CHAPTER XXIX.

FARDALE’S FIRST RUN.

“You saved us that time, old man,” smiled Merriwell, with his hand on Darrell’s arm. “That was clever backing up.”

Darrell flushed and looked pleased over this compliment.

As Dick reached the bench, Wiley rose and said:

“Mate Richard, if you wish to put yonder perfidious rogue out of the game, and thus give yourself a fair chance with an honest umpire, I stand ready to take my solemn oath that I know he is crooked. While on the train to-day I heard some of those fellows saying they had the umpire fixed. If you permit him to continue his sinuous course you are destined to lose this game.”

“Are you telling me the truth when you say you heard such a thing on the train?” asked Dick.

Wiley gave a little sob.

“How can you doubt my veracity?” he murmured. “Here is Abe. He heard it also. Am I not speaking the unadulterated and undefiled truth, Abe?”

“It is true,” declared the hunchback.

Immediately Dick called Captain Madison.

“Look here, Madison,” he said grimly, “we want another umpire.”

“Oh, do you?” sneered the captain of the visiting team. “You want everything your own way I presume. Well, we are satisfied with this umpire.”

“I am not.”

“That makes no difference to me. He will stay in there until the game is finished.”

“I don’t think so,” retorted Dick quietly. “I have evidence that there is a double deal in this affair. I have the proof, Madison. Some of your players were heard saying that the umpire was fixed.”

“Who said so?”

“Come up here to the bench.”

Madison followed Dick to the bench.

“Here is the man who says so,” said Merriwell, indicating Wiley, who bowed gracefully and smiled serenely into Madison’s face.

“That chap?” sneered the Franklin captain. “Why, who would believe him?”

“He is not the only one who heard it,” asserted Dick. “We want no trouble here, Madison; but we’re looking for a square deal and we propose to have it. You named this chap as umpire, and we agreed to him, even though we were not fully satisfied. It was my desire to please you fellows. Are you here to win a square game? or are you here to steal one?”

Madison flushed and looked furious.

“I don’t like that sort of talk, Merriwell!” he exclaimed.

“I presume you don’t. All Fardale asks is a square deal. You know as well as I do that I didn’t get a square deal in the last inning. I know as well as you do that there has been monkey business with that umpire.”

“An umpire can’t be taken out of a game after it begins.”

“He can, if both captains agree on his removal.”

“If you don’t like the way this game is going, I can take my team and go home,” declared Madison threateningly.

“If you do so, Nort, you know Fardale will refuse to have any dealings whatever with you in the future. You have a good lead in the game now, and you may win it. If you wish to quit under such circumstances, why—go ahead.”

“What will you do if I don’t quit? What will you do if I simply decline to change umpires, and continue the game?”

“I shall step out onto the field and make an announcement. I shall state for all to hear just what I know in regard to that umpire.”

“Oh, well, we won’t have any fuss over it!” exclaimed Nort, suddenly weakening. “I don’t want to keep a fellow in there that you’re kicking about. Go ahead and take him out?”

“Who shall we put in his place?”

“Any one you please. I don’t care. Where is your regular umpire?”

“Tell you what we will do,” said Dick. “We will take a man from the bench and you take one of your men, and we will let the two finish umpiring the game. That will make it perfectly satisfactory on both sides. What do you say to that?”

“All right; I’m agreeable,” nodded Madison.

The umpire was greatly astonished when he was called to leave the field. He walked off in high indignation, expressing his feelings in mutterings.

The approval of this act on the part of the two captains came from the cadets and the spectators in a burst of applause.

The game continued with two of the substitutes acting as umpires, Obediah Tubbs being one of these, while Franklin furnished the other. These fellows alternated with every inning in deciding on the balls and strikes, so that both sides were given a fair show.

Merriwell was the first batter up for Fardale in the third inning, and, after having two strikes called on him, he hit a grounder past Gibbs, secured first on it, turned toward second, and drew the ball from Jarley, to whom it had been returned by Gannon. Jarley snapped the ball over so quickly in order to catch Dick that he made a bad throw.

Madison stretched himself for it, but barely touched it with the end of his mitt.

Dick danced down to second.

“Now that’s too bad!” piped the voice of Ted Smart. “I’m just as sorry as I can be! I am afraid we’re going to get some scores!”

“Don’t be afraid, little fellow,” said Gibbs mockingly. “There is not the least danger of it.”

