CHAPTER IV A PLACE OF GREAT MAGIC
"Hello Johnny!" Doug Danby exclaimed, as Johnny came racing into theDanby's back yard. "Where you been? Gee! You look queer! As if you'd beenstealin' chickens or something." Doug laughed.
"Oh forget it!" Johnny exploded. "Here! Give me your catcher's mask. I'lluse it to hide my face."
"Don't need it," Doug replied. "All self-respecting secrets carefullyguarded--that's our motto.
"But say!" Doug exploded. "The Colonel wants to see us! Guess it's aboutthat pitcher of his. Bet he'll be with us next Saturday. And if heis,--say! Boy! We'll lick 'em!"
Doug was a fine boy. Johnny liked him a heap. Tall, slightly angular,like the boy Abe Lincoln, he was honest, hard-working and full of drollfun--just the sort of boy that should come from a little city likeHillcrest.
Together the boys walked rapidly down the street. They soon caught upwith a slow ambling figure that greeted them with a squawky but none theless hearty, "Why, hello Doug! Hello Johnny!"
This was Professor George, the little city's favorite old man. He waseighty years old, was Professor George. The younger men of the city couldremember when he was a popular teacher in the high school. Now, foryears, he had been Professor George, friend of every boy in town.
The professor had a hooked nose and there were huge brown freckles allover his dry face, but his kindly smile was worth earning, and many a boyowed his success to Professor George's kindly, steadying hand.
"Sorry you lost the game Saturday," he said as he tried hard to keep instep. "You'll have better luck next time. I'm sure of it." ProfessorGeorge had not missed a ball game in twenty years.
"Yes," Doug exclaimed enthusiastically, "we're going to have a grandpitcher, regular big league stuff! We--"
His words were broken in upon by a booming voice. It was Big Bill Tysonspeaking. He had suddenly appeared from somewhere. "Just the fellows Iwant to see!" he roared. "The very ones. Wanted to tell you about theball grounds."
"Ye--es. What about it?" The words caught in Doug's throat. He had beendreading this for some time, in fact ever since Big Bill's father died.Bill's father had owned the ball park. He had owned a lot more of thetown besides. Now it all belonged to Big Bill. Once the ball park hadbeen the grounds of a canning factory. Bill's father had been rich andgenerous, a good citizen and a great friend of Professor George. So, whenthe antiquated canning factory failed to pay, he had allowed ProfessorGeorge and his boys to tear it down and to use the lumber for a fence andbleachers of a ball park.
But now the good old man was dead and Big Bill reigned, in his stead. BigBill was a different sort. He cared little for boys, in fact he thoughtvery little about the welfare of anyone but Big Bill. So now Doug, Johnnyand Professor George stood, inwardly quaking, awaiting his next word.
"It's like this--" he tried to be brisk and business-like, but succeededonly in appearing, in the boys' eyes at least, as a big bully. "Likethis--" he began again. "Fellow came into my office last week. He'sinterested in organizing a professional baseball league. Hired playersand all that from out of town. Play the games on Sunday. Big thing forthe city. Bring lots of folks here. Fill up the soft-drink places, poolhalls an' all that. Fine big thing!" Thrusting his fingers in his belt,he swelled out like a turkey gobbler.
"But the boys could play their games on Saturday just the same,"Professor George put in hopefully.
"No. No, they couldn't. That's what I wanted to tell you." Big Billscowled. "Boys would be in the way. Professionals need practice and allthat. So--it's out you go, just like that!" He snapped a pudgy finger."Unless--"
"Unless what?" Doug breathed.
"Unless you can get me a thousand dollars."
"Rent?" Professor George gasped. "We--"
"Rent nothing!" Big Bill roared. "First payment on a contract to purchasethe grounds."
"For--for how much?" Doug was staring.
"Ten thousand dollars on contract."
"Ten thousand!" Johnny whistled through his teeth.
