CHAPTER XIX
A SHUT-OUT
Bill turned to Sadler. "You're with us?"
"Sure, Siebold has a substitute for right field."
"I'm with you, too," said Dixon. "Put Longy in my place, Cap."
Siebold grew angry. "You fellows have been kickers all along, and nowyou think that will weaken us. Well, if Ritter can't take a fly betterthan you can, you big stiff, I'll assassinate him; and Long is as good ashort stop as you are, Dixon."
"We have four other substitutes and I'll promise three of them for ourscrub team, Brown," Sadler declared.
"All right; that's seven fellows and we can pick up two more, surely.Let's hunt them up right now," demanded Bill.
They did. As it was clearing, they went to the diamond and after alittle practice all round at town ball, Bill watching closely, they gotinto the places best suited to each player and then elected Bill managerand Sadler captain. The big fellow and Dixon had discarded their suitsfor plain shirt and trousers, and a small collection was taken up forpants and some extra gloves. Mr. Gay gave them a catcher's mask and somebats.
The next afternoon, the challenge having been formally given, the matchbetween the regulars and scrubs took place, Siebold winning the toss andtaking the bases, Mr. Gay acted as umpire.
Maxwell seemed to be in better form than usual. Perhaps because he founda "ragged lot of players," as Bill put it. The scrubs had not fully gottogether and they went out, two on strikes, and Sadler's fly was caught.The regulars went to bat, laughing, Siebold straddling the plate.
Gus stood in the box, smiling. He nodded to little Kerry behind the batand Kerry inclined his head to the left. Sadler and Dixon were watchingclosely. Could the new pitcher on whom Brown appeared to stake so muchreally do anything? If he could send them over the way he boxed, thoughtSadler, "good night"! Brown was all the time springing something worthwhile. That was just why he and Dixon had been willing to make a finalkick at Siebold's arbitrary rulings. And now here was Siebold himself,one of the surest batters in the team, facing the unknown quantity.
Gus put on no gimcracks nor did he make fancy swings. He merely made astep forward, raised his arm to throw and held it about two seconds--thenthere came across the plate something more like a streak than a ball--soit seemed to Siebold--and little Kerry, who had been squatting, nearlywent over backward with the loud plop in his glove. Siebold stood, dazed.
"One strike!" called the umpire.
The ball went back to Gus who took it out of the air as if he wereplucking at a snowflake. Again the step forward, the raised arm and theball came along swiftly at first, then slower, much slower, but keepingup. Siebold's heart sang. He would take this thing on the end of his batand lift it beyond any hopes of a fielder's reaching it--it meant atwo-bagger sure. He struck; there was no contact of bat and ball; afraction of a second later the sound of the ball in Kerry's glove toldhim he had "missed it by a mile," as Sadler bawled it out.
"Two strikes!"
Siebold looked mad now. He was being tricked--that was certain. He wouldshow this fellow if he could do that again! The ball came along swiftly,but too high. It was "one ball," and he waited. The next was fairlyswift, but it was going to bounce before it struck, yet it lifted andpassed right over the plate almost a foot high and Siebold wondered whyhe had not swiped at it.
"Striker out!" called the umpire, and the captain of the regularsangrily threw down his bat.
Wilde came next. He was the regulars' catcher, and the best batter ofthe team. Siebold stood, watching closely, a scowl on his face. Almostthe same tactics were played, without Wilde ever knowing where the ballwas! Another chose three bats before he got one to suit him--this fellowwas Kline, the bunter. More than once he had made his base and letfellows on bases in by bunting one at his own feet and in such a mannerthat it rolled slowly toward the pitcher.
Three balls were called against Gus. The regulars commenced to smile andSiebold's eyes sparkled. Then three streaks came, all over the plate,waist high and "striker out" sounded the third time. The regulars wentto the field, the captain walking slowly and thoughtfully.
Gus went to bat and struck out. Little Kerry lifted a fly to left fieldthat the fielder muffed and let roll, so that Kerry slid into secondwhen the sphere was coming back again. Morton, a new man, struck out asthough he were not sure whether he was fighting bears, or was merely ina debate, and Dixon hit a grounder to second and was caught out onfirst. Still no runs.
Gus always had the short step forward, always the uplifted arm that didnot double forward at once. It was possibly confusing, instead of anotice to the batter to get ready, as one might have imagined. Quite anumber of balls were called against Gus--fast, slow ones, up-shoots--butnever four. Three batters went out in quick succession.
In the third inning Maxwell slowed up a little and the scrubs becamewider awake. One of the new men who had, he declared, played ball verylittle and never shown a genius for hitting, sent a liner betweenpitcher and first that put him on his base. One of the regulars' formersubstitutes hit another grounder that let him on first and the new manon second. The third and fourth man, their second time at bat, struckout again and then came big Sadler to the plate. His very first cracksent a fly so high and wide that the center and left fielders fell allover themselves in their effort to get it, while the center man made awild throw, so that Sadler rather easily accomplished a home run.
It was three runs for the scrubs, as Gus again struck out. The third atthe bat for the regulars proved to be "ancient history," anotherexpression of Sadler's, with this difference: Siebold took his base onfour balls, but he didn't get any farther than first.
Little Kerry knocked another liner and this the man on second dropped,the short-stop getting it too late to first. Morton again went out.Dixon hit a liner for two bases that let Kerry in and again the newgenius proved himself such by getting in a fly that on errors put him onthird. Once more a substitute who after two fouls knocked a ball almostwithin reach over the first baseman's head, made another home run onerrors. The fourth was caught out on a foul, the fifth struck out andSadler knocked another fly that was caught. Six runs for the scrubs--theregulars nothing.
Smiling, Gus came again to the box. Three batters in quick succession,after only three balls were called for two of them, struck out. Theyseemed to have no idea where the balls were passing, and little Kerrystaggered back with every one sent in, though he, too, was smiling. Andthen, before the regulars could again take their places, something elseoccurred.
Siebold merely said: "Hold on, fellows!" He walked straight up to Gus,caught him by the arm and pulled him over toward Bill and Mr. Gay.
"See here," said Siebold; "I'm no piker. I've been dead wrong and nobodyhas to tell me. So, Grier, honestly I never saw such pitching outside ofthe national leagues. And if you'll let me, I want to be friends, and Iwant you on the team. Mr. Gay, you're right: Maxwell on first and you,Grier, in the box. Are you with us?"
Siebold extended his hand and Gus shook it warmly. The captain turned toBill. "You, too. We have to thank you for this business, the best strokeof luck we have ever had."
Bill shook Siebold's hand with as much gusto as he would have that ofany downright hero. A fellow who could muzzle his pride and do thesquare thing in this manner, especially after he had been licked in away that hurt, was a real man.
"And look here, Brown! I've generally messed up this captain businessand the managing too; and you have got together a team in short orderthat I wouldn't have believed could have slammed us for six runs. Willyou manage us? I'll see that you are elected. Grier can be cap----"
"No, sir," said Bill. "Gus doesn't want to be captain. You'll remaincaptain, Siebold, or we'll both take our doll clothes and go home. But Iwill try my hand at advising, if you wish. 'Two heads,' you know----"
"Hurrah!" shouted Siebold. "Brown is manager! And we've got a pitchernow! We're going to lick those Guilford fellows so bad they
'll thinkthey've got brain fever!"