A CHANGE OF SIGNALS.
Franklin had various reasons for her self-confidence. Principal among
these was the fact that her team was stronger than ever before. It was
also known that since Dick’s unfortunate injury of his side he had found
it impossible to use the highest speed and the most difficult curves to
any great extent in any game. He was compelled to depend on headwork
rather than curves and speed. But that was not all. Some traitor in the
Fardale camp had betrayed Dick’s signals to the enemy. With the aid of
these signals Merriwell kept his whole team posted on the kind of balls
he was pitching; but now the enemy would be equally well posted. The
batter would know just what was coming, and Franklin felt sure she would
biff the ball all over the field. Still another thing added to the
confidence of the visitors. It had been secretly whispered about that
Nort Madison had fixed things with the umpire. In case the game was
close near the finish, Franklin would get all the favors.
No wonder the visitors marched confidently to Fardale Field. No wonder
those among them who had bet on their team were already planning how
they would spend their winnings.
Never was there a more beautiful day. The air was soft and balmy, and
the sunshine was full of mellowness. All the world was fresh and green.
It was just the day to bring out a great crowd of spectators to witness
a baseball game, and a crowd was present at Fardale Field.
At two o’clock the Franklin players, in their dark-blue suits and red
caps and stockings, entered the inclosure and marched across to their
bench.
Immediately the faithful ones who had accompanied them from Franklin to
Fardale rose and gave them a hearty cheer.
Bat bags were opened, and bats brought forth and arranged in a line on
the ground, in front of the visitors’ bench. These bats were guarded by
a colored boy, who was the mascot of the team. Within three minutes
after entering the inclosure the Franklin players were engaged in
desultory practice.
“Here, Tipton, Knealy,” called Captain Madison; “you fellows get some
batting practice. Take your time about warming up, Westcott. You know
just how much throwing you want to do before the game. How’s that ankle,
Gannon? All right? That support stiffens it, does it? I see you have
fixed your mitt, Dickson. What did you do, take some of the wadding out
of it? Well, you have a fine little pocket in it now. You will never
drop a ball to-day. Here, Colter, go over there and pitch for those
fellows to bat. You know the kind of ball to throw for them. You know
what we’re laying to hit to-day. Is your arm all right, Dustan? Well,
work the stiffness out of it.”
From one to another he went, talking to them and giving them snap and
ginger so that, although, regular practice was not commenced for at
least ten minnues after their appearance on the ground, they went at
their individual efforts with an air of earnestness, which indicated
their vim and determination to leave the field winners.
After a little time, the Fardale players appeared, following at the
heels of their captain. They were greeted with the Fardale cheer.
As the cadets stopped cheering, the leader of the Franklin crowd gave a
signal and the Franklin rooters generously saluted the home team.
Almost instantly the cadets responded with a cheer for Franklin.
“Now one for Merriwell!” said the leader of the Franklin cheerers, and
their ringing salute was finished with Dick’s name thrice repeated.
Even as this was taking place the cadets prepared for a response, and
Nort Madison was given a similar ovation. The enthusiasm and cheering
was something to set the blood dancing, and make all present feel the
unbounded joy and delight of youth. In after years, when time and
fortune had separated them from their schoolfellows, scores of those
boys would think of that day and long again to feel their blood thrill
with the old-time ardent ecstasy.
Happy is the man who bears with him the memory of happy schooldays!
Happy and fortune-favored is the boy who finds himself surrounded with
congenial schoolmates, who takes keen delight in honest sports and
games.
Of course, on this beautiful day a large number of girls from Lakeside
Academy were present in the grand stand. Zona and Doris were there, and
June was with them.
The field practice of the visiting team was of the highest order. In
fact, if anything, Franklin made a better showing than Fardale in
practice. Gardner, who had recovered from his illness, was again in his
old position at short. Obediah Tubbs had a split finger, and, therefore,
his position at second was filled by Hal Darrell. Obed sat on the bench
and looked very sad and downcast because he was not in the game.
