CHAPTER XXIII
MR. BRENT THROWS A BALL
If that Saturday had been manufactured to Mr. Potter's order it couldn'thave been finer. There was a bright blue sky overhead and not a cloudbigger than a handkerchief to be seen. A westerly breeze, bearing thefirst hint of Autumn, cooled the ardor of the sun. Clearfield had a galalook as soon as the shades at the store windows were drawn in themorning. Touches of purple appeared everywhere. By ten o'clock thedowntown streets began to show the incursion of visitors from theneighboring villages and even from the country and the stores reaped asmall harvest. At noon Common Street in the vicinity of the field waswell lined with sidewalk vendors of peanuts and popcorn, lemonade andsoft drinks, while in a vacant lot near-by a hustling gentleman with ablue-black mustache and a yellow corduroy coat had set up amerry-go-round whose strident organ ground out a repertory of four tunesmonotonously from forenoon to midnight. Small boys with purple pennantsbearing white C's importuned passers to show their patriotism at theexpense of a quarter of a dollar and other small boys flaunted copies ofthe morning _Reporter_. "Line-up of to-day's game! Here you are!_Reporter!_ Only two cents!"
The reserved seat tickets on sale at Howland's gave out at eleveno'clock, and at twelve, after a hasty conference over the telephone withDick, Mr. Potter had a load of lumber and four carpenters at the fielderecting sixty extra seats.
At one, even before the last nail had been driven, the drug storereported that they had again sold out. "Sell fifty more," telephoned Mr.Potter, "and mark them 'Bench!'" Then he hurried to Odd Fellows' Hallwith a moving-van and transferred ten settees from there to the ballgrounds and placed them in a double row all along the third base line.After that he threw up his hands.
Shortly before noon a blue runabout, with its brass glistening radiantlyand its newly varnished surface reflecting back the sunlight, stopped infront of the carriage gate at the field and honked its horn. After whichGordon, who rode beside the operator, jumped to the ground, climbed thefence and unbarred the gates from inside. Then Morris drove in, Gordondropped the bar back in place and climbed into the car again and theblue runabout ambled across the white foul line and stopped a few feetfrom the home plate, with its glistening radiator pointed at thegrandstand.
"That's my last ride in her," said Morris regretfully as he got out.
"Oh, I don't know," said Gordon. "He may give you a lift some time."
Morris smiled. "I meant the last time I'd run her," he amended. "Gee,but I kind of hate to give her up, Gordon."
"She's a nice little car," replied the other, "even if she did try tobreak your neck for you. And she certainly looks dandy. And she runs aswell as ever, doesn't she?"
"Better, it seems to me. I suppose she's getting the stiffness out ofher. Well, we'd better hike along to dinner. You're sure your motherwon't mind having me, Gordon?"
"She expects you. I telephoned I was bringing you. Come on."
It was long before two o'clock when the crowd began moving toward thefield. Stewart, the liveryman, ran carriages from the station to theentrance and did a good business. At a few minutes before two Gordon andDick and Lanny arrived. Mr. Potter was already on hand, instructing thetwo boys who were acting as ushers and keeping an eye on the amateurticket seller at the gate. Tim Turner stood inside and took the tickets,dropping them into a tin box and looking as professional as you please.Dick's gaze found the automobile the instant he was inside and hestopped short and stared at it. And no wonder, for a blue runaboutplaced imposingly in the center of a baseball diamond is about asincongruous a sight as one often sees.
"Wh-what the dickens!" gasped Dick.
"Oh, that?" said Gordon. "That's the car that Morris just sold. Lookspretty well, doesn't it? Come on in the dressing-room."
"But what's it doing there?" asked Dick. "Whose is it?"
"I suppose someone left it there. Gee, Dick, look at the crowd herealready! We'll have to have groundrules if they keep coming!"
"Yes, I guess so. But--that car! It can't stand there, Gordie!"
"Of course not. It'll be out of the way by the time we're ready topractice, I dare say. There's Tom. Come on. We'd better get changed. Itmust be almost two."
Dick followed them into the dressing-room without further remarks, butit was plain to be seen that the incident of the misplaced automobilewas occupying his thoughts. Most of the team had arrived and in anothermoment Dick found enough to attend to and talk about without furtherbothering his head with the blue runabout. The Point team came in a fewminutes later and then there was a fine confusion and noise in there.Everyone was in the best of spirits and there was no sign of animositybetween the opponents. One might have thought, were it not for thedifference in costumes, that the two dozen or so fellows were team-matesrather than rivals. It was the first time that most of the Clearfieldfellows had seen the Rutter's Point players in their new togs, and theyhad to acknowledge that the white suits and blue-and-yellow-stripedstockings were very attractive.
