Batting to Win: A Story of College Baseball
CHAPTER XXXII
A PERILOUS CROSSING
Sid hurried on, his thoughts in a wild tumult. In his pocket was a notefrom Dr. Churchill, restoring him to all his rights and privileges. Sidhad asked for it, lest Boxer Hall protest his entrance into the game atthe last minute, for Sid was fully determined to play, and help his teamto win. He knew he was in good form, for he had not neglected practice.
"If I can catch the next car," he thought, "I'll be in time." Then, ashe caught sight of something yellow through the trees on the banks ofSunny river, along which the electric line extended, he exclaimed:
"There's a car, now! I'll have to sprint for it. Glad I didn't stop toget my suit. I can borrow one from a sub when I get there, I guess." Hebroke into a run, but noted, curiously, that the car did not seem to bemoving very fast. Then, as he made the turn in the road, he saw that itwas standing still, and that a number of the passengers were walkingabout, idly. "Must have had a fuse blow out, or a hot box, and they'rewaiting to cool it," he mused. "Lucky for me, as the electrics don't runvery often from now on."
Sid dropped into a walk, and was soon at the stalled car.
"What's the matter?" asked the second baseman of the motorman, who wassitting on a grassy bank, idly chopping at a stone with his controllerhandle.
"Power's off."
"For long?" asked Sid, his heart thumping under his ribs.
"Hard to say. It's been off nearly an hour now, and the conductor justtelephoned in, and they said it might be an hour more."
"An hour more! Then I can't get to Boxer Hall in time for the game."
The motorman looked quizzically at Sid.
"Not unless you walk, or hire an auto," he remarked, and fell again tohammering the stone. The other passengers were fretting, complaining, oraccepting the situation philosophically, as befitted their natures. Sidmade up his mind quickly.
"I can walk to Fordham junction, and take the train," he decided. "FromBendleton, which is the nearest railroad station to Boxer Hall, it'sonly two miles. Maybe I can run it in time, or perhaps I'll meet someone who will give me a lift. Anyway, that's my best chance. I'll do it,"and, with a final glance at the stalled car, hoping he might see theflashing up of the lights on it, which would tell of the power beingturned on, Sid turned and made off toward the distant railroad station.
As the janitor had informed Sid, Tom and the other ball players,including the substitutes, had made an early start in a largeautomobile, carrying twenty passengers. It was of the type known as a"rubber-neck," from the fact that they are used in big cities to takevisitors to the scenes of interest, there to "rubber," or stretch theirnecks in gazing aloft.
"See anything of Sid, as you came away?" asked Holly Cross, who satbeside Tom and Phil, as the auto swayed along.
"No," answered Tom briefly. "I fancy he's left for good. Poor old Sid!Isn't it a shame that he went to pieces as he did? If we only had himnow our chances would be brighter."
"Would you play him if he came along?" asked Phil.
"Of course--provided I could--that he was in good standing so Boxer Hallcouldn't protest. But what's the use of talking?"
"Is he in good form, captain?" asked Bricktop.
"Sid never goes stale," answered Tom. "Besides, with his ability toslice a ball to right or left field in a pinch, hitting right and lefthanded as he does, it would be just great for us to-day."
"Still worrying?" asked Phil.
"Of course. So would you, if you were in my place. Don't you know whatthis game means to us?"
"Sure we do, me lad," answered Bricktop, kindly. "But say this over toyourself a few times and you'll feel better. 'Tis a proverb of me oldIrish ancestors. 'Soft an' aisy goes far in a day,' that's it. 'Softand aisy goes far in a day.' Remember that, Tommy, me lad, and take it'aisy' as the good Irish say. We'll win--never fear--we'll win."
There was talk and laughter, serious conversation and much chaffing asthe auto rumbled along. They had started early and thought they wouldhave plenty of time, but something went wrong with the steering gearonce, and a second time the water in the radiator needed replenishing,so that with the delays it left the players with no more than time toget to Boxer Hall in season for the game, and left hardly any time forpractice.
"Hadn't you better hit up the pace a little, my friend," suggested Mr.Leighton to the chauffeur.
"I will, yes, sir," was the answer, and the big car did make bettertime, for it was on a good road. The team fell to laughing and jokingagain, but suddenly stopped, as the auto once more came to a halt justbefore crossing Pendleton river, a stream somewhat larger than Sunnyriver, and intercepting the main road between the two colleges.
"What's up now?" asked Tom.
"The drawbridge is open," replied the chauffeur.
The players stood up and looked across the river. The draw, which wasnecessary on account of a number of sailboats on the stream, was swung,making an impassable gap, for the stream at that point was swift anddeep. Some men were seen on the middle of the bridge.