"We--ll," Professor George said slowly, "that's a fair price, William.But you'll have to give us time to think where we can get it."
"All right." Big Bill suddenly put on a business-like air. "Two weeks.Time enough for anybody." At that he strode away.
"Might as well make it two years," Doug grumbled gloomily, "for all we'llever make it!"
"Now, now Doug!" Professor George admonished. "It's a worthy cause, avery worthy cause. Nothing better for the boys than good, clean baseball.God loves boys, I'm positive of that. So, just like as not He'll show usthe way." Professor George was religious but he was not what you callpious. His religion, like the blood that coursed through his veins, was areal part of him. Every boy who came to know him respected him the morebecause of his religion.
"Well, boys," the good old professor said as he left them at his owndoor, "don't let William trouble you too much. We'll get round himsomehow. Used to trouble us in school, William did, but we always gotround him, somehow." He gave forth a cackling laugh. "Always got roundhim somehow."
"Bill went to school when Professor George taught," Doug explained as heand Johnny went on down the street. "Dad says Bill cheated somethingterrible, but Professor George always caught on to him. That's why hedon't like Professor George, even now.
"He's been cheating ever since," he added gloomily. "He'll cheat us outof our ball park if we don't watch out.
"A thousand dollars," he murmured thoughtfully. "We've got half that muchin the bank--been saving it for new bleachers. Took two years to save it.Fine chance to gather up that much more in two weeks!"
"Got to advertise," said Johnny. "This mysterious new pitcher now. Heought to draw a crowd if we only had him advertised."
Like a flash a bright idea occurred to Johnny. "I'll think up some goodpublicity," he told himself. "Think it up just right. Then I'll shootthat thought-camera at myself and turn out some swell copy. Old C. K.Lovell will put it in the _Sentinel_, I know he will." But of this hesaid never a word to Doug. The thought-camera was a deep, dark secret.
"He is mysterious!" Doug exclaimed quite suddenly.
"Huh! What? Who's mysterious?" Johnny dragged himself back to earth witha start. "Oh! Yes! That pitcher. Sure he is. Terribly mysterious."
"The Colonel says he's been working in the laboratories for threemonths," Doug broke in. "Three months! I've been round the lab nearlyevery day, and I never once saw him, except that evening when he pitcheda few over for us."
As the boys approached the long, low building known as the laboratories,Johnny felt a thrill course up his spine. He was to see that strangepitcher. With his olive skin and bright gleaming blue eyes, thispitcher's very movements seemed to say, "Here I am. A mystery. Solve me."
The laboratories too held a special charm for Johnny. Here all manner ofstrange chemical secrets were sought out and often found. Already theselaboratories were famous. Here a new drug had been discovered that hadproved a great boon to those suffering from asthma. With characteristicgenerosity, the Colonel had given this discovery to the world, asking noprofit to himself.
It was rumored that here a poison had been discovered, so powerful thatit would make war impossible. One drop of it on any part of the bodywould mean instant death. This was only a rumor. Better founded was thestatement that "heavy water"--a water in which no animal life, howeversmall, could live--had been produced. However these things might be, bothJohnny and Doug approached the place with a feeling akin to awe, for thisto their growing minds was a place of great magic.
In the office of the laboratories they found awaiting them not only theColonel, but a short, round-shouldered boy who wore heavy horn-rimmedglasses with thick lenses.
"Hello, Goggles!" Doug greeted the bespectacled boy with a hearty grin."What you doing here? Been discovering some new element or something?"
"Johnny--" he turned to his friend. "Meet Goggles Short, the boy wizard,both chemical and electrical, of our fair
city."
"Aw now!" Goggles was embarrassed.
"Fame," said the Colonel with a cordial smile, "is a terriblyembarrassing thing, Goggles. However, since you have attained it, you'llhave to bear up under it."
"I suppose you think--" the Colonel's tone changed as he wheeled about toface the other boys, "I suppose you think that I sent for you to talkabout our new pitcher. I did not. He is not here."
