READY FOR THE GREAT GAME.
"WHAT'S the matter with this for a corker?"
Lil Artha, the long-legged first baseman of the Hickory Ridge nine, put
this question to his mates as the big carry-all containing the team,
with several substitutes, came in view of the fine field at Basking
Ridge on the afternoon when the great game was to be decided.
No one tried to answer.
The reason was plain, for they were utterly overwhelmed by the magnitude
of the immense crowd that had assembled to see the anticipated spirited
contest between the rival teams of Boy Scouts.
In every direction were great masses of people, all decked out in their
holiday attire. Girls in white and every color of the rainbow waved
parasols, gay handkerchiefs, and little flags on which the name of their
favorite team had been emblazoned.
"Why," gasped Ted, when he could catch his breath, which had been
actually snatched away from him by his amazement, "there must be a
thousand of them here!"
"Better say millions and be done with it," laughed Red, eager for the
fray.
"The whole county has turned out to do us honor, it seems," remarked
Matty.
"And because of that, fellows," put in Elmer, "every Hickory Ridge scout
ought to shut his teeth hard and make up his mind to win out; never to
give up; and if he makes an error, do something right afterward to atone
for it."
"Right you are, my boy," remarked Mr. Garrabrant, the efficient scout
master, who fortunately was enabled to accompany the boys on this trip.
"I was just going to say something along those same lines myself when
you took the words out of my mouth. Hickory Ridge is watching you
to-day, fellows; and Hickory Ridge expects every one of her sons to do
his duty. Nobody can do more."
"Well, here we are, safe and sound," remarked Ty, as the vehicles came
to a stop in the midst of the tremendous throng.
"Wow! listen to that, would you?" said Toby, as cheers started that
seemed to rock the very earth.
The team from Fairfield had arrived some time before. They were busily
engaged in building up their batting abilities by sending out hot ones
that a number of local baseball enthusiasts caught in the field.
"Say, they're a lot of hustlers, now, let me tell you," declared Red, as
he stood for a minute watching the actions of the others.
"Oh, they're big enough," remarked Lil Artha, indifferently; "but since
when did size count for everything in baseball? You'll see the smallest
fellow step up and knock out a homer, where a big stiff like me swings
at three wide ones and sits down on the mourners' bench."
"Like anything you will," said Red, disdainfully.
"The pitcher who strikes you out has got to get up early in the morning,
that's what"; since the gaunt first baseman was noted for his keen
batting eye and could pick out a "good one" as well as any in the
business.
"Come on, fellows, let's get busy," called Elmer, as he passed a ball to
one of the others, and in almost a twinkling the whole bunch was
tossing back and forth, gradually widening out.
Then a few of them fraternized with their opponents, as they happened to
know most of the Fairfield fellows, and in this way a number of Elmer's
team found a chance to take a turn at bat.
It was a sight that would not soon be forgotten in Basking Ridge. They
certainly did have a splendid field for the sport; and the grand stand
was a little gem in its way, but on such an occasion it did not begin to
hold one fifth of the spectators who would have been glad of a chance to
use it.
"Ground rules to-day, that's sure, Elmer," remarked the field captain of
the Hickory Ridge team, as he stood alongside the pitcher, receiving the
ball at intervals and returning it.
"That goes, without a doubt," replied Elmer, as he surveyed the mass of
people packed around the diamond and the field. "And if I were you, I'd
look up Matt Tubbs right away, so as to have that matter settled."
"Sure," said Lil Artha. "And I reckon that a hit into the crowd will
stand for two bases and no more."
"As near as I can see, there's only _one place_ anybody can hit to-day
for a homer," declared Elmer, again surveying the field.
"Tell me where that is," remarked Lil Artha, "because I want to know. As
field captain, it's my business to know; and as an humble batter, I
might want to look that way before the game grows cold."
"You'll notice that none of the crowd seem to want to pack upon the
right of the center field," Elmer went on in a low tone. "If a batter
could send one out there like hot shot, that managed to escape the
fielder, it would never stop on that little down grade till he'd made
the rounds."
"Aw, thanks!" replied Lil Artha, dryly. "I'm sorry that my specialty
happens to lie off there in left; but I'm going to twist around a little
and keep that down grade in mind. Perhaps, who knows?" and he winked at
Elmer in his comical way as he hurried off to confer with Matt Tubbs.
Home Run Joe Mallon, the professional ball player who was home at
Basking Ridge nursing a broken arm, was on the spot, ready to serve as
umpire. He had been well known in this capacity before he broke into the
big league, and people used to say that he seldom erred in his
decisions. They called him "Honest Joe" at the time he umpired, and few
ever disputed his decisions. He might make a slight slip, but everyone
knew he decided plays just as he saw them and the rabble of the
bleachers never had any weight with him.
Elmer and Mark found a chance to get together and confer where they
could speak their minds without others hearing.