“Oh, I am so anxious!” said Ted. “I am so nervous and excited! Why, I should just hate to see us getting any scores now!”

As Darrell walked out to bat he glanced toward Dick, who was on second, and received a signal to bunt.

Although Darrell longed to swing hard at the ball, he obeyed the signal, and bunted toward first base, doing his best to outrun the ball.

Dick was off for third almost before Hal bunted toward first base, and he secured it easily. In the confusion Darrell reached first safely.

Black knew his business, and refused to go after the first ball pitched to him, although it was a good one. This gave Hal a chance to try to steal second, and he improved it. Dickson snapped the ball to Westcott, who turned like a flash and threw it to Tipton. Although this was done swiftly, Hal slid under Tipton and lay with his hand on the bag as the ball came into the second baseman’s hand. Dick made a fake dash off third, so that Tipton did not attempt to tag Darrell. Instead he threw the ball to Gibbs, but threw it so high that Gibbs was compelled to spring into the air for it.

Immediately Madison’s voice was heard ordering his players to stop throwing the ball around in such a manner. Tipton’s high throw had frightened him, for Dick would have scored easily had Gibbs failed to catch it.

The cadets now had an opportunity to cheer their team on, and they began singing “Fardale’s Way.”

Chester Arlington joined earnestly in this song:

“It’s no use groaning, it’s no use moaning, It’s no use feeling sore; Keep on staying, keep on playing, As you’ve done before; Fight, you sinner, you’re a winner, If you stick and stay; Never give in while you’re living— That is Fardale’s way!”

Wiley sat on the bench, and smiled serenely as his ears drank in this song.

“Surely this is salubrious,” he murmured. “This is the real stuff. Reminds me of my college days when I used to warble the songs of my dear old alma mater.”

Black also glanced toward Dick, who again gave a signal to bunt. Black bunted the first ball pitched, dropping it down about eight feet in front of the plate and off to one side toward third.

Dick was on his way for the home plate even before the bat touched the ball. He had taken chances on Black’s success in bunting safely and started as soon as Westcott swung his arm.

Westcott caught up the ball and snapped it to Dickson, but was too late. Dick had scored. At the same time Darrell had moved up to third, and Black reached first in safety.

“I am willing to admit the kids know how to play the game,” chuckled Wiley. "This would not please Frank Wilbur. He believes in beefing it out. He has a delectable little habit of sitting on the bleachers and youping persistently: ‘Beef it! beef it! beef it!’ That may have been the style of playing in his day, but modern baseball is somewhat different."

Dave Flint was not a first-class bunter. For this reason Dick gave Dave a signal to hit the ball.

Flint did hit it. He met it full and fair, and sent it onto a dead line into the hands of Jarley, who was almost lifted off his feet.

Nevertheless the Franklin shortstop clung to the ball and snapped it over to third so quickly that Darrell was caught off the bag and put out.

This brought a yell of joy from the Franklin crowd.

“Hard luck, Dave,” said Dick, as Flint returned to the bench.

“Bad judgment!” declared Flint. “I tried to drive it ten feet to the right of him, and I put it straight into his hands.”

“Well, you did your best,” said Dick, “and that’s all any one can do. Angels can do no better, you know.”

“It’s a shame!” declared the boy with the scarred cheek, as he sat down on the bench. “We had a chance to win this game right there!”

“The chance will come again,” asserted young Merriwell confidently. “It is not over yet. Black is on second and Gardner has a crack. A single to right field may score Black.”

But now Westcott aroused himself, and, although Gardner tried his level best to make a hit, it was no use. He finally struck out, and at the close of the third inning the score stood three to one in Franklin’s favor.

“Why, this is a fine little game!” nodded Wiley. “This is the sort of a game to provide undiluted amusement for the numerous visitors assembled to observe the seething conflict.”

Suddenly Abe clutched the sailor nervously, as he exclaimed:

“There! there! That umpire is talking to the sandy man who watched me! Look at him!”

“There must be a hazy cloud over my optics,” said Wiley, “for I assure you I fail to see the parties in question. Where are they?”

“Over there in the crowd,” declared the boy, pointing. “They saw me! The sandy man has gone again!”

“Abe, what you need is something for your nerves. When I get that way I take a little spirits fermenti.”

Although Abe declared he was certain he was being watched, Wiley fancied it a case of nervousness and gave little attention to anything save the game.