning himself suddenly turned and moved away in the
direction from which he had come, his head bowed dejectedly.
“Blunt,” said Merriwell scathingly, “you and Handy ought to be ashamed
of yourselves. Is it your style to jump on a fellow when he’s down? If I
put into this plain English you’re harping about all I think of you two,
it would be different from what you’ve said about Lenning, but it would
sound a whole lot worse. You might have had the common decency to keep
still while Lenning was around.”
The vigor with which Merry expressed himself rather startled Blunt and
Handy. But Frank was not yet done.
“Look back a little in your own life, Blunt,” said he meaningly. “I
guess you will find something there that will help you to understand how
you have made Lenning feel.”
The cowboy fell back a step, with twin devils blazing in his eyes.
Merriwell’s words had probed a sore only recently healed, and for a
second Blunt felt all the old agonizing smart caused by the rough
handling. Then, as quickly, his rage passed.
“I reckon you got me there, Chip,” said he. “I went a heap farther with
Lenning than I meant to, but that’s how I feel.”
Frank did not answer. Turning, he hurried after Lenning, vanishing
between the end of the clubhouse and the south wall of the gymnasium
building.
“Fine business, I must say,” growled Ballard. “If this kind of a spirit
lasts up till next Saturday, I can see where we get off.”
“It won’t last,” said Handy. “Lenning’s out of it now, just as he ought
to be, and everything is all right.”
But Mr. Bradlaugh shook his head forebodingly.