Of course Harold was there, score-book under arm, following Dick aroundclosely. And Morris, too, in his capacity of honorary member of thevisiting nine. Probably he would have been welcome in any case, forto-day was to witness the formal transfer of the field, in Morris'sname, from Mr. Brent to the High School. Mr. Grayson, who had arrivedhome the day before, was to attend and Morris was to deliver the deed tohim, as a sort of added attraction. Morris, however, didn't appearoppressed by his importance, a fact which his companions were quick tonotice and approve.
At five minutes past the two teams went out to the diamond, and as theyappeared, the band, massed fourteen strong in front of the grandstand,broke into the triumphal strains of "See the Conquering Hero Comes." Bythat time the stand was filled to overflowing, the extra seats were welloccupied and the settees sprinkled, while around the diamond what lookedto the startled gaze of the players to be a vast assemblage sat orstood.
"Jumpin' Jupiter!" muttered Fudge, his eyes very big and round."S-s-s-say, Jack, I won't b-b-b-be able to c-c-catch a thing!"
"I guess we'll all have stage-fright," replied Jack Tappen, with arather nervous laugh. "Who would have thought all this crowd would havecome? And look at the gate! They're still coming, Fudge!"
"G-g-guess I'll s-s-s-sneak home," said Fudge.
Dick was frankly puzzled. Instead of trotting into the field to beginpractice, his charges were lounging over toward the plate, and with themwent the Point team. Then Dick's eyes fell on that blue runabout again,and he frowned and followed the players, who by this time had gatheredabout it. Harold, who never allowed Dick to get more than six feet awayfrom him, went, too.
"Someone will have to get that car out of here," announced Dickimpatiently. "Whose is it, anyway?"
As the band, which had been blaring forth a twostep, stopped suddenly ata signal from Gordon, just in the middle of Dick's pronouncement, hefinished it in a voice which, owing to the silence, was audible halfwayto the outfield. A ripple of amusement came from the nearer seats. Dick,embarrassed by events and by an impending something that he sensed,looked blankly about the grinning faces.
"Wh-what's the matter?" he faltered, appealing to Gordon.
Gordon cleared his throat and took a step forward. The rest of theplayers shuffled into the semblance of a half-circle behind him andabout the blue car. The audience, none of them in the secret but allsuspecting interesting developments, grew very still.
"Dick," began Gordon, very red of countenance and nervous of manner,"we--that is----"
"Go to it, Gordie," murmured Lanny encouragingly. Gordon took a deepbreath and another start:
"The Clearfield Baseball Club, in recognition of your services asmanager and--and in token of its esteem and----"
"Respect and esteem," prompted Lanny, _sotto voce_.
----"Respect and esteem," corrected Gordon, who had prepared his speechwith much care and had now pretty well forgotten it, "desires to presentto you this automobile, in the hope--er--in the hope----"
"That
it will provide----"
"----That it will provide both comfort and pleasure. It is with much--itis with much----"
Gordon looked imploringly at Lanny, but Lanny's gaze was fixed blanklyon space. He, too, had forgotten the lines! Fudge gave way to hisnervousness and giggled. Gordon waved his hand toward the car. "And wehope you'll like it," he ended breathlessly.
There was an instant's silence, and then came a joyous screech fromHarold. That was the signal for much hand-clapping and other evidencesof applause from the spectators who, although Gordon's speech had notbeen audible to them, had by this time gathered that someone was beingpresented with the natty blue automobile. Dick, rather white of face,smiled.
"I--I----" he began. Then he faltered. When he went on his voice washusky. "Thank you, fellows," he said. "I don't see why you did it,but--but I appreciate it more than I can say. And--I can't make aspeech, so I'll just say thank you and--you'll have to understand thatit means a lot more than I can put in words!"
Then they cheered quite madly, being heartily glad to be over with theembarrassment, and flocked around him and shook hands just as thoughthey hadn't seen him for months!
"'It is with much pride that we offer this small token,'" said Lannyexplosively in Gordon's ear. Gordon laughed derisively.
"What's the good now?" he demanded. "Why didn't you say that two minutesago? You're a fine one to help a fellow!"
"Why didn't you remember it yourself?" asked Lanny, in an injured voice."Gee! You wrote it, didn't you?"
