CHAPTER XXVII
THE CRIMSON SWEATER DISAPPEARS
"Seven to three," muttered Roy as, drawing his big leather mitten on, hestepped to the base and held his hands out toward Kirby. "That's four tomake up to tie them." _Sock_ came a ball against the hollow of his mitt."If Kirby does his part, though, and they don't get any more runs, we'vegot a chance." Back went the ball to the new pitcher and once more itflew across to Roy. "If I wasn't surprised when Emmy sent for me! 'Thereseems to have been a mistake made, Porter. I trust I have not discoveredit too late for the success of the nine. If you are wanted, take a hand,and good luck to you. Come and see me after supper, please.' 'What itmeans--(I beg pardon, Kirb; my fault!)--I don't know; unless Horace toldon himself; he was there looking kind of down in the mouth. I'm certainHarry didn't break her promise!"
"All right, fellows!" shouted Chub, throwing the practice ball to theumpire and trotting to his position. "After 'em hard, now. We're allback of you, Kirb!"
Cole settled his mask into place and Kirby sent three trial balls tohim. Then Smith, the first of the Hammond batsmen, stepped into thebox.
"Hello, you!" called Chub cheerfully as Roy edged over toward him. "It'sgood to see you there, old chap. Get after 'em, Roy. We're not beatenyet!"
"Not a bit of it!" answered Roy. "We'll have them on the run in aminute."
A whole lot depended on Kirby, and everyone realized that fact. If hecould pitch his best game and hold Hammond down to her present scorethere might be a chance of Ferry Hill's doing something in the next twoinnings. But Kirby had had but a few minutes of warming up work andmight prove stiff. He got one strike on Smith and then sent him fourballs, one after the other, seemingly unable to find the plate. Smithtrotted to first. Chub called laughingly across to Kirby.
"That's right, Kirb, give 'em a show."
Kirby smiled and dug his toe into the ground.
Rollins tapped the plate with his bat and shot a questioning look towardSmith on first. Kirby pitched wide, Cole slammed the ball down to Royand Roy swung at the runner. But Smith was full-length in the dust withhis fingers clutching a corner of the bag. Roy tossed the ball to Kirby.Smith crawled to his feet, dusted his clothes and took a new lead.
"Strike one!" droned the umpire.
Smith trotted back to the bag. The coach sent him off again.
"Take a lead, take a lead!" he shouted through his hands. "He won'tthrow it! Down with his arm, now! _Look out!_"
But the warning came too late. Kirby had turned suddenly and thrownswiftly, and Roy's downward swinging hand had found Smith a good sixinches away from base.
"Out on first," said the umpire.
From the Ferry Hill side came the sound of clapping hands and cheeringvoices. Smith walked back to the bench and Roy, moistening his mitten inthe inelegant but effective manner of the ball player, trotted out tohis position.
"One gone, Cap!" he cried. "Let's have the next one!"
"All right, Roy. Next man, fellows!"
The next man was easy for Kirby. Rollins already had one strike and oneball on him and Kirby finished him up in short style, causing him tostrike a full six inches above a deceptive drop and then putting a swiftball directly over the center of the plate and catching Rollins napping.
"Well, well," cried Chub merrily. "Only one more, Kirb. They can't touchyou, old man!"
But that wasn't quite so, for Mullins, the head of the rival battinglist, touched him for two bases. O'Meara came up plainly resolved to doas well if not better, but only brought the first half to a close bypopping up a high foul which Thurlow had no trouble with.
As the teams changed places the cheering broke out simultaneously fromboth sides of the diamond, and flags waved tumultuously.
"Who's at bat?" asked Chub as he trotted to the bench.
"Carpenter," said the scorer. "No, I mean Porter."
"All right, Roy," said Chub.
"Take it easy," counselled Mr. Cobb. "All you want is to reach first.We'll get you on from there."
"What's he like?" asked Roy of Chub as he stooped to select his bat.
"Oh, kind of hard. Look out for slow balls; he's full of 'em and works'em on you when you're least expecting 'em. You can hit him."
