AGAINST TEN MEN.
“Ah! ha! Richard Merriwell,” exclaimed Wiley, as he grasped Dick’s hand.
“It thrills my palpitating organism to again press your perspiring
palm.”
“How does it happen that you are here, Wiley?” Dick asked.
“The tale is one too long to unfold under such agitating circumstances.
Suffice it to say that men with evil ways have looked with covetous eyes
on my friend Abe, and your brother decided that it was expedient that we
should waft ourselves thitherward to a region of safety. He will follow.
It’s possible that he may arrive to-morrow, or even to-night.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Dick delightedly. “Frank coming so soon?”
“Do you doubt my veracity? The mere thought that any one could suspect
me of a falsehood pains me keenly. Truth—I love it! Truth—I adore it!
This is easily understood, for you know familiarity breeds contempt.”
“What did you mean a few moments ago when you spoke of the signs of the
times?” asked Dick.
“By chance this day I took passage on the craft by which your opponents
made this port. I heard them discussing, among themselves, certain
things. I heard them talking over the fact that you habitually gave your
signals from the box when pitching. It seems that here at Fardale you
have a traitor whose name is Arlington. This chap has betrayed you to
Franklin. He has given away your signals. That was why those first
batters hit you so expertly. They knew exactly what was coming, and,
therefore, they placed the stick against the sphere with firmness and
precision. Had you continued to use those signs there is no telling how
many runs they would have made.”
“Did you hear them say Arlington was the traitor?” asked Dick.
“I heard his name mentioned.”
“That’s enough, pard!” growled Buckhart savagely. “You can see what sort
of a reformer he is. There’s not a decent bone in his whole onery body!
You hear me warble!”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” admitted Dick.
Although Fardale made a strong bid for a run in the first inning,
Darrell leading off with a hit, and finally reaching third, the pitching
of Westcott was of such a puzzling nature that the following batters
could not drive Hal home. Bradley was the third man out, being retired
on an easy pop fly to the infield.
While this was taking place Dick had informed his players that he would
continue to signal from the box, but that his signals would mean
nothing, as it was his intention to follow the signs made by Buckhart.
This plan proved most baffling to Franklin in the second inning, for
when a batter expected a drop he was certain to get a rise, an outcurve,
or something entirely different than he anticipated. Only one man of the
three who faced Merriwell touched the ball at all. This was Dickson, who
fouled by accident.
As Merriwell easily struck out Westcott, the cadets rose and cheered.
Chester Arlington was with them, and he seemed to join heartily in this
cheering. Apparently no one was more delighted than he. In case he was
the traitor, he was playing the hypocrite well.
“What’s the matter, captain?” asked Westcott, as Franklin took the
field. “We’re not touching Merriwell now.”
“There’s something wrong,” answered Nort Madison. “He has changed his
signals.”
“Why do you suppose he did it?”
“He must have tumbled to the fact that we were onto them. There’s no
other explanation. This is going to be a hard game, but we are two runs
to the good. We must hold Fardale down. Pitch for your life, old man!”
Never had Westcott pitched more cleverly. Jolliby lifted a foul back of
first base, and Madison gathered it in.
“One!” counted the visiting spectators, in unison.
Singleton did his best to get a hit, but finally struck out on a high
drop that fell past his shoulders.
“Two!” chorused the Franklin crowd.
“Let me get at him!” muttered Buckhart. “Let’s see if he can fan me that
way!”
“Don’t swing your head off,” advised Dick. “Try for a safe single.”
In attempting to follow this advice, Brad missed twice. The delight of
the visitors over this annoyed him. He set his teeth, and his eyes took
on a steely gleam.
With all his strength the Texan cracked out a long high liner to left
field, but it was caught.
“Three!” roared the Franklin crowd.
Buckhart had reached first, and he walked back, growling his disgust.
“This is now a most salubrious little game!” chuckled Wiley. “Why, these
youngsters know how to play baseball! What’s the matter with you, Abe?
What are you staring that way for?”
The hunchback drew closer to his companion on the bench.
“There’s a man over there who is watching me,” he answered.
“Over where?”
“Over there in that crowd. I saw him in front of the hotel.”
“Point him out.”
“I can’t now. He has disappeared.”
“What did he look like?”
“He has a sandy beard, and is dressed in a brown suit.”
“Abe, my boy, you’re dreaming. You’re nervous. Forget it, Abe. Your
enemies are far away. We have fooled them handsomely.”
“Perhaps so; but I am afraid, cap’n, they are near. Something tells me
they are near.”
“Well, just you linger by my side, and you will be all right. Have no
fear of the minions of iniquity, for my good right arm will defend you
to the extremest extremity. I have vowed to Frank that never again shall
harm befall you while you are in my charge. And Little Walter always
makes good.”
Although the boy tried to throw off the feeling of apprehension that
weighed heavily upon him, he was unable to do so.
The head of Franklin’s batting list again came up in the third inning.
Dustan had started off at first with a beautiful hit, and he tried to
repeat the performance. This time, however, he, like those before him,
was handsomely fooled by Merriwell’s curves, and he cast down his bat in
disgust, on striking out.
“This is getting monotonous for us, captain!” cried Darrell. “You’re not
giving us anything to do. Do let them hit it once in a while.”
“Don’t worry!” retorted Nort Madison. “We’ll get after him again before
long.”
“Pay no attention to his signals, Gibbs,” advised Dustan in a low tone,
as the second batter walked out to the plate.
