CHAPTER XI WHAT AN EYE!
That evening Johnny sat on his grandfather's porch staring at the moonand allowing the events of the past few days to glide across his memoryas a panorama glides across a picture screen.
It was strange! Here he was in the quiet little city of his grandfather.He'd been here many times before. Nothing unusual had happened; but nowthere was the little Chinaman who apparently had been seen by no one buthimself and who was now being sought by detectives. And there was thethought-camera. He wondered whether the little man was still in town, buthad no desire to visit the spice shop to find out for sure--at least notin the dark. He recalled C. K.'s words, and shuddered afresh.
"And there's the 'Prince,'" he thought. "Queer sort of fellow. How did hecome here?" He seemed to see an airplane landing within prison walls. Hadthe Colonel rescued him in that strange manner from a prison? "Of coursenot!" he whispered. "Perfectly absurd!" And yet, there was that airpilot's story. "Mystery wings!" he whispered low. How many mysteriousthings might be carried on high in the air--kidnaping, smuggling, daringrobbers escaping from the scene of their crime. What had happened thatday as the airplane soared over their baseball diamond? He had a ratherdefinite notion. But was that idea correct? He meant to find out.
He thought of the coming ball game. The "Prince" would be there. He hadpromised to come. Meggy had brought word of this.
"Good old Meg!" he thought. "How I'd like to tell her about thethought-camera!" He was burning to tell someone. And yet, had he theright? Meg would keep the secret. Threats of death would not wring itfrom her. Good old Meg! And yet--. He wouldn't tell, not just now.
How was the ball game to come out? And Goggles' forty-eyed umpire? Wouldit work? They would get a crowd, he was sure of that. But would they beable to satisfy that crowd?
He stole a glance at his grandfather. As usual, he sat in his big chairdreaming of the past. Slipping up the stairs, Johnny returned with thethought-camera under his coat. He recorded one more chapter of the grandold man's life. Then he crept back upstairs again.
"Wonder how that thing works," he murmured as he once more hid the camerain the bottom of his trunk. "I'd give a lot to know." He had read ofthings scientists were doing with what they called the spectrum, how theydivided it into different rays, red, violet, indigo blue, and how somerays were life-giving and some deadly. It might be something like that.If he knew the secrets of that camera he could become the richest personin the world. Perhaps some day he would know.
"But now," he laughed low, "the next thing is a ball game."
He was late to the Wednesday game. His grandfather had a hurry-up callinto the country. Johnny drove the car. Twenty miles from town they got aflat tire. The bolts stuck. He was a full hour getting it changed. Whenhe finally reached the ball grounds the game had been in progress forsome time and, to his great surprise and consternation, this is what heheard:
"Oh! What an eye! Kill that umpire! Git a pop bottle! Git twenty popbottles! Wreck him! Wreck him!" The cries were loud and persistent fromevery corner of the grandstand.
"Trouble is," Doug Danby groaned as Johnny came racing up, "they areliable to break loose any minute and do just that--'wreck the umpire.'And that umpire cost hundreds of dollars. How could we ever pay it back?"
Doug was, he believed, at that moment the most miserable person in theworld. They were losing, losing the game they by all odds should bewinning. And it was all his fault, or at least he accepted the blame. He,as captain of the team, had stood up for Goggles' mechanical umpire. "Andnow look!" He gave Johnny an appealing glance.
Johnny didn't want to look. Everyone else was looking; that is, everyoneon the Hillcrest bleachers, and everyone was yelling: "Wide a mile!" or"Way below his knees!" "Take out that umpire! Wreck him!" "Strike!Strike! Strike!" They began chanting this as a refrain, and clappingtheir hands in a rhythmic accompaniment.
"Johnny, something's gone terribly wrong!" Meggy Strawn screamed thisinto Johnny's ear above the din.
"You're telling us!" Doug shouted back. "Terribly wrong! I'd say! Bill'sout on strikes and all three were balls. Dave's got two strikes now, andthere--no--that tin umpire called it a ball!"
"There!" Meggy jumped up and down. "Dave swatted it. It's a two bagger!Rah for Dave!"
Doug did not shout. He was glad Dave had made second. But he was surehe'd never see home.
"You can't beat a crooked umpire," he groaned. That the umpire wascrooked he could not by this time doubt. Yet, how could it be? Amechanical umpire with an eye a thousand times faster than the human eye,set to call balls and strikes impartially, all the balls to be outsidethe plate, above the shoulder or below the knee, a mere thing ofelectrical tubes and cells, of wires and steel mechanisms, how could thatkind of an umpire be crooked? Doug could find no answer. Nor couldJohnny. He could only stand and stare.
"Johnny," Meggy whispered, "why does that Fairfield sub always standleaning against that post while our team is up to bat?"
The post she spoke of stood before the bench used by the visiting team.It held one end of the wire cable that kept the crowd off the field.
"Probably leans because he's the leaning sort," Johnny chuckled.
