ORGANIZING THE CLUB.
Promptly on time on the following Saturday the boys who had been
invited to do so gathered at Link Darrow's place and mounted the stairs
leading to the second floor of the carpenter shop.
"This is all right!" exclaimed Walter Bannister, as he gazed around.
"Somebody must have worked hard to get this clubroom into ship-shape."
"Yes, but we have got to work harder yet to get the club into shape,"
put in Fred. "This is going to be no go-as-you-please affair. If we
form our club and then let the clubs from other towns defeat us--why,
we'll never hear the end of it, that's all."
"Who's talking defeat already?" demanded Bart Mason. "Anybody who says
defeat ought to be put out."
"That's the talk!" cried Paul Shale. He swung himself up on the end of
the big carpenter's bench. "We are going to win every game we play."
"Bully for Paul!" came from Matt Roscoe. "Nothing like tooting your
horn, even if you haven't any fish to sell."
"Here's a bouquet for you!" sang out Matt, and threw a block of wood at
him. "Now then, what's the first thing to do anyway?"
"The first thing to do is to behave yourself," answered Link.
"All right, I'll say nothing and saw wood," said Frank Pemberton, and
went through the motion of sawing.
"Now let up, all of you!" burst out Joe. "This isn't a negro
minstrels----"
"Great Cæsar! he takes us for coons," interrupted Matt. "Ma beloved
brefren, dis am an outrage!" he added, in negro dialect. "I'se gwine to
pass an amendment to de Constitution dat----"
[Illustration: Organizing the club.]
"If you open your mouth again I'll vote to take you down in the back
yard and duck you in the cistern!" came from Fred. "Really, fellows,"
he continued, calmly, "let us settle down to business."
"That's it--to business!" cried half a dozen. "We can have our fun
after the meeting is over."
"Well, what is there to do?" questioned Frank, after a pause.
"I move we make Link Darrow temporary chairman," came from Bart. "It's
his clubroom."
"Second the motion!" came from Fred.
"All in favor raise their right hands," said Joe, and every hand went
up instantly.
"Teacher, can I go out?" came softly from Matt. "I dropped my chewing
gum out of the window."
"As chairman of this meeting I fine Matt Roscoe five cents for that
interruption," said Link. "All fines can go towards equipping the club."
"Oh, dear! that's where I put my foot into it," grumbled Matt. "I
shan't open my trap again."
"It seems to me that the chairman needs a gavel with which to keep
order," said Frank. "Here you are," and reaching down into a nearby
tool chest he brought forth a large wooden hammer. A roar of laughter
went up, and Link had to pound for silence, which he proceeded to do
with vigor.
"A baseball club needs a captain, a secretary and a treasurer," said
Link when the boys were all attention. "Nominations for a captain, who
shall also act as president, are now in order."
"I nominate Joe Westmore," came from Fred promptly.
"I nominate Link Darrow," came from Joe.
"I decline the nomination," answered Link. "I'm going to vote for Joe."
"So am I," put in Frank. "I don't know enough to be captain."
"I second the nomination of Joe Westmore," came from Paul Shale. "He is
the fellow for the place, boys," he added, earnestly. "He knows more
about baseball than any of us."
"Any more nominations?" asked Link, gravely.
There was a moment of silence.
"Let us make Joe's election unanimous," suggested Frank.
"That's the talk!" was the cry. "Hurrah for Captain Joe Westmore, of
the Lakeport Baseball Club!"
"Gracious me!" gasped Link. "I forgot! We ought to have organized the
club first. We don't know who is a member and who isn't yet."
"Oh, we're all members," came from Bart. "I guess it's carried that Joe
is our captain," he added.
"Yes," said Link. "Joe, come up and take the chair."
"Thanks, but I don't see the chair," said Joe, gravely, and this
brought forth a laugh. "Fellow members of the Lakeport Baseball Club, I
thank you for the honor you have done me, and----"
"Thank you, Joe, you can treat to ice-cream some other time,"
interrupted Matt. "Much obliged just the same."
"I was going to say, we now need a secretary and a treasurer.
Nominations for secretary will first be in order."
There was a little wrangle over this, but finally Bart was selected for
the position, as he was a good and rapid writer. Then Fred was elected
treasurer. After that Link was made steward of the club.
"What does the steward do?" asked Link.
"Keeps the clubroom in order and holds the key to the same," answered
Frank.
"Oh! Well, you fellows have got to help keep the place clean, and
you'll find the key to the shop on a nail in our wash kitchen,"
answered Link.
A set of by-laws were drawn up and the initiation fee was placed at
twenty-five cents, which each boy promised to pay in on the following
Saturday. A committee was also appointed to see what could be done
towards raising money for suits and also for the other articles which
would be needed. It was decided to go into regular practice every day
after school hours, and the various positions of the players were not
to be assigned to them until after Captain Joe could determine what
were each player's strongest and weakest points.