Franklin’s team was made up mainly of old players. The battery, however,
was new to Fardale, Westcott, the pitcher, being a handsome,
ruddy-cheeked fellow, with dark eyes and wavy hair. The two teams lined
up as follows:
FRANKLIN. FARDALE.
Dustan, rf. Darrell, 2d b.
Gibbs, 3d b. Black, lf.
Gannon, rf. Flint, rf.
Madison, 1st b. Gardner, ss.
Jarley, ss. Bradley, 3d b.
Knealy, cf. Jolliby, cf.
Tipton, 2d b. Singleton, 1st b.
Dickson, c. Buckhart, c.
Westcott, p. Merriwell, p.
The time for the game to be called came, and the umpire walked onto the
field. Franklin went first to bat, and the home team trotted into their
positions.
Just as the game was about to begin a jolly-faced chap in a new golf
suit, closely followed by a hunchback boy, came onto the ground, and,
regardless of restrictions, proceeded directly to the bench of the home
team. Springing onto this bench, he stood upright and cried:
“I will wager eleventeen thousand dollars on the home team!”
Immediately one of the ground officials hastened toward him and notified
him that he would have to retire from that bench and take his seat on
the bleachers.
“What, me?” exclaimed the chap in a golf suit. “You can’t mean me!
Haven’t you made a mistake? I am Cap’n Wiley, and Richard Merriwell is
an old side partner of mine.”
Immediately Dick called to the official and told him to let the sailor
and his companion remain on the bench.
Standing with his hands on his hips, Brad Buckhart surveyed Wiley and
Abe with unspeakable astonishment.
“Is this yere a dream?” he exclaimed. “Or do my eyes behold the only and
original marine marvel?”
“Ahoy, there, Buck, you magnificent son of the Lone Star State!” cried
the captain, as he made a salute. “It gives my optics a sensation of
delectation to once more behold your sturdy form. Go ahead, boys, and
cut your capers. You will excuse me if I occasionally indulge in a
hornpipe around the bench here.”
“Play ball!” cried the umpire.
“They’re off!” shouted Wiley. “Let the excitement sizzle!”
Dick gave a sudden hitch at his trousers with one hand and then pitched
the ball.
It was a rise.
Dustan was prepared for it, and the bat met the ball with a resounding
crack.
“Ah!” cried the Franklin spectators.
It was a clean two-bagger.
“Here we go!” laughed Nort Madison, dancing round on the coaching line.
“Get a lead, Dustan! We’ll jump into this game and win it at the start!”
Gibbs, a stocky-looking chap, was the next hitter.
Dick settled his right foot on the ground with a jerking movement and
delivered a sharp inshoot.
Almost before the ball left Merriwell’s hands Gibbs fell back a little
from the plate, and he, like Dustan, met it fairly and squarely.
It was a single to right field, and Dustan, having a good lead off
second, literally flew over third on his way toward the home plate.
Dave Flint secured the ball and did his best to stop a score. On that
throw to the plate Gibbs took second.
Dustan made a beautiful slide and was safe.
How the Franklin crowd did cheer! This was the sort of work to delight
them. Only two men had faced Merriwell. Only two balls had been pitched,
yet two clean hits and a score was the result.
“Got ’em on the run! Got ’em on the run!” cried Madison. “Keep it going,
Gannon! We might as well make a hundred in the first inning!”
To confess the truth, Dick had been surprised by the manner in which the
visitors started off. He knew Gannon was a clever hitter, and there
seemed every prospect that another score, at least, would be made by the
enemy before Fardale could check them.
“It’s all right, Merriwell!” declared big Bob Singleton. “Accidents will
happen!”
“Bet they don’t know ’ow they did hit!” said Billy Bradley.
