CHAPTER XX

  MARSHALLTON _versus_ GUILFORD

  Bill for once laid aside everything but his studies to give hisattention to the game with Guilford Academy, the last athletic contestof the school year. It was played at Guilford, where the grounds werefenced in and tickets of invitation given. As manager of the visitingteam, Bill had his quota to distribute in and outside of the Tech. Withhis characteristic thoroughness he saw that no one was slighted who wasat all worthy, rich or poor. This was not so liberally managed at theGuilford end.

  The grand stand was pretty well filled, but Bill had reserved some goodseats and to these he conducted the Farrells and their niece, stoppingto tell them that Gus was pitching and that they must root forMarshallton, which of course they did. After this, with some ticketsleft over, Bill went outside and skirted the grounds, finding a dozenyoungsters hunting holes in the fence, and to these he gave hisremaining tickets. Not so long ago, he had been just such a youngsterhimself, and he had an abounding sympathy for those who possessed thekeenest capacity for enjoyment, but were excluded without just reason.

  The game was typical of such contests between schools of the kind in allexcept the performance of Gus in the box. That youth, always smiling,never self-conscious enough even to acknowledge the plaudits meant forhim, not only pitched with professional skill, but in his every movementshowed a grace which demanded attention.

  From the first inning the result was a foregone conclusion. The hometeam held the visitors to no runs and went to bat with the utmostconfidence, only to be retired, one, two, three, on strikes. They shutthe visitors out again, and two of them got on bases to remain there anddie. They let Siebold come home on Wilde's fly and errors and were againfanned.

  They repeated this, with little Kerry at bat and only one of them made ahit, the ball lodging in the pitcher's extended hand. They fought hardand retired the Techs for three more innings, meeting the same fatethemselves. Then their pitcher weakened and the team went to pieces,with three men on bases, and Wilde let them all come home on a longgrounder, but himself died on second, with two others out on strikes.

  They went to pieces again when Sadler knocked a fly over the fence andmade a home run, or rather a home walk, and they again were retired inrapid succession. Score, six to nothing, and the Marshallton crowd,including the dignified president of Tech, the instructors to a man, theFarrells and a lot of other sympathizers yelled their throats sore, abunch of fans going for Gus, hoisting him on high and marching aroundwith him, singing a school chantey:

  "He's the stuff, He treats 'em rough, He gives 'em easily more than enough. He's awful tough He is no bluff, He made 'em look like a powder puff. He's fast and quick, They couldn't handle ball or stick. He's winning Dick, They got his kick, They think they're slaughtered with a brick!"

  And so on for half a dozen or so silly verses of the kind, Gus,meanwhile, suffering both physically and mentally, for being thus tossedabout is by no means comfortable, and his modesty was such as to makehim want to run and hide.

  And then the gang went for Bill, but Doctor Field protected him and theyexpended their enthusiasm on Captain Siebold, Sadler and little Kerry,the catcher. After which Guilford asked for a return match, but the termwas nearly ended and that must go over until next year.

  "I wish," said Bill to Doctor Field, as they journeyed homeward, "thatTony Sabaste could have been here to see this game."