"Not here!" Doug's face dropped. "Gone for--"
"No, not for good," the Colonel broke in. "Just for a day or two. He'llbe back for Saturday's game. I'm ready to guarantee that. And you boysare going to need him--for--" his voice dropped, "for more reasons thanone."
"You know Big Bill's plans." Doug's face took on a hopeful look. "You'llhelp us."
"Yes." The Colonel spoke slowly. "Only moral and mental support, however.Cash is all tied up.
"But you'll lick Big Bill, I'm sure of it!" the Colonel's tone carriedconviction. "Goggles here has an idea. Sit down." He motioned them tochairs. "Goggles, tell them about it."
"Well I--you know--" Goggles pulled at his sleeve nervously. "It's sortof like this. Maybe it won't help a bit. But this is it. Dave Saundersover at the electric shop has been experimenting with a thing. I've beenhelping him. Thing's got eyes, better'n human eyes because they'requicker."
"Electric eyes," Johnny put in.
"Sure! How'd you know?" Goggles' eyes bulged behind his thick lenses.
"Know a lot about them," Johnny chuckled. "Sometime I'll tell you abouthow a fellow talked to me down a beam of light. Electric eyes helped himto do that, and a lot of exciting things happened. But go on. What youusing electric eyes for?"
"Umpire," Goggles said with a broad grin. "Baseball umpire. Got fortyeyes. Some see up and down and some sideways. We've tried it out. Worksswell. Calls balls and strikes perfectly. Never a miss.
"Thing is--" Goggles hurried on. "A week from Wednesday we playFairfield. That team's always beefing about the umpire. Holler theirheads off. So I thought--" he took a long breath, "thought you might liketo try our old electric umpire. He'll umpire fairly. Never a mistake."
"That--" Doug sprang to his feet, "that would be swell! And man! Oh, man!We'll draw a crowd! Think of it! Something absolutely new. Electricumpire! What do you think of it, Johnny?"
"Wha--think of what?" Johnny started. "Electric eye. Oh! Yes, it'sinteresting."
"No! More than that!" Doug exploded. "Electric umpire!"
Truth was, strange as it may seem, Johnny's mind had gone off the track.It had suddenly been deflected by the thought-camera, the mostextraordinary thing he had ever seen. "I dreamed it," he had been tellinghimself. "Thing never happened. That Chinaman never recorded my thoughts.But if he did, if the thing's in my closet when I get home, I'll tryit--like to try it now." This was what he had been thinking when DougDanby brought him back to his present surroundings.
"Swell idea!" he enthused, once the electric umpire had been explained tohim. "Work all right, I'm sure of it."
"And draw a crowd," put in Doug.
"That's what I was thinking," Colonel Chamberlain agreed. "Paying crowdsare what you need right now. You'll get that extra five hundred dollarsin plenty of time. All you need is advertising."
"Leave that to me." Johnny was on his feet, ready for a dash home. Withthe aid of the thought-camera, he would dish up plenty of fancyadvertising.
"All right," Doug agreed, "you look after that. I'll get in touch withthe Fairfield bunch. See if they'll stand for this electric umpire."
"They'll stand for it right enough," the Colonel said with a smile. "Theyget a percentage of the gate receipts. Just talk publicity to them andthey'll agree readily enough.
"Well--" his tone became brisk. "Council of war is over. I'll have mypitcher on hand for Saturday's major attraction. And you, Goggles, you'lltake care of Wednesday. Meeting's adjourned."
With a "Thank you, thank you a lot!" the three boys filed out of theoffice.
"Well," Doug sighed, "we didn't see him after all."
"See who?" Johnny was once more lost in his contemplation of theimmediate future.
"The pitcher, of course," Doug grumbled. "Fellow'd think he was just anordinary person."
"Well, perhaps he is," Johnny chuckled.
"And perhaps he is not," Doug replied as they lost themselves in thegathering darkness.