Later on they expected to warm up for business, but it was too soon, as
yet. After the rest of the team had started in on their fifteen minutes
of practice it would be time enough for Elmer to try out a few of his
curves and drops.
"I had Jasper Merriweather show me the fellow," Elmer remarked.
"Meaning our slick friend, Lon Braddock?" questioned the catcher.
"Yes. That's Lon talking to Henry Cobb, who plays third base for the
Fairfield nine. And Mark, between you and me, I don't just like his face
or manner."
"Same here, Elmer," declared the other quickly.
"He's got a tricky way about him, and I warrant you that fellow is going
to give Matt Tubbs more trouble than all the rest of his team combined.
Look at him chuckling now. Ten to one he's telling Cobb how he's got the
Injun sign on our signals, and what great stunts the Fairfield batters
are going to do with your curves and slants."
"Well, you know the old saying to the effect that the fellow laughs
hardest who laughs last; and Mark, believe me, we're going to have that
privilege. But I hope you won't give it away by jeering the unlucky
batter when he nearly kills the air swiping at one that is away beyond
the end of his stick."
"I'll try and keep a straight face, Elmer," chuckled Mark. "Got a piece
of alum in my pocket right now, and before the game begins I mean to rub
it over the side of my mouth, so as not to be able to crack a smile.
There go our boys out in the field for practice."
"Well, perhaps we'd better get a move on, then, and pass a few, though
after our morning work I don't feel much in need of it, Mark."
As Fairfield had already taken the field, and there was now only fifteen
minutes left before game would be called, the battery of the rival team
was also hard at work when Elmer and Mark started in.
Of course, neither pitcher tried his best in that preliminary bout. Well
did they know that eager eyes were watching them for points connected
with their delivery, and that these would be quickly seized upon for an
advantage. Hence they contented themselves, as a rule, in sending in
swift, straight balls simply to warm up.
Hickory Ridge had batted against Matt Tubbs for several seasons, and yet
never had a game been actually finished. Up to the present they had
always broken up in a beautiful row, in which both sides claimed
victory.
Elmer had pitched part of a game the preceding summer. At the time he
had proven so much of a mystery to his opponents that, seeing
prospective defeat staring his team in the face, Matt Tubbs had found
some pretext for disputing a decision of the umpire to end the battle.
But since that time the Fairfield team had been greatly strengthened,
and in all their games thus far this season they had beaten their
opponents easily.
On a neutral field, with a firm umpire directing matters and with all
the participants members of the Boy Scouts, it was believed that for
once a game between these old rivals might be threshed out to a
conclusion.
Many shook their heads, remembering the Matt Tubbs of old and
prophesying all manner of evil things that might spring from this
bitterly contested game. Others, who knew something of the principles
governing true scouts, tried to take heart of hope and believe that
there must have been a great awakening in the former bully. But even
they admitted that "the proof of the pudding lay in the eating of it,"
and that they would be better satisfied when the end came without a
riotous demonstration on the part of Fairfield and Cramertown.
The Hickory Ridge boys seemed to acquit themselves very well in
practice. Numerous dazzling pick-ups were made by the infield that
brought out roars of applause from the big crowd; while those tending
the outer gardens had to make rapid speed and do some air-jumping in
order to drag down the flies that were sent out in their direction.
Having seen both teams at work, the crowd hardly knew which looked the
better. And, as in most cases, it ended in a strictly partisan division,
each town standing loyally by its athletes, with Basking Ridge about
equally divided.
Finally the Hickory Ridge fellows were called in from the field. The
time for practice had expired, and presently, when a few little details
were gone through with, real business would begin.
The two teams lined up for the fray in this order:
HICKORY RIDGE SCOUTS.
Ted Burgoyne Third Base
Toby Jones Right
Lil Artha First Base
Chatz Maxfield Left
Red Huggins Short Stop
Ty Collins Center
Matty Eggleston Second Base
Elmer Chenowith Pitcher
Mark Cummings Catcher
FAIRFIELD SCOUTS.
Felix Wagner Second Base
Adrian Cook Left
John Bastian Right
Henry Cobb Third Base
Christy Poole First Base
Angus McDowd Center
John Mulligan Short Stop
Tom Ballinger Catcher
Matt Tubbs Pitcher
There was a wave of talk passing over the throng as the two captains
conferred. It was understood that they were deciding finally on the
ground rules that must prevail, on account of the mass of spectators
pushing in on the lines. All Basking Ridge's local police force was on
the spot, but half a dozen good-natured officers are next to useless
when up against thousands; in contests of this sort dependence must be
placed on the spirit of fair play that is generally a part of baseball
crowds, especially in smaller towns, where the players are known.
"The game is called; now for it!" yelled the nearest spectators, as they
saw the umpire pick up his mask and step forward to announce the
batteries, while the Hickory Ridge players started for their positions.
"And we have the last look-in, as we take the field first!" howled an
enthusiastic follower of the team that looked to Elmer as the keystone
of their arch.