DOUBLE PLAY
But Harry’s dismal prophecy was not, for the time at least, to come
true. Colton steadied down magnificently and Boudinot, Kent and
Patterson were easy victims. A sigh of relief swept over the Yardley
ranks as the last men went out. Fortune still smiled impartially upon
the Blue and the Green alike, and there were still three innings to be
contested.
A little breeze came along the hillside and brought a measure of relief
to the perspiring players and spectators. The sun was almost two hours
nearer the horizon.
In the first of the seventh Yardley again got men on bases, and with
two out and men on first and second, Dan went to bat. As he picked out
his bat he looked inquiringly at Payson, but the coach shook his head.
“Do the best you can,” he said simply. Dan’s best wasn’t good enough.
It was an easy hit into second baseman’s glove. Secretly, however, he
was encouraged, and entertained hopes of being able to get a safe hit
off the Blue’s pitcher before the game was over. That hope wasn’t
realized, but it comforted Dan at the time.
Colton pitched wonderful ball in the seventh and eighth, and Broadwood
could do nothing with him, although in the eighth an error on the part
of Condit at third put a man safe on first, and a poor throw to second
by Richards later gave the same runner another base. But he didn’t get
beyond the second bag.
The ninth inning opened with Lawrence at bat for the Blue. Yardley
had congregated her cheering forces back of third base and was
whooping things up in great style. The time had come for a rally and
the School at large meant to do all it could to bring it about. The
blue-stockinged players themselves brightened up and looked more
determined. Up in the grand-stand Gerald and Harry were leaning forward
on the edge of the seat and breathing hard. Mr. Pennimore had lighted a
cigar. As he was an infrequent smoker, Gerald knew that the cigar was
to quiet his father’s nerves.
Lawrence came to bat, looking fiercely determined, and after he had
struck four fouls hit the ball into first baseman’s hands. A poor
beginning, that. But the cheerers seemed undismayed and when Loring
followed him they gave him a cheer that was a cheer, a cheer with
three “Lorings” on the end.
Alf had been batting finely and great things were expected of him. Just
what he would have accomplished will never be known, for an in-shoot
struck him on the wrist and he walked to first nursing the injured
member and scowling fearsomely at Herring. Herring, however, was
probably quite as regretful over the occurrence as Alf. Once on the bag
Alf recovered his good temper and, just to prove that all was forgiven,
immediately stole second amidst the wild plaudits of his friends.
He made a fine slide and beat the ball by what looked to be about a
half-inch, but which was probably somewhat more. Richards, looking just
as grimly determined as Lawrence, singled between shortstop and third
baseman, and Alf went on to third. He would have kept on for home, and
might possibly have made it, had not Colton, coaching behind that base,
held him. Colton came in for a good deal of criticism, but with only
one out, he played it safely and wisely.
Millener went to bat with Alf on third and Richards on first. Richards
was not a good man at stealing and Durfee, who was coaching at first,
held him there and awaited a hit. Millener was anxious enough to hit,
too; you could see that. But nothing came to his liking. Perhaps the
cross-fire of coaching got on Herring’s nerves. At all events, after
scoring two strikes on Millener he was unable to put another ball over,
and Millener trotted to first on four balls. That filled the bases and
Yardley’s cheering took on new volume and stridency. Surely the game
was won now! With three on bases and only one man down, things looked
very good!
But when it was seen that the man up was Vinton, the prospect didn’t
appear quite so bright. Vinton had shown that while he could play
his position at second to the King’s taste he was no batter. Many
wondered why Payson didn’t substitute another player, one whose ability
to bat was proved. The truth is that Payson didn’t dare to, as he
explained afterwards. He expected the game to run into extra innings
and he had no one amongst the substitutes who could hold down second
satisfactorily. So he chanced it, knowing that even if Dan went out
there was still Smith to depend on.
Dan, when he realized the situation and what was expected of him,
rather wished for a moment that Payson had taken him out. But that was
for a moment only. Then his fighting spirit arose and he determined to
show them that Payson knew what he was about. So he faced Herring with
a fine assumption of confidence and so impressed the latter that when
the catcher called for a straight ball he shook his head and tried a
drop instead. Dan was learning now, and the drop didn’t deceive him.
He let it go by and heard the umpire say “Ball!” But the next delivery
caught him napping, and the score was even. Then came something that
looked just about right, and Dan stepped forward and struck it. But
the ball went glancing back over the stop and the umpire called “Foul!
Strike two!”
