READY STEADY.
Merriwell saw that Ready could not catch for Buck Badger. There was such
an utter absence of anything like team-work that there seemed to be
little hope that the game could be won by Merriwell's nine if the
battery was not changed. Badger could pitch like a wonder at times, but
he rattled Ready, who, as a rule, and in regard to other matters, was as
steady as a clock. Ready simply could not do himself justice with Badger
in the box. He felt it as well as Merriwell, but he doggedly continued,
determined at all events to do his best. Ready was a fellow of infinite
pluck, and usually a fellow of infinite confidence. He would have had
confidence now, but there was not a thing to build his confidence on.
Merriwell's nine scored four times before it was forced again into the
field. Frank sent Badger into the box again, after talking with him
awhile.
"You rattle Ready, some way!" Frank told him. "Throw those in curves
more, and work in your dropped balls when you can. They get your out
curves."
Then, before playing again, he had a few words with Ready.
The first man at the bat got a hit, while the next man took first on
balls. The next man at the bat knocked a fly into the hands of Danny
Griswold, who was playing short-stop, and the base-runners came back to
their places.
Then the men on bases tried to make a double steal, which was partially
successful. The fellow on second reached third, but the runner behind
him was cut off at second by a throw from Ready. Jack should have thrown
to third, but he did not. He threw low to second, and Diamond got it on
the bound, touching the runner as that individual was making a desperate
slide.
Two men were out, and Frank hoped that Badger would keep the visitors
from scoring. Buck might have done so, but somehow he "crossed signals"
with Jack, the result being a passed ball that let in a score.
"I'm hot stuff," chirped Ready, as he found Frank back at the bench of
the home team. "When I don't fail, I succeed."
"I see you do," answered Frank dryly. "You succeeded in letting in that
run."
"Our wires got crossed. Badge gave me an in when I was looking for an
out. If you'll put in a pitcher who can throw a curve, I'll surprise
you."
"Does Badger rattle you?"
"Refuse me! I think I rattle him."
There was no time for further talk, and the game went on. Buck was
nervous, and Frank pitied him, for he could see that the Westerner might
do well with a good catcher behind the bat. Just then Merry did not know
of a man to put in Ready's place, for he could see that the Westerner's
great speed and queer delivery might be too much for any green catcher
who was not used to him.
"Yes," muttered Frank, "the loss of Hodge is the handicap that will
cause us to lose the game--if we lose it."
The next man got first on balls, and then the following batter lifted a
high foul. Ready got under it, and the Hartfords were retired at last.
"We're done up, Merry," said Rattleton, as the men came in.
"Not yet, old man," declared Frank cheerfully. "I think I'll go behind
the bat myself next inning."
"Don't do it!" exclaimed Harry. "I know you can play any old position,
Merry, but your place is in the box. With you there, every man on the
team will play like a streak. Won't you go in?"
"Badger----"
"Can see that he is bound to lose the game if this keeps on. He's got
sense. He won't want to make such a bad record for himself."
"Ready will not be able to judge the double-shoot. I can't use that."
"You won't have to. You can win this game without it."
"I don't know."
"I do! Try it."
Frank was in doubt, and he permitted Badger to pitch one more inning.
The Westerner worked hard, but it was plain he had lost confidence, and
he was not at his best. Great beads of perspiration stood out on his
face. Two men scored, despite him, and the visitors had the lead again.
"I believe I'll try it in the box," Frank mentally decided. "Perhaps I
may hold Ready steady. It looks like the only show to win out."
When Merriwell finally went into the box, seeing that it must be done,
Badger retired with as good grace as he could, though his dark face was
flushed.
"There would be no trouble if it wasn't for Jack Ready!" he asserted. "I
can pitch all right, but the pitcher isn't the whole battery!"
"Your delivery bothers him," Merriwell explained. "I believe that you
two together are capable of good work, but it will take a lot more
practise, and just now we haven't time for practise. You can pitch,
Badger, and your best is excellent; but you are irregular. But you'll
come round all right. I was talking with Dunstan Kirk about you awhile
ago, and he agrees with me. He has been closely watching you all through
the game."
"I know it," Badger growled. "I've known it only too well! It has helped
to make my pitching wild at times. If he had stayed away, I think I
could have done all right all the time. But you'll find that Ready will
worry you. He'd worry anybody. The fellow simply can't catch."
"But he can!" Merriwell insisted. "We'll win this game yet!"
The change that came over Jack Ready's work shortly after Merriwell went
into the pitcher's box was little short of marvelous. Frank seemed to
know how to favor Ready's weak points. And this kept Ready's head steady
for other work, so that he made not another wild throw to bases.
Merriwell's nine began to feel their courage rise. It put life into them
just to see Frank in the box. Stolen bases on the part of the Hartfords
stopped. The swiftness with which Merriwell struck out three batters
made the spectators gasp.
From that on Ready was steady, and he and Frank worked together like a
battery team of long experience. Frank Merriwell won, in spite of his
handicap! And so the Yale rooters, and especially Merriwell's friends
and admirers, who were a host in themselves, were roaring wild as they
returned from the ball-ground. Merriwell joined Inza and Elsie, while
Badger took a car with Winnie.
"I knew that everything was all right, as soon as you went into the
box!" Inza declared. "But up to that minute I was nervous. I was wanting
to shake you all the time for not taking Badger's place sooner."
"I felt sorry for Badger," said Elsie. "And I felt sorry for Winnie. She
got as red as a beet when Badger left the box, but I know she didn't
blame you, Frank. She saw just how it was, and she knew you ought to
have gone in sooner, but of course she felt it."
