CHAPTER XXI
EAGER HEARTS
"The battery for Yale will be Weston and Kendall, and for Cornell----"
But the last announcement was given no heed by the supporters of theblue--at least by the players themselves, the substitutes, and JoeMatson in particular. A murmur went around.
"Weston! Weston's going to pitch!"
"After the work Baseball Joe's done too!"
"Why, Weston isn't in form."
"Oh, he's practiced hard lately."
"Yes, and he was doing some hot warming-up work a little while ago. Iguess they'll pitch him all right."
"He must have put up a kick, and Hasbrook gave in to him."
"It looks so, and yet Horsehide generally doesn't play a man unless hecan make good. That's Yale's way."
These were only a few of the comments that were being heard on allsides. The Yale team looked somewhat amazed, and then, lest theirenemies find out that they feared they had a weak spot, they braced up,smiled and acted as if it was a matter of course. And, as far as Cornellwas concerned, they knew that there was rivalry between Weston and Joe,but as a pitcher is an uncertain quantity at best, they were notsurprised that the 'varsity twirler whom they had faced the seasonbefore should again occupy the mound. It might be a part of the game tosave Matson until later.
"Tough luck, Joe," said Spike, as he passed his friend.
"Yes--Oh, I don't know! I hadn't any right to expect to pitch!"
Joe tried to be brave about it, but there was a sore feeling in hisheart. He had hoped to go into the game.
"Sure you had a right to expect it!" declared Spike. "You're the logicalpitcher. There's been some funny work going on, I'm sure. Weston haspulled off something."
"Be careful, Spike."
"Oh, I'm sure of it. Why, look at Horsehide's face!"
Joe glanced at the head coach. Indeed the countenance of Mr. Hasbrookpresented a study. He seemed puzzled as he turned away from a somewhatspirited conversation with Mr. Benson. For an instant his eyes met thoseof Joe, and the young pitcher thought he read in them pity, and yet atrace of doubt.
"I wonder if he has lost confidence in me?" thought Joe. "I wonder if hethinks I can't pitch in a big game?"
Yet he knew in his own heart that he had not gone back--he was sure hecould pitch better than he ever had before. The days at Yale, playingwith young men who were well-nigh professionals, had given himconfidence he had not possessed before, and he realized that he wasdeveloping good control of the ball, as well as speed and curves.
"I wonder why he didn't pitch me?" mused Joe.
"Play ball!" called the umpire, and the hearts of all were eager for thebattle of stick and horsehide to begin. Cornell went to the bat first,and Weston faced his man. There was a smile of confidence on thepitcher's face, as he wound up, and delivered a few practice balls toKendall. Then he nodded as if satisfied, and the batter stepped up tothe plate.
"Strike!" called the umpire, at the first delivery, and there was amurmur of amazement. The batter himself looked a bit confused, but madeno comment. The ball had gone cleanly over the plate, though it lookedas if it was going to shoot wide, and the player had thought to let itpass. Weston smiled more confidently.
He was hit for a foul, but after getting three and two he struck thebatter out, and there was a round of applause.
"I couldn't have done it any better myself," said Joe, with honestpraise for his rival.
"Wait," advised Spike. "Weston's got to last over eight more innings tomake good, and he'll never do it."
But when he struck out the next man, and the third had retired on alittle pop fly, Yale began to rise in her might and sing the beginningof a song of victory.
"Oh, we've got the goods!" her sons yelled.
"How's that for pitching?" demanded someone.
Joe joined in the cheer that was called for Weston, but his heart wasstill sore, for he felt that those cheers might have been for him. Buthe was game, and smiled bravely.
Yale managed to get one run during the last half of the first inning,and once more the sons of Eli arose and sent forth a storm of cheers,songs and college cries.
"Go back home, Cornell!" they screamed.
But the Cornell host smiled grimly. They were fighters from start tofinish.
Joe noticed that Weston did not seem quite so confident when he came tothe mound the second time. There was an exchange of signals between himand the catcher, and Weston seemed to be refusing to do what was wanted.After getting three and two on his man, the batter sent out a high onethat the left fielder was unable to connect with, and the runner reachedsecond.
"Never mind, play for the next one," advised Kendall, and though therunner stole third, Weston pitched the second man out. Then, whether itwas nervousness or natural inability cropping out at the wrong time, wasnot known, but the pitcher "went up in the air."
With only one out, and a man on third, he began to be hit for disastrousresults. He made wild throws, and the whole team became so demoralizedthat costly errors were made. The result was that Cornell had four runswhen the streak was stopped.
"We've got to do better than this," declared the head coach, as the Yalemen came in to bat. "Rap out a few heavy ones. Show 'em what Yale can doin a pinch."
They tried, but Cornell was fighting mad now, with the scent of victoryto urge her players on. The best Yale could do was two, leaving theiropponents one ahead at the beginning of the third.
And then Weston went to pieces more than ever, though in the intervalhis arm had been rubbed and treated by the trainer. He had complainedthat it was stiff.
I shall not give all the details of that game. Yale wanted to forget itafter it was over. But when, at the ending of the fifth inning, thescore stood eight to four in favor of Cornell there was a quickconsultation among the coaches. What was said could not be heard, butMr. Hasbrook seemed to be insisting on something to which the other twowould not agree. Finally Horsehide threw up his hands in a gesture ofdespair.
"Avondale, take the mound!" he exclaimed.
"Avondale!" gasped the players. The scrub pitcher to go in and Joe, whowas his master, kept on the bench? It was incredible.
"Well, what do you know about that?" demanded Spike. "I've a good notionto----"
"Be quiet!" begged Joe. "They know what they're doing."
But it seems they did not, for Avondale was worse by far than Weston hadbeen. He was hit unmercifully, and three more runs came in. But he hadto stick it out, and when the miserable inning for Yale ended he wentdejectedly to the bench.
Weston, who had been having his arm rubbed again, and who had beenpracticing with a spare catcher, looked hopeful. But this time,following another conference of coaches, Mr. Hasbrook evidently had hisway. Fairly running over to where Joe sat the head coach exclaimed:
"Quick--get out there and warm up. You'll pitch the rest of the game.It's a forlorn hope, but we'll take it!"
Joe's face shone as he ripped off his sweater, grabbed up a ball and hismitt, and started for the practice stretch. His heart was in a tumult,but he calmed himself and began his work.
But it was too much to expect to pull the contest out of the fire bysuch desperate and late-day methods. In the part of the game he pitchedJoe allowed but one hit, and with howls of delight his friends watchedhim mow down the Cornell batters. Not another run came in, but the leadof the visitors was too big, and Yale could not overcome it, though hersons did nobly, rising to the support of Joe in great style.
"Well, it's over," remarked Spike gleefully as he caught Joe's arm atthe close of the contest.
"You seem glad that Yale lost," said the pitcher.
"Never! But I'm glad you showed 'em what you could do when you had thechance. If you'd gone in first Yale would have won!"
"Oh, you think so--do you?" sneered a voice behind them. They turnedquickly, to see Ford Weston, scowling with rage.
"Yes, I do," declared Spike boldly.
"Then you've got another thi
nk coming!" was the retort. "I'm the'varsity pitcher, and I'm going to hold on to the job!"