Gibbs did not find this easy to do, but he finally succeeded in hitting
a furious grounder past Dick. Darrell went for it and made one of his
phenomenal pick-ups, electrifying the cadets and bringing a shout of joy
from their lips as he tossed the ball to Singleton and put Gibbs out.
Gannon was desperate after having two strikes called on him, and he
managed to throw out his elbow at an inshoot so that it was hit by the
ball.
“What do you think of that, Mr. Umpire?” exclaimed Dick. “You saw him do
it!”
The umpire paid no attention to Dick, but motioned for Gannon to take
first.
“You can see what you’re up against!” cried Wiley.
By this time Madison had lost his jovial humor, and at once he
exclaimed:
“Keep that man still on the bench, or have him put off, Mr. Umpire!”
“You will have to keep still there!” said the umpire, with a motion
toward the sailor.
“For me that will be a most difficult task,” muttered Wiley. “I am
afraid I shall explode if I try it.”
Madison fouled the second ball pitched and followed this up by driving
the third one straight at Gardner. The ball was twisting fiercely when
it struck Earl’s hands, and he failed to hold it. By the time he had
recovered it Gannon was on second and Madison close to first. Earl did
not throw to Singleton.
“Rotten!” he muttered, his face flushing.
“That’s all right, old man,” assured Dick. “Don’t worry about that.”
Madison hopped about near first, slapping his knee and laughing.
“Got ’em going again, fellows!” he cried. “Keep it up, Jarley, my boy!
They are rattled!”
“I wish I thought it!” squeaked Obediah Tubbs from the bench.
Dick worked carefully with Jarley, getting two strikes on him, while two
balls had also been called. He then put a speedy one over the inside
corner, but the umpire declared it a ball.
Buckhart signaled for a drop. Dick threw the ball so it seemed as if it
must pass the plate higher than Jarley’s head. It was a magnificent
sharp drop, and cut down across the batter’s shoulders.
Jarley let it pass.
“Take your base!” directed the umpire.
“Robbery!” whooped Wiley. “That was a beaut!”
The umpire gave him a look.
“Forget it! Forget it!” growled the sailor in a low tone. “I am onto
your tricks!”
The bases were now filled, and Knealy was at the bat.
“A little single, Knealy, old huckleberry!” cried Madison from second.
“That’s all you want!”
“Dern his picter! he will never get it!” squealed Obediah Tubbs.
In a few moments, however, it began to look as if a run might be forced
in. Although Dick “cut the corners,” the umpire refused to call strikes,
and three balls in succession were declared.
This was too much for Dick, who turned on the umpire, asking in a low
tone:
“What’s your price for this job?”
“What’s that?” fiercely demanded the fellow. “Are you offering to buy
me?”
“On the contrary, I am wondering how much you get.”
“You play ball!” was the angry command. “You’re getting all that’s
coming to you!”
“Look here, Madison,” said Dick; “you’re in a position where you can
see. I want you to watch this business.”
“Oh, don’t insinuate!” retorted Madison. “Isn’t this your own umpire?”
“Selected at your special request,” reminded Dick. “I don’t forget
that!”
“You play ball!” again commanded the umpire. “You’re delaying the game,
and I shall call strikes on you.”
Immediately Dick sent a straight speedy one over the plate, about waist
high. The umpire was compelled to declare it a strike. Merriwell
followed it by another in the same place.
“Two strikes!” said the umpire, after a moment’s hesitation.
“Strike him out, Merriwell!” shouted the cadets.
Dick whistled the next ball straight over, just a little lower than the
batter’s shoulders. The batter crouched and let it pass.
“Four balls; take your base!” directed the umpire, and Gannon was forced
home.
“What do you think about that, Madison?” asked Dick.
“It was high,” instantly asserted the captain of the visiting team, as
he trotted up to third base.
“We’re up against ten men, pard!” shouted Buckhart.
The cadets on the bleachers expressed their feelings by groans and
hisses for the umpire.
“Dern his picter! he better be keerful!” squeaked Obediah Tubbs. “This
is a putty bad place for him to try them tricks!”
“That’s right!” sneered Madison, nodding toward the Fardale crowd. “Do
your best to intimidate the umpire! That’s the way to play baseball!
That’s a fine sort of a game!”
Dick now decided to take all chances of being hit and use a straight
ball. This he did with splendid control, sending it over the very heart
of the plate.
The disapprobation of the cadets had caused the umpire to look a trifle
nervous, and he declared the first two balls pitched to be strikes,
although Tipton let both pass.
“Now, are you satisfied?” demanded Madison. “You have bulldozed the
umpire so he is giving you everything.”
Dick made no response, but whistled over another straight one. Tipton
hit it, and the ball rose high into the air.
Gardner ran back for it; while Darrell also seemed determined to get
under it.
“Gardner! Gardner!” called Dick sharply. “Take it, Earl!”
The ball fell into Earl’s hands, while Hal crouched low close behind
him.
Earl muffed the ball.
“Ah!” burst from the Franklin crowd.
The ball fell into Darrell’s hands, and he held it.
“Ah!” roared the Fardale crowd.
Up in the grand stand Doris Templeton embraced June, giving her a hug of
joy.
“Hal did it!” she breathed.
“That was splendid!” agreed June.
“Oh, I don’t think it was such a wonderful thing!” declared Zona. “It
just fell right into his hands, and he couldn’t help holding it.”
Doris gave her a resentful look.
Dick waited for Hal and walked in to the bench with him.