"I am going to show no favors," said Joe, soberly. "I am going to do my
level best--not only for the sake of the club, but also for the sake of
our town. We have got to do all we can to beat the Brookside Club, and
likewise the clubs from Camdale and other places."
"The Brookside fellows are mostly larger than we are," came from Paul.
"Even so, we must beat them if we can."
"Of course we are going to play only amateur nines," said Bart.
"To be sure. We'd stand no show at all against professionals," answered
Harry.
Altogether twelve boys had joined the club, but several of these were
not overly enthusiastic and were quite willing to be placed "on the
bench," as it is termed, as substitutes. The first meeting was declared
a great success, and all of the boys went home feeling that Lakeport
was to be represented by a real baseball club at last.
"I don't know where we are to get our initiation fees," said Joe to his
brother. "I don't suppose you've got any money left?"
"Yes, Joe; father lent me a little," answered Harry. He was glad of a
chance to mention the fact.
"Oh!"
"I can let you have fifty cents," and Harry brought out that sum and
handed it over.
Sunday passed quietly, the majority of the boys going both to church
and Sunday-school. So far Harry had had no chance to get back his
camera and he resolved to go after it on Monday, directly after school.
"I've got an errand to do," he told Joe. "You'll have to get along
without me on the ball field," and he hurried away before his brother
could question him.
It was a long walk to Camdale and Harry was glad enough to "get a lift"
on a farm wagon that happened to be passing, the turnout being driven
by Andy Dugan, the father of Teddy, already introduced.
"Ride be all means, me lad," said Mr. Dugan. "Sure an' 'twill save shoe
leather if nothin' more."
"Thank you, Mr. Dugan."
"It's me son Teddy was tellin' me ye are gittin' up a baseball club,"
went on Andy Dugan, as he whipped up his horse.
"Yes."
"Sure an' ye be great boys. First it was the Gun Club an' now it's a
Baseball Club. Well, if ye have as good luck wid ball playin' as ye had
wid huntin' sure an' it will be foin."
"Did you ever play ball, Mr. Dugan?"
"Jest wanct, lad, jest wanct. It was in the old toimes when they hit a
feller to put him out. I was runnin' fer me loif from base to base whin
the ball took me in the schmall av the back an' bowled me over loike a
noine pin. That give me enough av the game, an' I ain't played since."
"They don't hit the players with the ball any more."
"I know that same, Harry, but I'm too old for the game anyway. It's
Teddy might make a good player. If ye want an extry hand better give
him a trial."
"I'll remember that, Mr. Dugan."
On the outskirts of Camdale the two separated and Harry made his way to
the pawnbroking establishment of Moses Levy. It was located on a side
street, between a saloon and a clothing establishment.
"Vell, mine young friend, vat can I do for you to-day?" questioned the
Jew, coming forward and rubbing his hands.
"I want to get my camera back," answered Harry, briefly, and
surrendered his ticket with the money.
"Ah, you didn't need dot monish long, did you?" said Moses Levy, as he
shuffled back to get the pawned article.
"No."
"You vos more fortunate dan most people. Here you are. Shall I wrap it
up?"
"No," said Harry, and, turning on his heel, he started for the door.
"Ven you vants anudder loan ton't forget Moses Levy," said the Jew. "I
alvays treats you right."
Once outside of the shop, Harry paused to make certain that the camera
was in the same condition as when he had placed it in pawn.
"Hullo there, Harry Westmore, what are you doing in the pawnshop?"
called out a voice close by. A young man had come from the saloon and
was gazing at the boy in curiosity.
Harry looked up and saw the bullying face of Dan Marcy. The fellow was
shabbily dressed and was puffing away at a cheap cigar.
"My business is none of your business, Dan Marcy," said Harry, sharply,
before he had stopped to think twice.
"Oh, you needn't get high-toned," sneered the bully.
"If you don't like my manner don't talk to me."
"Think you are big just because you and your crowd tricked me an'
Skeetles at Pine Island, don't you?" continued Dan Marcy, drawing
closer. "Just let me tell you that I ain't forgettin' that!"
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind what I mean--I ain't forgettin' it, that's all."
"You had better keep your distance. If you don't my folks will have the
law on you, Dan Marcy!"
"Humph! you can't scare me, Harry Westmore. I'm coming back to Lakeport
soon, and then I'll show you what I can do!" muttered the bully, and
then he turned and walked away.
"What a miserable creature he is," thought Harry as he started for
home. "It's too bad that he is coming back to Lakeport. I suppose he
can make a whole lot of trouble if he sets out for it."