"Hope so," answered Roy as he selected his stick and walked to theplate. As he faced the Hammond pitcher, who grinned at him in probablerecollection of the camp adventure, the Ferry Hill supporters started acheer.
"Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Porter!"
Roy felt a little warming tingle in the region of his heart. Then he wasswinging his bat back, for Rollins had undoubled and shot the ballforward. Chub staggered back out of its way.
"Ball!" droned the umpire.
Then came what was seemingly a straight delivery and Roy swung at it.But it went down so suddenly when a few feet from the plate that his battraveled several inches above it and threw Roy off his balance. Hammondjeered and laughed.
"Don't try to slug, Roy!" called Chub. "Easy does it!"
And so it proved. Rollins sent a "teaser," one of his puzzling slowones, but Roy had the good fortune to guess it before it reached theplate. He met it with an easy swing and made for first. Third basemansmothered it as it arose from the ground for the first bound and threwswiftly. But Roy was like a streak when it came to running bases, andthis fact, coupled with the fact that first baseman had to step wide ofthe bag to get the throw, made him safe. Chub raced over to coach andseized the moment while the pitcher was returning to his box to whisperinstructions.
"Don't wait for a hit; steal on the first ball."
Cole appeared at the plate and Chub retreated to the coacher's box andknelt on the ground.
"Not too far," he counselled anxiously. "Watch out! Wait for the hit.Charlie'll send you down."
Rollins looked over at him, but didn't throw. The new player was plainlytimid and wouldn't give much trouble. So he turned his attention toCole. Roy pranced nervously about on his toes a scant yard from basewhile the pitcher doubled himself into a knot. Then, as the arm began todrop swiftly, Roy leaped forward and shot for second.
"He's gone!" cried the infielders.
Cole swung at the ball, which was a drop, the Hammond catcher found itnear the ground, side-stepped and sent it swiftly down to second.Unfortunately for success, he delivered it head-high to shortstop and inthe moment that it took for the latter player to swing down with it Royfound safety. Squatting on the bag he waited for proceedings to resume,dusting the brown soil from the front of his shirt and hearkeninghappily to the cheers which thundered from the Ferry Hill side. Then hewas up and taking a good long lead in response to the appeals of Thurlowback of third. Rollins evidently felt sore, for Roy had done what fewhad succeeded in doing that spring; he prided himself on the fact thatrunners found it mighty hard work to steal bases on him! So he triedtwice to catch Roy napping on second, but failed each time. Cole sent upa foul and then fanned out.
Sidney Welch took his place. Sid had made a good record to-day for ayoungster and Roy looked for a hit. It came at once. Sid took a try atthe first delivery and sent it speeding into short center field. Centerslammed the ball down to third, but Roy was up again by the time it gotthere. Post came to bat looking determined. Roy danced along third baseline and once narrowly escaped a put-out when Rollins slammed the ballover to third. Then Post let drive at a straight one and lifted a highfly into short left field. He was caught out and neither Roy nor Sid hada chance to advance.
"Two gone!" shouted Cole over at first. "Everything goes!"
"You've got to score, Roy!" coached Thurlow. "Take a good lead now!That's it!"
Chub was at bat. Rollins sent a strike over. Chub tapped the plate. Sidedged farther away from first. Rollins pitched again.
"He's gone" was the cry. "Watch home!"
Sid was lighting out for second. Shortstop ran in and catcher threw downto him. Roy ran a few steps farther toward the home plate and stayedthere, ready to go on or return to third. Sid doubled back
for first.Shortstop sized up the situation, made as though to throw to third andthen sent the ball to first. Sid turned again toward second. Roy wasdancing about a third of the way home.
"Watch home!" shouted the catcher.
But first baseman didn't hear, or hearing thought he knew better what todo. Sid was between him and second baseman now, scrambling back andforth like a rat in a trap. First threw to second and--
"Home! Home!" shrieked the rest of the players.
Second threw home, but he threw wildly and the ball struck the ground tothe left of the catcher and went bounding back toward the fence.
Roy picked himself up and, patting the dust from his clothes, walkedpanting to the bench. Sid had reached third. Ferry Hill shouted andcapered and waved brown and white flags.