"He's done that for four innings." Meggy's tone was low, mysterious.Johnny missed that tone. He was too much absorbed by what was going on tonotice it. "When his team comes up to bat," Meg went on, "he goes back tothe bench. Then when we are at bat again, he hops up, strolls slowly tothe post and stands there until the inning is over. Johnny, I--"
"There!" It was Doug who interrupted her. "Steve struck out. I'm up.Watch me fan! All I got to do is stand right still, and that tin umpirewill call 'Strike! Strike! Strike!' and I'm out! You just watch!"
"Doug!" Meggy gripped his arm tight. "You--you're being almost yellow.Buck up! Get in there and win in spite of odds. There's something crookedabout it. We all know that. But we can't help it. At least not now.Listen! Uncle Rob told me once he'd seen a lot of crooked things tried inall sorts of games, but he'd found out this--if the straight player stoodup to it and did his level best he'd win; but that a fellow who iscrooked can never do his best--his conscience won't let him. So you justget in there and swat that ball! Strike at every one. Boot it over thefence! And next time, when you're up, I'm going to--"
She did not finish. Doug was gone.
With Meggy's words ringing in his ears, Doug marched up to the plate. Tenseconds later he saw the ball coming. Figuring it would be "wide a mile,"he gave a quick side-wise lurch, swung the bat, struck the ball low andhard, then dashed for first base.
"Go! Go! Go! Go on!" came in a deafening roar. Nor did that call subsideuntil he had crossed the home plate. He had boosted the ball clear out ofthe lot, a home run just like that.
"But even that won't win," he told Johnny gloomily. "The score is still 5to 3 in their favor. And that tin umpire is set dead against us."
This conclusion seemed fair enough, for when Tim Tyler, the best batteron their team, came up next he went down "One, two, three." After thatthe Hillcrest players wandered gloomily to their places on the diamond.
Doug played right field. Since the men on the opposing team almost to aman batted right handed, he now had plenty of time to think. And thosewere long, long thoughts, you may be sure. "How could that electricalumpire be crooked?" he asked himself over and over. "It worked perfectlyevery time yesterday. If it wasn't for the pledge that both teams made tosee the thing through, I'd demand a new umpire. But thunder! We'd lookfine throwing out our own umpire!"
Yes, they had tried the umpire out the day before. Goggles had securedthe necessary equipment from the electrical shop which was really alaboratory for research work, and with the assistance of the headelectrician had set the electrical umpire in place on the ball grounds.
"You see," he had explained before they started to test it out, "there'sa battery of ten lights shining out at the side beyond the plates. Thereare ten above the batter's s
houlder, and ten below the knee. These lightsshine on electric eyes. The moment one of these lights is shut off, evenfor an instant, a red light will flash and a phonograph shout, 'Foul.'Two other batteries of lights watch for strikes. Another phonograph calls'em. Now you fellows try it."
They did try it. Tried it many times and not once had the mechanicalumpire failed.
"It did not slip once yesterday," Doug groaned to himself out there onthe field watching for any chance fly that might come his way. "And now,today, when the Fairfield batters are up, it works perfectly, but when weare up it just squints its forty eyes and gives the pitcher all thebreaks.
"Crowds," the boy grumbled, "are queer. One minute they are with you,next they are against you." It had been so with the crowd from his owntown in regard to the mechanical umpire. When they had heard it call"Strike!" "Foul!" then "Strike!" once more, they had gone wild over it."But now," he groaned, "they're all against it. May swarm onto the fieldany minute and smash it up. Worst is," he grumbled on, "we agreed toabide by the decision of that brainless mechanical man--even put it inwriting. Both teams signed it--so--"
He broke short off. There had come a wild shout from the enemy'sbleachers. A high fly came sailing his way. Judging it correctly, heturned his back and ran; then, whirling about just in time, put up asingle hand to nab the ball. It was a beautiful catch. Even the rivalsapplauded.
"Fine! Great! Wonderful!" His teammates patted him on the back as theyraced in for their turn at bat.
"Lot of good that will be," Doug grumbled. "We're beat right now; beatenby our own little tin umpire. What an eye! is right."
Then Meggy's words came back to him: "Go in and beat them anyway. Fellowsthat are crooked seldom win. Their conscience won't let them."
"We'll win!" He set his teeth tight. "Win in spite of it all. We--"
His thoughts broke short off. What was Meggy up to now? She had walkedaway from her regular place, had crossed the field and was standingleaning against the white post just before the bench used by the rivalteam--the one she had said the Fairfield sub leaned on.
"You'd think she's gone over to the enemy," Doug whispered to Johnny. Shehadn't, though. He knew Meggy better than that. But what _was_ she therefor? Surely that was a puzzler.
Shortly after the "Prince" took up his batting position for oldHillcrest, the sub from the Fairfield bench moved forward to touch Meggyon the shoulder.
"Sorry, Miss, you'll have to move. It's this way. The boys back on thebench can't see through you." His tone was apologetic.
"Oh! Is that so?" Meggy's pug nose turned fully half an inch higher."Well then! Suppose they try sliding along on the bench." She held herposition.
The sub returned to his bench discomfited.
In the meantime, wonder of wonders, the electrical umpire of forty eyeshad at last apparently taken pity on the Hillcrest team and was givingthem a square deal. The "Prince" actually got a base on balls.
The fans on the bleachers ceased their fruitless razzing of the tinumpire and began to cheer. The opposing pitcher appeared to be losing hispoise. After dealing out three more balls, he tossed Dave Dawson an easyone and Dave swatted it for a two bagger. Another walk, and the bags wereloaded.
Fairfield changed pitchers. The fresh pitcher bore down hard. The resultfor that inning was one score for Hillcrest.
"Come on boys!" Doug yelled. "A shut-out this time! Then we'll go afterthem. Two more runs and we got 'em. Something's happened. I don't knowwhat, but at last we're getting a square deal from our old tin ump."
The shut-out was managed easily. The "Prince" did his part nobly. Twopop-ups and a strike-out did the work. All this time Doug was like one ina trance. Strange things were happening. The mechanical umpire hadsuddenly gone on the square. But poor Meg! She had apparently quite losther mind. She was still leaning on that white post before the enemy'sbench. Had anyone been close beside her, however, he would have noticedthat her attention was divided between a certain spot on the ground closeto the post and a Fairfield player who had remained on the bench. Theplayer was captain of the rival team. He had sent the sub out to take hisplace.
Hardly had the batting begun than this captain rose with some dignity toapproach Meggy. "Sorry, dear child," his air was patronizing, "but you'llhave to leave. This is our side of the diamond. Besides, you are indanger of being struck by a foul ball."
"Oh! Thank you!" Meggy smiled sweetly. "I'm awfully good at ducking."
"But you _must_ leave!" The visiting captain's tone was stern.
Meggy did not answer. Instead she turned her back upon him to cup herhands and shout across the diamond.
"Yoo-hoo! Johnny! Bring me that spade! There's a dandelion, a great bigone, here."
The astonished Johnny did her bidding. The rival captain held his ground.A look of dread overspread his face. He seemed to be saying to himself,"What will this wild young creature do next?"
He did not have long to wait. Seizing the spade, Meggy hissed, "There!Right down there!" then sank her spade deep.
The captain made a move as if to stop her, opened his mouth as if tospeak, then retired in apparent confusion.
There was no dandelion where Meggy sank her spade. The spot of gold thatwas a yellow "dannie" was fully a yard away. She did not trouble thedandelion at all. Instead, she sank her spade with a vicious poke of herstout young foot three times. Then, shouldering her spade as if it were arifle, she marched back to her own bleachers and took up the task ofcheer leader. She led the Hillcrest team to such a victory as the oldtown had never before witnessed. When the ninth inning was ended and Dougwas borne in triumph off the field, the score stood 22 to 7 in favor ofthe home team. Doug, riding aloft on his fellow townsmen's shoulders, wasdisturbed by a vague feeling that Meggy was far more richly deserving ofthis ride than he. But why? This he could not tell. That was to comelater.
"Meggy, you're holding something back," Johnny insisted as he sat withMeg and Doug on Meg's porch drinking lemonade late that evening.
"All right," Meg laughed, "then I am. And I suppose you'd like to knowwhat. They say," she smiled whimsically, "that 'figures won't lie butliars will figure.' Well, Goggles may be able to make a perfectmechanical umpire, but he can't keep some other electrical shark fromtampering with it.
"You see--" she leaned forward, eyes gleaming, "you set up your equipmentyesterday. During the night some smart boy from Fairfield came over andcut in a switch that would turn half the eyes of old Mr. Umpire off whenthey wanted them off. That gave Mr. Ump only half sight. And of coursethey made him half blind every time our team came up. He couldn't see theballs."
"But I don't under--"
"Wait!" Peggy held up a hand. "The switch was by that white post. They'dburied the wires underground two or three inches. When I saw that substand there every inning, I guessed there was a reason. So--o, you see,"she laughed, "I took his place.
"He'd been throwing the switch off and on with his toe. Couldn't while Iwas there. Bye and bye I discovered the switch, figured out where thewires ran, then chopped one off with that spade. After that old Mr. Umpcould see very well all the time."
"Meg!" Doug exclaimed, "You're a whizz!"
"Oh I don't know about that," Meg laughed. "One thing I do know. Thescore wouldn't have been so terrible if they hadn't tried to cheat. Whichall goes to show that the fellow that cheats can't win."
"Correct!" Johnny laughed. "Now how about another lemonade?"
"Well--" Doug sighed a happy sigh as he rose to leave a half hour later,"we got our thousand dollars and a little left over. So the old ballground is safe, at least for a while."
"Wasn't the 'Prince' gr--and today!" Meg's tone was rich and mellow."Isn't he mysterious!"
"He sure was good!" Johnny agreed. "And no one bothered him today. Thatairplane did not come back."
"But it will," a voice seemed to whisper in his ear. "You wait! Mysterywings!"