Dan’s heart sank then. But outwardly he only smiled grimly and took a
firmer grip on the bat. The next delivery was so palpably wide that
Dan didn’t even hesitate about refusing it. Then perhaps Herring was
impatient, for he sent a slow ball that dropped ever so little as it
neared the plate, and Dan, with a sudden suffocating sensation in his
throat, swung at it hard. Bat and ball met with a comforting sound that
sent him speeding down the line to first. High and far went the ball.
Dan rounded first and started toward second. Then, realizing that he
was blocked, he slowed up and scampered back so as not to be in the way
of Millener if that player had to return to first. That was a long fly,
but Broadwood’s center-fielder was under it as it came down, and Dan
was out.
Over on third, however, Alf was poised, one foot on the bag, ready
to sprint for home as soon as the ball touched earth or player. And
the instant center-fielder caught it Alf settled his head between his
shoulders and dug out for the plate. In came the ball, center-fielder
to shortstop, shortstop to catcher, but it didn’t come quick enough
to keep Alf from scoring. He was over the base and rolling out of the
way amidst a cloud of dust when the catcher swung for him. And down
on third Richards was watching hard for a chance to follow Alf in,
and on second Millener was dancing exultantly about. Dan walked back
to the bench and into the arms of the players there. They thumped him
and shouted congratulations into his ears. They had to shout, for the
cheering section was making such a noise that only shouts could be
heard even over here at the bench. Dan grinned and sank into a seat.
Danforth, whom Dan had displaced at second and who had been looking
pretty glum all the afternoon, reached over and shook hands smilingly.
Then came Alf and squeezed himself in beside Dan and rumpled his hair
and punched him and beamed ecstatically. Meanwhile Smith was trying
what he could do. Two balls and then a shout of joy as the ball arched
up and away into left field dwindling to silence as left-fielder pulled
it down, tossed away his glove and trotted in.
The side was out and the score stood 4 to 3 in Yardley’s favor. Cheered
to the echo the blue-stockinged players ran into the field. The day was
not yet won, and they all realized it. Some of the enemy’s best batters
were coming up and if victory was to remain with the Blue it behooved
the latter’s warriors to battle grandly.
“Now, then, fellows!” cried Millener. “Buck up, and get this over! Play
the game!”
The last half began amidst such a pandemonium of sound as hadn’t been
heard on Broadwood Field for years. Cheers for Yardley and cheers for
Broadwood met in midfield and clashed heavenward in a mighty volume.
Then, “Batter up, please!” called the umpire, and the final struggle
was on.
Cross, the first of the foe to face Colton, was an easy proposition and
struck out miserably. And Yardley acclaimed wildly. Then came Gale,
the Broadwood captain. He looked at once anxious and determined. He
found the first ball thrown for a safe hit over shortstop. Then it
was Broadwood’s turn to shout, and she did it. After Gale came the
dangerous Little, and the Yardley outfield fell further back. But
although Little hit, his effort was good for only one base. Things
began to look interesting now and Boudinot, after lingering at the
bench for several moments listening to instructions, stepped to the
plate with a gleam in his eye that put Colton on his mettle.
For a minute or two it seemed that Colton had taken his measure, for he
worked two strikes on him in succession. But after that Colton couldn’t
please the umpire and Boudinot walked to first and filled the bases. If
there had been pandemonium before, what ensued is beyond any language
I know. Back of first and third the Broadwood coachers were yelling
themselves hoarse. Colton was plainly nervous, so nervous that he made
the mistake of throwing to first in an attempt to catch the runner
there. That almost proved disastrous, for Millener was not looking for
the throw, and only stopped it by a hair’s breadth. If it had gone by,
at least two men would have scored and the game would have been lost
then and there. Richards walked down to the box and talked a moment
with Colton, finally clapping him encouragingly on the shoulder before
he returned to his mask and mitt.
Broadwood’s next man was Kent, the shortstop. He wasn’t big but he was
spry and very much in earnest. He smiled derisively at the first ball
and looked pained when the umpire called it a strike. He even wanted
to argue about it, but the official refused to let him. So he gave his
attention to Colton instead, looking quite incensed. Colton sent in an
exasperating in-shoot that fooled Kent quite as fully as had the first
delivery and the umpire called:
“Strike two!”
Kent got madder still, so mad that he quite forgot caution and stepped
out after the next ball and, contrary to all law, found it squarely
on the end of his bat. In raced the man on third, down from second
went the next runner, off for second streaked the third, and away went
Kent and the ball simultaneously, the former for the first bag and
the latter, to all appearances, for somewhere in right center-field.
