"I'll take Reddy," said Dicky;
"Sammy," said Fatty;
"Skinny," chose Dicky next;
"Froggy Waters," chose Fatty--and poor little Marmaduke was left to
the last, as if he were the worst player in the whole world.
"Well," said Dicky, "I spouse I've _got_ to take him. But he'll
lose the game for us."
He turned to Marmaduke.
"I'll tell you what, Marmy," he said, "you can be the spectators--a
whole pile of them--in the grand stand. Wouldn't you like to be a
grand stand? That's great. Isn't it, fellows?"
"Sure," they all said, grinning, but Marmaduke didn't want to be any
spectator, not even a grand stand. He wanted to be doing things, not
watching. Lose that game, would he? No, he'd show them, he'd win it
instead. He'd hit that ball clean over the fence--so far they'd never
find it. But whew! That wouldn't do. He'd better not hit it quite so
far or he'd lose his dandy Rocket ball.
But they had to give in and let him play before he would give them
that ball. Then the two captains told their men to take their
positions.
"I'll pitch," declared Dicky, "'n Reddy'll catch. Skinny you play
'first,' and Marmaduke out in the field. You kin go to sleep, too, for
all I care--for you can't catch anything even if you had a peach
basket to hold it in."
"Play ball!" shouted Fatty, and they all took their places, Dicky's
team in the field, and Fatty's at the bat.
Marmaduke had to stand way out, and he didn't have much to do for a
while, for the other team either struck out, or hit the ball towards
Dicky, the pitcher, or Skinny at 'first.' Once a ball did come his way
"Hold it!" shouted Dicky, but Marmaduke was so excited that he threw
himself right at it, and the ball rolled between his legs.
"Aw! didn't I tell you?" said Dicky in disgust, and all on the other
team shouted:
"Butterfingers!"
And, as every boy in the world knows, it is a great disgrace to be
called "Butterfingers."
When the first inning was over the score stood six to five, and
Fatty's team was ahead.
In the next inning the ball never once came towards Marmaduke, way out
there in the field. All he could do was to watch the other boys catch
the "pop-flies," stop the grounders, or run back and forth between
first base and home. It was hard, too, when Marmaduke wanted so much
to be in the thick of it.
Before long the score stood seventeen to fifteen, still in favor of
Fatty's team. At last they were put out, and it was Marmaduke's turn
to bat. If he could only knock a home run it would bring Skinny in and
tie the score.
"Strike one!" called Sammy, who was catching.
Marmaduke swung at the next one too wildly.
"Strike two!"