There was on Dick’s face a grim look of determination. He was determined
to prevent Gannon from following up the hitting. Giving a sudden hitch
at his waistband with both hands, he whistled the combination ball over
the plate.
Gannon fouled it.
“You touched him, Gan, old boy!” cried Madison. “Let him try that
again!”
Young Merriwell lifted both hands above his head and then seemed to
throw one that was bound to pass over the very centre of the plate.
Gannon stood without moving his bat, and the ball took a sudden
outcurve.
“One ball!” was the umpire’s decision.
“Make him put ’em over, Gan!” urged Madison.
The batter nodded.
An inshoot followed, but it was too close to be a strike, and Gannon
simply let it pass, falling back slightly from the plate.
“Two balls!”
“He can’t fool you that way!” declared the Franklin captain laughingly.
“Your eye is peeled to-day, old man.”
A high ball followed, and once more Gannon refused to go after it.
“Got him in a hole!” was the cry.
Naturally Gannon would not strike at the next one, and Dick knew it,
therefore he used a speedy one, sending it straight over the plate. The
batter hit it, and the ball went zipping along the ground, Darrell
failing to touch it by scarcely more than an inch.
Gibbs landed on third.
Nort Madison himself was the next batter.
“Well! well! well!” shouted Dickson, who was near third. “We win this
game right here!”
Little Abe sat with his hands clasped, his face showing his intense
anxiety and excitement.
“What’s the matter, cap’n?” he asked. “Are they really winning the
game?”
“Well, if there’s not a change in things pretty quick, it looks as if
they might,” confessed the sailor. “I expected to arrive here before
this old game started. Had I done so, I would have warned Richard
Merriwell to cut out those signals. Every batter knows just what he is
going to throw. That’s why they are hitting him this way.”
Madison missed the first ball. The next one was wide, and he let it
pass. The third was a drop, and he drove it far into the outfield.
Jolliby made a desperate run and a wonderful one-hand catch.
Knowing the ability of Fardale’s centre-fielder, Gibbs had stuck close
by third. When the ball fell into Jolliby’s hands Gibbs scooted for the
plate.
Chip made a magnificent throw into Buckhart’s hands, but failed to stop
the score.
“Rah! rah! rah!” cheered the Franklin crowd.
“Well, brand me good and deep if this doesn’t beat anything I ever saw!”
growled Buckhart, in deep disgust.
Dick advanced to the plate and the Texan met him in front of it.
“We’ve got to stop this hitting streak right away, Brad,” said the
Fardale captain. “There’s something wrong.”
“Sure thing, pard,” nodded Buckhart; “but whatever it is I can’t make
out.”
“The signs of the times are altogether too apparent!” shouted Cap’n
Wiley.
Dick gave a slight start as he heard these words.
“You signal, Brad,” he instantly said. “No matter what sort of a signal
I make, I will take your sign for the ball.”
Then they returned to their positions.
Dick received a sign for a drop from the Texan, but gave a hitch at his
trousers with his hand, which meant under ordinary circumstances that he
would use a rise.
He threw a drop.
Jarley struck over it at least eighteen inches and looked surprised.
“The signs of the times are not so apparent!” chirped Wiley from the
bench, a grin of delight overspreading his swarthy face.
When the ball was returned to Dick, he held it with both hands and
lifted it above his head, which was his usual signal for an outcurve.
At the same time Brad gave him a sign calling for a straight ball.
Dick threw a straight one.
Jarley leaned forward and swung at it, expecting it would curve over the
outside corner. Instead the ball struck the bat close to his fingers and
went bounding slowly and weakly down to Merriwell, who easily picked it
up and tossed it over to Singleton for an “out.”
“The tempest has abated,” chuckled Wiley. “It is growing calmer.”
Knealy, the next hitter, watched Dick’s signals closely, and, to his
surprise, every ball delivered took a curve he did not anticipate. The
result was that he struck out in short order, and Franklin was retired
with two runs in the first inning.