Broadwood leaped deliriously and waved her banners. All this is what
the first moment saw. The next saw a lad poised midway between first
base and second and some yards back of the line, leap high into the air
in the path of the speeding ball, saw the ball tip the upthrust glove,
bound into the air, and come down in that same glove, saw the lad race
to second and tag that base, and saw Broadwood’s discomfiture and
defeat, Yardley’s ecstasy and victory!
* * * * *
Over on a corner of the Yardley bench the scorer bent over his book
while the crowds overflowed the field. He was putting the finishing
touches to his work, and as he figured the last summary he smiled in
contentment. Here is the story the score-book told:
===================================================================
YARDLEY R H P A E | BROADWOOD R H P A E
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Durfee, ss 1 1 1 6 1 | Cross, 2b 0 2 2 5 1
Colton, p 1 1 0 1 0 | Gale, 3b 0 1 2 3 1
Condit, 3b 1 1 1 0 1 | Russell, cf 0 0 0 3 0
Lawrence, rf 0 0 0 0 1 | Little, cf 1 1 2 0 0
Loring, lf 1 1 0 0 0 | Boudinot, rf 1 1 1 0 0
Richards, c 0 1 9 2 0 | Kent, ss 1 0 0 3 1
Millener, 1b 0 1 11 0 0 | Patterson, c 0 0 5 2 1
Vinton, 2b 0 0 3 3 0 | Bray, 1b 0 0 13 0 0
Smith, cf 0 0 2 0 0 | Minot, lf 0 0 2 0 0
| Herring, p 0 0 0 2 1
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Totals 4 6 27 12 3 | Totals 3 5 27 18 5
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Innings 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Yardley 3 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1--4
Broadwood 0 0 0 2 0 1 0 0 0--3
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Home Run--Little. Three-base Hit--Patterson. Two-base
Hits--Colton, Loring. Sacrifice Hits--Kent, Vinton. Stolen
Bases--Cross, Loring, Durfee. Bases on Balls--Off Herring, 2;
off Colton, 3. Struck Out--By Herring, 5; by Colton, 7. Hit by
Pitched Ball--Cross, Boudinot, Minot, Loring, Smith. Double
Plays--Cross to Bray, Vinton unassisted. Time of Game--2 h. 35
m. Umpire--Gill.
What a journey home in the automobile that was! Mr. Pennimore, Gerald,
Dan, Alf, and Harry in the tonneau, and Tom beside the chauffeur! How
the blue flags snapped and fluttered their signal of victory as the
big car ate up the white road! How, as they rehearsed the struggle,
they always came back sooner or later to Dan’s double play!
“Why, Dan,” declared Alf vehemently, “you won that game just as much
as though you had made a home-run with the bases full! If you hadn’t
doubled then Broadwood would have scored twice at least! Confound you,
Dan, you’re always doing some spectacular stunt and making a blooming
hero of yourself! Why can’t I be a hero, I’d like to know? But you just
wait until next year. If I can’t find any other way of doing it I’ll
set fire to Dudley and rescue Tom in his nightie from the devouring
flames! I’ll be a hero or perish!”
“So that,” inquired Mr. Pennimore when they had ceased laughing at
Alf’s sally, “is what you call a ‘double play.’ Well, it strikes me,
Dan, that double plays are your forte.”
“That’s the first one I ever made, sir,” answered Dan.
Mr. Pennimore smiled.
“Technically, yes, I dare say. But I wonder if we can’t put the term
‘double play’ to a broader interpretation. It seems to me, now, that
anyone who not only makes his own career successful but finds time to
look after the welfare of his friend might very well be said to be
making a double play. What do you say, Mr. Dyer?”
“Yes, sir, you’re right,” answered Tom with decision. “And that’s just
what Dan’s done, as we all know.”
“Yes, and here is one who knows it better than the rest of us,” said
Mr. Pennimore, with an affectionate look at Gerald.
Gerald smiled and glanced shyly at Dan.
“I know one time when he made a double play, and a bully one,” he
affirmed amidst laughter. “And that was when I tried to make a ‘steal
for home.’”
“And which,” added Mr. Pennimore, “unlike most ‘double plays,’ instead
of resulting in a ‘put-out’ perhaps prevented one!”
And he chuckled quite as heartily as any one at his joke.
Here, then, let us leave them for a time, speeding home through the
warm, amber glow of late afternoon, the wind in their faces and joy
in their hearts, feeling as only boys can feel after a battle bravely
fought and a victory well won.
THE END.
BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR.
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* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
--Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in
bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).
--Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to
follow the text that they illustrate.
--Printer’s, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently
corrected.
--Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
--Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.