The scorer credited Ferry Hill with one more precious tally and, amidnoisy encouragement, Chub stepped smiling back into the box.
Rollins was the least bit rattled for the first time during the game.Chub found a nice one and Sid raced home. Out between right fielder andcenter fielder the ball fell to earth untouched and Chub was on first.
The cheering from the Ferry Hill side was wild and discordant, and itdidn't stop for an instant until Chub was caught stealing second andput out two yards from the bag.
Ferry Hill's supporters were happier than they had been for an hour anda half. To be sure, Hammond was still two runs to the good, but seven tofive sounded a whole lot nicer than seven to three; and, besides, FerryHill's best batsmen were coming up for the last of the ninth. Hammondwent to bat with Stone, her center fielder up.
But Kirby had found his pace. Stone stood idle while two strikes and oneball were called on him. Then he swung at what seemed to be made for hispurpose. Then he went back to the bench. Young took his place. Young wasa good hand with the stick and even Kirby's most puzzling balls couldn'tkeep him from first. He lined out the hottest kind of a sizzler overChub's head and was ready to go to second when Post fielded it. But hedecided to stay where he was for the present. Perhaps had he known whatwas to befall Hartley and Hyde he would have risked more then. As itwas, when he left first base it was not to take second but to trot outto his position in right field. For Kirby struck out the next twobatsmen in a style extremely pleasing to his friends and was therecipient of an embarrassing ovation when he walked to the bench.
"Here's our last chance," said Chub a trifle nervously as he ran in."You're up, Bacon. Do something now, for goodness sake!"
Well, not to prolong the suspense, Bacon did something. He struck out;struck out as miserably as though his side didn't need two or threeruns the worst way in the world. And he went back to the bench and Chuband the others looking ready to cry.
"Hard luck," said Chub, striving to seem cheerful.
"Rotten batting!" muttered Bacon angrily.
Thurlow brought hope back, however, by getting to first on secondbaseman's juggling of a liner. Pryor went to bat with instructions tobunt, tried it twice and then went out to third baseman. There were twoout, a man on first and the tag end of the batting list was in sight. Onthe Hammond side the cheering was loud and contented. On the oppositeside the brown flags were drooping dejectedly and the stands wereemptying. Clearly, defeat was to be Ferry Hill's portion to-day.
But Kirby wasn't ready to acknowledge it. At least, he told himself, hewould have one good bang at that ball. He could do no more than go out.So he slammed away at two deliveries, waited while a third went by andthen hammered out a clean two-base-hit that sent Thurlow ambling acrossthe plate for the sixth tally. Somehow, that seemed to change the entireaspect of things. Homeward-bound spectators paused and edged back to thediamond. Ferry Hill's cheers, which for the last five minutes had beenweak and quite evidently "machine made," now broke out afresh and theair became full of waving brown flags.
It was "Porter at bat!" now, and Chub was whispering intensely in Roy'sear, accompanying him to the plate and parting from him finally with aslap on the shoulder that was heard across on the stand.
Now, if there's one thing in the whole wide world calculated to give achap a fit of nervous prostration it is to go to bat in the last half ofthe ninth inning with the knowledge that on his ability or inability tohit safely hangs victory or defeat. Roy had that knowledge, and littlechills crept up and down his spine when he considered it. So he triednot to. He tried to forget everything save that he was there to hit theball; everything save that and what Chub had whispered in his ear at thelast.
"'When you're up against a bigger man, Roy, grin as hard as you cangrin!' Don't forget what your brother told you! That's all, you dear oldchump!"
So Roy grinned. Perhaps he grinned so much that he quite disordered hisfeatures, for he found Rollins looking at him curiously as thoughwondering as to his sanity. But Roy still grinned--and watched.
Rollins wound himself up and unwound himself, and the ball shot forward.Roy judged it quickly and let it go by. The umpire vindicated hisjudgment.
"Ball!" he said.
Then came something of a different calibre and Roy stepped down and hitat it. It went by without a jar.
"Strike!" said the umpire.