"What's the matter? Why don't you swing shut that bridge?" yelled Phil.
"Can't," answered one of the men.
"Why not?"
"The machinery that operates the draw is broken. We swung the bridgeopen to let a boat pass, and now we can't close it again. We've sent forsome mechanics to repair it."
"How long will it take?" yelled Tom.
"Oh, not long. Two or three hours, maybe."
"Two or three hours! Great smokestacks!" howled Tom. "That will be toolate for us. We can't get to the game on time!"
"Of course not!" agreed Holly Cross. "And Boxer Hall will be just meanenough to call a forfeit, and claim the championship!"
"Say, you've got to swing this bridge shut, and let us pass!" sung outPhil.
"Can't!" yelled the men who were on the bridge, marooned as it were."We've tried, but it won't budge."
"What's to be done?" asked Jerry Jackson.
"Yes, what's to be done?" echoed his twin brother.
"Guess we'll have to swim for it," suggested Dutch Housenlager. "Thatis, unless Grasshopper Backus can jump over with us on his back, one ata time."
But, though they could joke over the situation, they all knew that itwas serious. The time was drawing close, and they were still somedistance from Boxer Hall. Further inquiry of the men on the bridge didnot help matters, nor did the fuming and fretting of Tom and his chums.
"Can't you suggest a plan?" asked Mr. Leighton of the chauffeur.
"Well, there's another bridge about five miles below here."
"That's too far. Ten miles out of our way. Time we went there, and gotback it would be too late. Boxer Hall would claim the game. Can nothingbe done?" and the coach looked at the swiftly swirling river. At thatmoment a man driving a mule hitched to a buckboard came along. He tookin the situation at a glance.
"Stuck, eh?" he remarked sympathetically.
"That's what," replied Bricktop Molloy. "Maybe ye happen t' be a fairy,Mr. Man, an' can help us across."
"Why don't you try the ford?" asked the man.
"Ford? We didn't know there was one," said Tom.
"Sure there is. About half a mile below here. It's where the river isshallow, and many's the time I've driven across before this bridge wasbuilt. The water's a leetle high now, but I guess your ark could makeit. Will it go in water?"
"If it's not too deep, and there's good bottom," was the chauffeur'sanswer.
"Oh, it's good bottom, but, as I say, it's a trifle deep."
"Try it, anyhow," suggested Tom. "It's our only chance. Go ahead."
This was the sentiment of all, and the players getting into their seatsagain, which they had left to gaze at the river, the auto was backed up,and headed for the ford, the man with the buckboard going in advance toshow the way.
As he had said, the water was rather high, and it seemed to swirl alongdangerously fast. He would not venture in with his mule, but, after alook at it the chauffeur said he would try it.
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"I'll be all right," he announced, "if the water doesn't come up highenough to short-circuit the batteries or the magneto."
"Let her go!" cried Tom.
Backing up, to get a good start down the slope that led to the ford, thechauffeur turned on full speed. Into the river went the big auto, withits heavy load. The water splashed up in a spray as the front wheels,with the big tires, struck the limpid surface. A moment later the entiremachine was in the water, submerged to the hubs.
"It's all right! Go on! Go on!" urged the man with the mule. "It won'tbe much deeper than that."
"If it is we're done for," remarked the chauffeur in a low voice.
It was a perilous passage, but the Randall nine was too anxious over theconsequences of delay to mind that much. The man in charge of the autowas rather white-faced, but he gripped the steering wheel, and kept onhigh speed, though he throttled down the engine a trifle as he nearedthe middle of the river. The big machine careened dangerously, andseveral clung instinctively to the sides.
"Can you make it?" asked Mr. Leighton anxiously.
"I don't know," replied the chauffeur, as he peered at a bit of smoothwater directly ahead. It looked to be deep, and he was contemplatingturning to one side, though their guide had warned him to steer straightfor the other side.
"Keep on! Keep on!" cried the man with the mule encouragingly. "Straightahead, and you'll be safe!"
The chauffeur yanked the gasolene lever over the rachet, opening thethrottle wider, and the car shot forward at increased speed. It swayed,and seemed about to topple over, righted itself, almost like a thingalive, and then, with a crunching of gravel, was out of the stream, andclimbing the slope that led from the ford to the road.
"By Jove! I'm glad we're over that!" exclaimed Tom, with a sigh ofrelief. "Speed her up now, and get us to Boxer Hall!"
Half an hour later the players were on the diamond, being received by acrowd of their friends who had preceded them to the game earlier in theday, for the last game of the season was a gala affair, and the Randalllads usually came over to Boxer Hall early in the morning.
"Now for a battle to the death," said Tom grimly, as he led his men outto practice.