CHAPTER X
BITTERNESS
Joe glanced over to where Gregory sat on the bench, from which he wouldengineer this first game of the season. The manager caught the eye ofthe young pitcher, and something in Joe's manner must have told theveteran that his latest recruit was nervous. He signalled to Joe to trya few practice balls, and our hero nodded comprehensively.
The batter stepped back from the plate, and Joe thought he detected asmile of derision at his own newness, and perhaps rawness.
"But I'll show him!" whispered Joe fiercely to himself, as he clinchedhis teeth and stung in the ball. It landed in the mitt of the catcherwith a resounding thud.
"That's the boy!" called Gregory to him. "You'll do, old man. Sting inanother."
Joe threw with all his force, but there was a sickening fear in hisheart that he was not keeping good control over the ball. Nelsonsignalled to him to hold his curves in a little more, and Joe nodded toshow he understood.
"Play ball!" drawled the umpire again, and the batter took his place atthe plate.
Joe looked at the man, and reviewing the baseball "dope" he recalledthat the player batted well over .300, and was regarded as the despairof many pitchers.
"If I could only strike him out!" thought Joe.
His first ball went a little wild. He realized that it was going to be apoor one as soon as it left his hand, but he could not for the life ofhim recover in time.
"Ball one!" yelled the umpire.
"That's the way!"
"Make him give you what you want!"
"Wait for a pretty one!"
"That's their ten thousand dollar college pitcher! Back to the bench forhis!"
These were only a few of the remarks, sarcastic and otherwise, thatgreeted Joe's first performance. He felt the hot blood rush to his face,and then, as he stepped forward to receive the ball which the catchertossed back to him, he tried to master his feelings. The catcher shookhis head in a certain way, to signal to Joe to be on his guard. Joelooked over at Gregory, who did not glance at him.
"I'll do better this time!" whispered Joe, fiercely.
He deliberated a moment before hurling in the next ball.
"Here goes a home run! Clout it over the fence, Pike!" called anenthusiastic "fan" in a shrill voice and the crowd laughed.
"Not if I know it!" muttered Joe.
The ball clipped the corner of the plate cleanly, and the batter, whohad made a half motion to hit at it, refrained.
"Strike one!" yelled the umpire, throwing up his arm.
"That's the way, Matson!"
"Two more like that and he's a dead one!"
Joe caught the signal for a drop, but shook his head. He was going totry another out. Again his catcher signalled for a drop, but Joe was,perhaps, a trifle obstinate. He felt that he had been successful oncewith an out, and he was going to do it again. The catcher finally noddedin agreement, though reluctantly.
Joe shot in a fast one, and he knew that he had the ball under perfectcontrol. Perhaps he was as disappointed as any of the home players whenthere came a resounding crack, and the white sphere sailed aloft, andwell out over centre field.
"That's the way, Pike! Two bags anyhow!"
But the redoubtable Pike was to have no such good fortune, for thecentre fielder, after a heart-breaking run, got under the fly and caughtit, winning much applause from the crowd for his plucky effort.
"One down!" called Gregory, cheerfully. "Only two more, Joe."
Joe wished that he had struck out his man, but it was some consolationto know that he was being supported by good fielding.
The next man up had a ball and a strike called on him, and Joe was a bitpuzzled as to just what to offer. He decided on a swift in, and thoughtit was going to make good, but the batter was a crafty veteran, andmanaged to connect with the ball. He sent a swift liner which theshortstop gathered in, however, and there was another added to the listof outs.
"One more and that'll be about all!" called the Pittston catcher. Joethrew the ball over to first for a little practice, while the nextbatter was picking out his stick, and then came another try.
"I've got to strike him out!" decided the young pitcher. "I've got tomake good!"
His heart was fluttering, and his nerves were not as calm as theyought to have been. He stooped over and made a pretence of tying hisshoe-lace. When he straightened up he had, in a measure, gained amastery of himself. He felt cool and collected.
In went the ball with certain aim, and Joe knew that it was just what hehad intended it should be.
"Strike!" called the umpire, though the batter had not moved. There wassome laughter from the grandstand, and the batter tapped the platenervously. Joe smiled.
"Good work!" called Gregory from the bench.
Again the ball went sailing in, but this time Joe's luck played him ashabby trick, or perhaps the umpire was not watching closely. CertainlyJoe thought it a strike, but "ball" was called. Joe sent in the next oneso quickly that the batter was scarcely prepared for it. But it wasperfectly legitimate and the umpire howled:
"Strike two!"
"That's the boy!"
"Good work!"
"Another like that now, Joe!"
Thus cried the throng. Gregory looked pleased.
"I guess Mack didn't make any mistake picking him up," he said.
The batter knocked a little foul next, that the catcher tried in vain toget. And then, when he faced Joe again, our hero sent in such a puzzlingdrop that the man was deceived and struck out.
"That's the boy!"
"What do you think of our ten thousand dollar college pitcher now?"
"Come on, Clevefield! He's got some more just like that!"
The home team and its supporters were jubilant, and Joe felt a sense ofelation as he walked in to the bench.
"Now see what my opponent can do," he murmured.
McGuinness was an old time pitcher, nothing very remarkable, but one anysmall club would be glad to get. He had the "number" of most of thePittston players, and served them balls and strikes in such order thatthough two little pop flies were knocked no one made a run. The resultof the first inning was a zero for each team.
"Now Joe, be a little more careful, and I think you can get three goodones," said Gregory, as his team again took the field.
"I'll try," replied Joe, earnestly.
He got two men, but not the third, who knocked a clean two-bagger, amidenthusiastic howls from admiring "fans."
This two-base hit seemed to spell Joe's undoing, for the next manduplicated and the first run was scored. There were two out, and itlooked as though Clevefield had struck a winning streak, for the nextman knocked what looked to be good for single. But Bob Newton, the rightfielder, caught it, and the side was retired with one run.
Pittston tried hard to score, but the crafty pitcher, aided by effectivefielding, shut them out, and another zero was their portion on the scoreboard.
"Joe, we've got to get 'em!" exclaimed Gregory, earnestly.
"I'll try!" was the sturdy answer.
It was heart-breaking, though, when the first man up singled, and thencame a hit and run play. Joe was not the only player on the Pittstonteam who rather lost his head that inning. For, though Joe was hitbadly, others made errors, and the net result was that Clevefield hadfour runs to add to the one, while Pittston had none.
They managed, however, to get two in the following inning, more by goodluck than good management, and the game began to look, as Jimmie Macksaid, as though the other team had it in the "refrigerator."
How it happened Joe never knew, but he seemed to go to pieces. Probablyit was all a case of nerves, and the realization that this game meantmore to him than any college contest.
However that may be, the result was that Joe was effectively hit thenext inning, and when it was over, and three more runs had come in,Gregory said sharply:
"Collin, you'll pitch now!"
It meant that Joe had been "knocked out of the
box."
"We've got to get this game!" explained the manager, not unkindly. ButJoe felt, with bitterness in his heart, that he had failed.