Morris jumped into the driver's seat of the car and Dick, impelled byfriendly hands, climbed in beside him. Will Scott spun the crank, theengine purred, and, to the cheers and laughter of the fellows and theenthusiastic applause of the spectators, the blue runabout chuggedaround the field and back into an angle of the grandstand, while theband played loudly.
"I'll show you how to run it in two days, Dick," Morris said, as theycircled the diamond. "You'll find it's as easy as anything you everdid."
"Did you know about it?" asked Dick curiously.
"Sure. It was Gordon's scheme; but he told me what he wanted to do anddad and I were strong for it."
"But--but where'd they get the money?" asked Dick.
"They haven't got it yet," chuckled Morris. "You have it!"
"I have----Oh, the baseball money!"
"Surest think you know, Dick!"
"Oh!" Dick gave a sigh of relief. "I was afraid they'd paid for it outof their pockets or--or somehow. I--I knew for two or three weeks thatthey were up to something, but I never suspected this. Say, doesn't itjust get there!"
"She's a fine little car," agreed Morris proudly, as he brought it to astop behind the extra seats. "And I'll just bet you'll be crazy abouther, Dick, in a week!"
"I guess I'm sort of crazy about her now," murmured Dick.
There was still another ceremony to be gone through with; in fact, two.The first was performed a minute later when Morris, taking a foldedsheet of paper from his pocket, walked across to the front of thegrandstand, accompanied by the players, and with a neat but brief speechformally presented the deed of the athletic field to Mr. Grayson. Theprincipal, however, wasn't going to miss the opportunity to indulge ineloquence, and his speech of thanks went on for quite five minutes. Itwas a very good speech, too, but few heard it, for the spectators out ofear-shot were clamoring for the game to begin. When he had finished andbowed and taken his seat again, there was more applause, and the bassdrum boomed ecstatically and Gordon led three cheers for Mr. Brent, andat last the home team trotted on to the diamond and the visitors beganpassing and warming up at one side.
By that time it was nearly the hour set for the game to begin, andalmost every available spot on the field was occupied by spectators.Four of Clearfield's modest police force were on duty in the outfield,patrolling back and forth, restraining the advance of the crowds whichstretched along the continuations of the foul lines.
On the "press stand," a kitchen table and two straight-backed chairs atthe end of the home team's bench, stood the silver trophy on its ebonystand. Around the base was twined the purple silk pennant with the white"C." At the "press stand" sat Mr. Potter, his straw hat tilted back onhis head, a pile of yellow copy paper in front of him and a big cigartucked in the corner of his mouth. Mr. Potter, looking proudly about thecrowded field, was happy. Apparently all the pennants had beenpurchased, for they waved on all sides, and flashes of purple glowedeverywhere in the sunlight; everywhere, that is to say, except in onesmall section of the main stand, where the Rutter's Point contingent,some fifty strong, waved blue-and-yellow flags and cheered for theirheroes.
Dick, leaning on his crutches near first base, allowed his gaze towander a minute from the work of his charges toward the crowded seats.There were his mother and Grace up there, and, farther along, Mr. andMrs. Brent and Louise--and Morris just returning to his place besidethem. Strangely enough, Louise happened to be looking just as Dickglanced her way, and nodded and waved. Dick took off his hat in answer.A second later he was bowing again, for Mrs. Townsend was waving herblue-and-yellow banner toward him.
Then, presently, the home team yielded the diamond to the visitors, andDick went back to the bench with them. Harold was sharpening his pencilsas Dick took his place beside him.
"Dick," he said, in a low voice, "I hope you win."
"Thanks, Harold! That's treachery, isn't it, though?"
Harold frowned and shook his head. "Can't help it," he muttered. "I do,anyway."
The umpires were Mr. Cochran, of the Y.M.C.A., chosen by Clearfield, andMr. Vokes, who had officiated at the first game between the two teams,the Point's selection. The latter gentleman was on bases and Mr. Cochranumpired at the plate. At twenty minutes to three Clearfield trotted intothe field to the cheers of the audience, and Gordon, taking a nice newball from Mr. Cochran, ascended the stand to where Mr. Brent sat.
"Mr. Brent," said Gordon, "we'd like very much to have you throw out theball to us, sir, if you don't mind."
"Throw out the ball!" exclaimed Mr. Brent. "How--how do I do it?"
"Just stand up, sir, and toss it to Tom Haley, down there."
Mr. Brent looked doubtful, but Morris and Louise urged him on, andfinally he got to his feet, measured the distance anxiously, clutchedthe ball with a death-like grip, and hurled it toward Tom. It went ayard over his head, and was fielded by Harry Bryan near second! But thatdidn't matter! Everyone cheered just as hard!