Again Roy tried his luck, spun half around and recovered himself to findRollins doing the grinning. Roy grew angry. To have Rollins laugh at himwas too much. He gripped his bat and took position again. Then heremembered his grin. It was hard to get it back, but he did it. Roy hasan idea that that grin worried Rollins; that as may be, it is a factthat the next ball went so wide of the plate that the catcher had tothrow himself on the ground to stop it and Kirby was safe on second.
"Two and two!" cried the catcher, setting his mask firm again. "Rightafter him, Jim. He's pretty easy."
Jim undoubtedly meant Roy to strike at the next one, but Roy didn'tbecause the ball quite evidently had no intention of coming over thebase.
"Three balls," remarked the umpire in a disinterested tone, just asthough hundreds of hearts weren't up in hundreds of throats.
For the first time since coming to bat Roy had a gleam of hope. Rollinshad put himself in a hole and the next ball would have to be a good one.And it was.
Roy swung sharply to meet it, dropped his bat like a hot potato andstreaked for first. Out in left field a cherry and black stockingedyouth was gazing inquiringly toward the afternoon sky. Home raced Kirby,around the bases streaked Roy. He had seen the ball now and hope wasdying out within him. Left fielder seemed directly under it. But hewould run as hard as he knew how, at any rate; there was no harm inthat; and you never could tell what would happen in baseball. So Roywent flying across second base and headed for third like a small cyclonein a hurry. And as he did so his heart leaped, for left fielder hadsuddenly turned and was running sideways and backward by turns out intothe field.
He had misjudged it badly. Had he not done so I should have had adifferent ending to narrate. But he did, and when the ball came to earthhe was not quite under it although he made a frantic effort to get it.And by the time he had picked it up and relayed it to shortstop Roy wasturning past third. And by the time shortstop had his hands about it andhad turned, Roy was almost at the plate. And by the time--But what's theuse in drawing a story out in this way? Roy beat that ball to the plateby at least two seconds. And in one more second he was being literallycarried to the bench in the midst of a howling, shrieking, dancing mobof Ferry Hillites.
Perhaps Ferry Hill would have continued the game until her third man hadbeen put out had she had a chance. But when the spectators take it intotheir heads to have a war-dance in the middle of the diamond, ballplaying is extremely difficult. So Chub shouted something to the umpire,the scorer slammed his book shut on a score of 8--7 and pandemonium hadeverything its own way.
Here and there a Ferry Hill player tried to sneak back to the gymnasiumundetected, but in every case he was captured and placed high up on theshoulders of frantic, joy-crazed friends. There was no band there tolead that triumphant procession around and around the diamond, but noone felt the necessity
for one. There was noise enough without it.
Roy, swaying unsteadily on the shoulders of a little group of hatless,red-faced youths, looked down on the sea of pushing, panting figures andgrinned happily. Chub, clinging desperately to the heads of two of hisbearers, charged through the throng in Roy's direction.
"Hello, there!" he bawled. "Use your spurs and come on!"
But Roy's bearers needed no spurs. They charged the crowd and Roy wentbobbing through a little forest of upraised eager hands. Then theprocession took some semblance of form and began its march around thebases according to time-honored custom. As Roy, following closely behindChub, passed third, he found Doctor Emery and his family beside him. TheDoctor was smiling broadly, Mrs. Emery was waving a diminutive bannerand Harry was dancing and shrieking, her red hair floating in disorderedwisps about her face. She caught sight of Roy on the instant and dartedtoward him.
"Wait! Wait!" she commanded shrilly.
Roy's bearers waited, laughing and panting protestingly.
Harry reached up and tossed a crimson sweater about Roy's shoulders.
"I'm so glad, Roy," she cried breathlessly. "And it's all mended; I didit myself!"
Roy nodded, drew the arms of his precious sweater across his chest andcalled his thanks. Then, impatient of the delay, his bearers chargedforward again and Roy clutched wildly to keep his seat. Thrice aroundthe diamond the procession went, cheering and singing, and then itturned across the track and filed through the gate in the hedge and sothrough the June twilight and under the great elms to the gymnasium.
"Roy's bearers waited"]
And in the van of the line, like a vivid standard of victory, swayed TheCrimson Sweater.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends