CHAPTER XIII SECRET OF THE PINES
Next day, in keeping with his promise to Goggles, Johnny found himselfseated beneath the broad-spreading boughs of a pine tree. All about himwere other pines. He was not in a forest, but a grove--a twenty acregrove of pines. Old Colonel Pinchot had planted them there a half centuryago. Now they were known simply as The Pines. The heart of The Pines wasa marvelous place to think, and Johnny was thinking hard. When he wentinto anything he went in heart and soul, did Johnny. He had gone in forthe Hillcrest baseball team for all he was worth.
"And now," he sighed, "looks as if it were all off just because--well,because somebody wants what he wants and appears to have the power totake it. Four thousand dollars!" He gave vent to a low grunt. "How's afellow to raise that much in times like these, for a baseball team,--andin sixty days! It can't--"
He broke short off to listen. A curious sound, for such a place, hadstruck his ear. It seemed to be the low rattle and chuck-chuck of a twowheel cart.
"Who can that be carting things about way out here?" he asked himself.The question soon ceased to interest him. His mind turned once more tostrange happenings in old Hillcrest. The little Chinaman with histhought-camera and think-o-graphs, lurking Federal agents, the mysteriouspitcher, and Big Bill Tyson--all came in for their share of his thoughts.He lingered longer on the question of Big Bill and the four thousanddollars than all the rest, but was no nearer a solution than before, whento his vast surprise he saw Goggles break through the pine boughs,dragging a heavy cart behind him.
"Whew!" the young inventor exclaimed, mopping his brow. "That thing pullslike a ton of bricks."
"Then why pull it?" Johnny grinned. "Where's your friend the pitcher?"
"Right in behind." Goggles grinned broadly as he nodded at somethingcovered with canvas.
"You don't mean--"
"Give me a hand," Goggles grumbled. "It--it--I mean he's pretty heavy."
The astonished Johnny saw him throw back the canvas to disclose severalsections of a mechanical contraption that might have been just anythingat all.
His astonishment was not very much abated when, some fifteen minuteslater, he saw standing before him on an improvised pitcher's mound asix-foot figure that to some degree resembled a man.
"Meet Irons O." Goggles beamed. "He doesn't walk very well. He's quitestiff-legged. He's quite deaf, so there's no use talking to him. But hecan bawl out the umpire something fierce. His eyesight is very bad, sosomeone has to catch the ball for him and throw bases. But boy! How hecan pitch! With just a little training he could fan out Babe Ruth ninetimes out of ten.
"Here!" he said, handing Johnny a big baseball mit, "You just get downthere about where the catcher would stand, and I'll have him throw a fewover to you."
After placing a ball between four steel fingers and a cast iron thumb,Goggles touched a button and the thing began a low puff-puff-puff thatresembled low, heavy breathing. Johnny was mystified and amused beyondbelief.
"Watch this curve!" Goggles shouted a moment later. He touched a button.A steel arm rose in air, wound up for all the world like a professionalpitcher, then let fly. The ball shot forward, took a sudden broad curve,then went thud against Johnny's big mit. A second ball, then a thirdfollowed and all took that same sharp curve.
"You set the fingers," Goggles explained in a matter-of-fact voice. "Lookat this straight, fast one." Once again the steel arm went through itsmotion. This time the ball, shooting straight ahead like a cannon ball,cut the plate squarely in the middle.
"That," said Johnny solemnly, "is the strangest thing I ever saw. Amechanical pitcher!"
"Nothing less!" Goggles agreed.
"Whe--where'd you get him?"
"Hop Horner and I have been working on him down at the electric shop formonths. You see there's a little motor inside that generates electricity.Electricity runs him. All a fellow has to do is to set his fingers andoperate the controls. As I said before, he can even rave at the umpire.Watch!" He punched two buttons and old Irons O began bobbing hisoutlandish head. His steel teeth cracked together again and again, whilefrom his metal throat there came sounds resembling the complaints of awildcat chased up a tree. "He--he's almost perfect!" Goggles admittedproudly.
"Yes," Johnny agreed, "but what good is he? You can't expect another ballteam to let you substitute a--a machine for a real flesh-and-bloodpitcher."
"No, you can't do that," Goggles agreed, "but you can do this--it came tome just last night. You can announce an exhibition game. Get Centralia tocome over and play us just for fun--fun and profit. We'd have a completesell-out. Can't you see it? Big headlines: 'Come and See Irons O, theMechanical Pitcher, Perform!' Why even Big Bill would have to come andsee that game! That game would bring in the first hundred dollars or sotoward that four thousand." Goggles went hopping about in his excitement.
"Sounds good to me," Johnny agreed.
And indeed it sounded good to everyone interested in the Hillcrestbaseball team. The date of the game was set for the following Saturday.As Goggles had predicted, the thing became a headline story. Reporterswere admitted to the evergreen grove for a demonstration. Everyone elsewas barred. Then Irons O went into seclusion; a seclusion however thatwas to prove not quite adequate for the occasion.
When the time came for calling the game every bleacher seat and allavailable standing space was packed. The fame of the mechanical pitcherwas spread far and wide.
"It's in the bag," Johnny grinned broadly as he saw old Professor Georgetucking the day's receipts, a fat wad of bills, into his pocket.
"Not yet," Goggles warned. "Remember, we promised a perfect performance.'Nine full innings pitched by Irons O, or your money back.' That's theway the handbills were printed."
For all this the young inventor wore a jaunty air as he marched out tothe pitcher's mound where his mechanical man awaited him.
Touching a button here, another there, he caused Irons O to bob his headfrom side to side, then let out a cry of defiance at the shouting throng.The crowd roared back its glee.
When this roar had subsided another reached Johnny's ear. A hugebi-motored plane was circling to the landing field a half mile away. Ashudder ran over him. He had not forgotten those "Mystery wings," nor thetwo strangers who had done something terrible to the "Prince" on thatother day. "Have trouble doing it to a mechanical pitcher." He laughed inspite of himself.
Ten minutes later, as the players took their place on the field, Johnnysaw three men in aviation caps crowding toward the front.
"Wonder who they are and what they want?" he thought to himself.Something seemed to tell him that their arrival was important. Why? Hecould not tell.
The great moment came at last, and "Irons O pitching!" the megaphoneannounced at the end of the line-up.
Goggles' fingers trembled as he threw on an electric switch, then pressedthe button. And well they might tremble for Irons O, instead of facingthe batter and doing his plain duty, let out a defiant squeal, turnedhalf about, wound up and let fly at the astonished second baseman who,taken off his guard, was struck squarely on the chest and knocked overlike a policeman with a bullet through his heart. Instantly pandemoniumbroke loose. Goggles could not hear himself think for the wild tumultuousnoise.