CHAPTER III
ONE LAST GAME
"Say, Tom, do you know what I've got a good notion to do?"
"Indeed I haven't, Joe, unless you're going to go out West and shootIndians, or some such crazy stunt as that."
"Forget it! But you know I've got to start for Yale in about anotherweek."
"That's right. The time is getting short. Excelsior opens four days fromnow, but I'm not going to drill in with the first bunch. I don't have toreport quite so soon. I'm a Senior now, you know."
"So you are. I almost wish I was with you."
"Oh, nonsense! And you going to Yale! But what was it you started tosay?"
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Say, why can't we have one last game beforewe have to leave town? One rattling good game of baseball to wind up theseason! I'd just love to get into a uniform again, and I guess you wouldtoo. Can't we pick up enough of the old Silver Stars to make a nine,with what we can induce to play from among the lads in town?"
"I guess so."
"Then let's do it. The Resolute team is still in existence, isn't it?"
"Yes, but I haven't kept much track of them. I've been away most allSummer, you know."
"And so have I, but I think we could get up a game for Saturday. Ibelieve we could get quite a crowd, but we wouldn't charge admission.What do you say?"
"I'm with you. It would be sport to have a game. I wonder how we canarrange for it?"
"I've got to go over to Rocky Ford for dad to-day," went on Joe, "andI'll see if I can't get in touch with some of the Resolutes. It may bethat they have a game on, and, again, they may have disbanded. But it'sworth trying. Then you see as many of the fellows here as you can, andget up a nine. There ought to be five or six of the old Silver Starsaround."
"I'll do it! Wow! It will be sport to get on the diamond again before wehave to buckle down to the grind."
"I hope I haven't forgotten how to pitch," went on Joe. "Let's get aball and do a little practising out in the lots."
The two chums, somewhat older, more experienced and certainly betterplayers than when we first met them, three years before, were soontossing the ball back and forth, Joe warming up to his accustomed workas a twirler.
"That was a beaut!" exclaimed Tom, who was catching.
"Did the curve break well?"
"Couldn't have been better. You'll fool 'em all right with that twist."
"I'm a little stiff yet. Well, let's see what we can do toward gettingup a game."
Joe went to Rocky Ford that afternoon, and was fortunate in finding thenew manager of the Resolutes, the one-time rivals of the Silver Stars.The team had greatly changed, and had been strengthened by some newplayers. They had not yet broken up for the season, and, as they had nogame on for Saturday, the manager readily agreed to come to Riversidewith his lads, and take on the Silver Stars in a sort of exhibitioncontest.
"I suppose you'll pitch?" spoke the manager, as Joe was about to leavefor home.
"Yes, I want to. Why?"
"Nothing, only maybe we better handicap your team, or else you'd betterallow us half a dozen runs to start with," was the laughing answer.
"I'm not as formidable as all that," retorted Joe. "Are any of the oldboys playing yet?"
"Oh, yes, quite a few. There's Art Church, Lew Entry, Ted Neefus andHank Armstrong."
"I'll be glad to see 'em again," spoke Joe.
When he reached Riverside late that afternoon Tom met him and gleefullyinformed his chum that he had been able to get up a nine.
"Then we'll have a game!" cried Joe. "Will you catch for me?"
"If you think I can."
"Sure you can. Wow! We'll have some fun."
The news of the coming game between the Silver Stars--or a team somewhatrepresenting them--and the Resolutes aroused considerable enthusiasm inRiverside and the neighboring towns. There was a prospect of a largethrong, and when Saturday came--with as fine a specimen of weather asheart could wish--there was a great outpouring of "fans."
The Silver Stars were first on the field, and though the team as thenconstituted had never played together, still after a little practicethey got acquainted with each other, and were soon working in unison.
Joe and Tom formed the battery, and they seemed an effective combinationas they warmed up outside the diamond. Then the Resolutes arrived andthey, too, began their practice.
"We're going to have a big crowd," remarked Joe, as he saw the standsfilling, for Riverside boasted of a fairly good field, where thesemi-professional team held forth in the Summer. But the season wasabout over now.
"It's like old times," remarked Tom. "Come on, now some hot ones tofinish up with, and then it'll be most time to call the game."
The details were arranged, the umpire chosen, the batting orderssubmitted, and the teams came in off the field. The Silver Stars were tobat last, and as Joe walked out to the mound to do the twirling, he wasgreeted by many friends and acquaintances who had not seen him since theSummer vacation had started. Some news of his prospective leaving forYale must have gotten around, for he was observed with curious, andsometimes envious eyes.
"Joe's getting to be quite a boy," remarked Mr. Jacob Anderson, one ofRiverside's enthusiastic baseball supporters, to his friend, Mr. JamesBlake.
"Yes, he's a wonderful pitcher, I hear. Seems sort of queer how the boysgrow up. Why, only a few years ago he was a small chap, playing aroundthe vacant lots."
"Yes, time does manage to scoot along," spoke the other. "Well, I guesswe'll see a good game."
As Joe and Tom paused for a brief consultation before opening theperformance, the catcher, glancing toward the grandstand, uttered asurprised exclamation.
"What's the matter?" asked Joe.
"That fellow with my sister--I meant to tell you about him. He was overto your house the other night, when he and sis, and Charlie Masterfordcalled on your sister."
"Oh, ho! So it was Charlie that Clara was fixing up for!" exclaimed Joe."I'll have some fun with her. I guess she's at the game to-day. But whatabout the fellow with your sister?"
"He's a Yale man."
"A Yale man--you mean a graduate?"
"No, he goes there now--Sophomore I heard sis say. She was boastingabout him, but I didn't pay much attention. I meant to tell you, but Iforgot it."
"A Yale man," mused Joe.
"Yes, that's him, with the flower in his coat. Sort of a sport I guess.Sis said he was on the nine, but I don't know where he plays. Like tomeet him? I don't know him myself, but I can get sis to present us. Shemet him at some dance this Summer, and found he had relatives here heintended to visit. She asked him to call--say, isn't it great how thegirls do that?--and he did--the other night. Then he must have made adate with her. Like to meet him? Name's--let's see now--I did have it.Oh, I remember, it's Weston--Ford Weston. Want to meet him after thegame?"
"No--I--I don't believe I do," said Joe slowly. "He may think I am sortof currying favor. I'll wait until I get to Yale, and then, if I get thechance, I'll meet him. He looks like a decent chap."
"Yes, Mabel is crazy about him," said Tom; "but all girls are that way Iguess. None for mine! Well, shall we start?"
The batter was impatiently tapping his stick on the home plate.
"Play ball!" called the umpire, and, as Joe walked to his place he gavea glance toward where Mabel Davis sat with a tall, good-looking chap.
"A Yale man," mused Joe, "and on the nine. I wonder what he'll think ofmy pitching?" and, somehow, our hero felt a bit nervous, and he wishedhe had not known of the presence of the collegian. As he began windingup to deliver the ball he fancied he detected an amused smile on theface of Ford Weston.