"I was afraid Ready might begin to doubt his own abilities--though
probably there is not any danger that he will ever do that! He was just
what I expected of him, though, when I pitched. And if Badger and Bart
were friends and could, or would, work together, they would make a good
battery."
"You will have to coach Badger some," Inza suggested.
"Yes. The captain of the ball-team wants me to. He thinks there is good
stuff in both of them, if it can only be properly developed."
The three got out at a transfer station, and waited for another car.
"Dere she comes!" yelled an excited youngster.
The "she" he referred to was not the expected car, but the head of a
circus procession, which was parading the principal streets as an
advertisement of the performances to be given in the big tents in the
suburbs that afternoon and night.
Merriwell and the girls looked in the direction indicated. The crowd at
the corner seemed to become thicker. People began to swarm out of the
doorways and stream out into the middle of the street.
"And this is scholarly New Haven!" exclaimed Inza. "Wild over a circus
parade!"
"We're not in the scholarly part of New Haven!" laughed Frank. "I
confess that I like to see a circus parade myself!"
Inza showed evidences that she liked the same thing, for she craned her
handsome neck and stood on tiptoe to catch the first glimpse. The
nodding plumes on the heads of the horses drawing the gilded band-wagon
came into view, and at the same moment the band began to crash forth its
resonant music. Children danced and capered, heads were popped out of
second-story windows, and the pushing crowd grew denser.
The band-wagon came slowly down the street in the bright spring
sunshine, followed by the performers, mounted on well-groomed horses,
some of which were beautifully mottled. There were other horses, many of
them--a few drawing chariots, driven by Amazons. Then came the funny
clown, in his little cart, with his jokes and grimaces for the children.
There was another band-wagon, as gorgeous as the first, at the head of
the procession of wild-beast cages. Its music was more deafening than
that of the other. The street-cars seemed to have stopped running, owing
to the packed crowds, and Frank and his girl friends remained on the
corner curiously watching the scene.
Suddenly a fractious horse jerked away from the man who had been
standing at its head holding it, and whirling short about,
half-overturned the wagon to which it was hitched and raced wildly down
the street. People scattered in every direction, several being knocked
down in the stampeding rush.
The horse climbed to the sidewalk, with wheels bumping the curbing,
trying to get out of the way of some men who were seeking to stop it.
Almost before they were aware of it, horse and wagon seemed fairly on
top of Merriwell and the girls. Elsie gave a startled cry, and dashed
across the street, where the people were falling back out of the way,
with women pulling nervously and excitedly at their children.
A child fell headlong, and the horse seemed about to stamp it, when
Frank, with a quick leap, picked it up from under the very feet of the
runaway, and dropped it safely at its mother's side. Then a tremendous
roar ascended. Turning, Frank saw that Inza and Elsie had disappeared.
He did not at first know the cause of the roar.
The horse, veering again and wheeling sharply, had hurled the wagon
against a cage in which was confined a full-grown tiger. This was an
open cage--that is, the screening, wooden, outer shell had been removed,
showing the big beast of the jungle, with its keeper in circus costume,
seated in the center of the cage on a low stool.
Against the door of this cage the bounding wagon had struck heavily--so
heavily that the lock was torn away or broken, and the cage door pulled
open. The roar that went up was a roar of alarm and fright. And it
increased in intensity when the striped beast, with nervously flicking
tail, leaped past its keeper and into the street, where it crouched, not
knowing what to do with its newly found freedom.
The street was in the wildest tumult. The horses drawing the cage had
been brought to a stop by the driver. But another horse, frightened by
the din and the runaway, broke loose just at that time, and came tearing
along, with flaming eyes and distended nostrils, like a Malay running
amuck.
Frank sprang toward the head of this horse, for the peril to the
stampeding people seemed great. But the animal veered and passed by,
dragging Merry a few yards by the shafts and hurling him to the ground.
The sight he beheld as he scrambled up was enough to stop the beating of
his heart. Inza and Elsie had tried to again cross the street. Inza had
been knocked down by the horse, and lay unconscious, while Elsie had
been swept on in the crowd. More than that, the keeper of the tiger, who
had courageously leaped after the terrible beast with his spearlike iron
goad, hoping to be able to prod and cow it into subjection, had been
knocked flat also by the horse, his iron goad flying out of his hand and
into the street.
Though Frank was some distance away, he started toward the tiger, which
had crouched and seemed about to spring on Inza. But before he could
take a step, he saw Elsie run from the crowd toward Inza and the tiger.
Her face was very white, but it was filled with the look of high courage
which inspired her. She realized the peril of any attempt she could make
to save Inza, and she boldly took the risk.
A hundred voices were screaming at the big brute, which crouched with
undulating tail and open jaws; but not another person seemed to be
moving toward Elsie to render her assistance, with the exception of
Frank Merriwell.
He saw the girl pick up the iron goad. Then Elsie Bellwood leaped
between the tiger and Inza. As she did so she lifted the goad. The tiger
turned its attention from Inza to Elsie, and the latter struck at it, as
if the goad were a spear.
Frank Merriwell heard the click of a revolver at his side. He saw a man
shakily lifting it.
"Permit me!" he gasped, and plucked it from the man's hand.
The revolver went up, flashing for a moment in the sunshine. A quick,
sharp report rang out. The bullet, sent with true and steady aim, by the
hand of Frank Merriwell, ploughed through the tiger's brain, and the
beast flattened out convulsively, and began to kick and writhe in its
death agonies.
Hearing the report and seeing the animal fall, Elsie's uplifted hand
fell, she swayed like a wind-blown vine, and dropped heavily down across
the form of Inza Burrage.