CHAPTER XII

_The Plan Succeeds_

Lattiser’s prediction proved true. On the first day of practice, after Haxton had spent two hours studying the candidates, he boldly posted a notice on the bulletin board, naming the fourteen players he had selected as members of the Varsity squad. Eight were veterans of the team of the preceding season; one was Jacobs, a youth who had tried for the team and who had been carried as a substitute; one was Wares, a new man who came highly recommended from a preparatory school, and the others were the rebels—Larry Kirkland, Trumbull, Winans and Katsura.

Even Larry was surprised to find that all four of them had been selected; and he was relieved, for secretly he had feared that Haxton, who was known to hold prejudice against the Japanese, would surrender on all other points and bar Katsura.

The announcement of the team make-up broke the opposition to Haxton and his methods. As Lattiser had shrewdly guessed, Haxton had selected, as regulars, the very men upon whom the “knockers” based their charges of unfairness, and left them nothing upon which to base their charges. There was an enthusiastic movement among the lower classmen, who thought they could play well, to organize a team to play the regulars, but they were defeated in a farcical game and, true to their promise, they ceased criticising and became loyal adherents of the Varsity. Sentiment in the school had been unified, and the college spirit of Cascade revived. Only one sore spot remained—and that was the enmity between Larry Kirkland and Harry Baldwin.

“If only we played different positions,” Larry lamented to Winans. “It seems as if I always have to fight that fellow. One or the other of us has to be third baseman of this team.”

“He has declared he wouldn’t play on a team with you,” remarked Winans. “I guess he’ll have to make good.”

Another surprise resulted, however. Haxton was too shrewd a judge of players not to see that he had found an excellent infielder in Kirkland, and much as he disliked the youth, who had been a stumbling block in his path, he could not afford to overlook such material, especially as Larry’s fielding and base-running in practice games had attracted the admiring attention of some of the upper classmen who knew the game. He hesitated to offend Baldwin, yet, as the practice games proceeded, it became evident to all on the field that Larry was much the better at third base, and the superior to Baldwin in all-around playing. On the eve of the game with St. Mary’s, the first of the important games with rival teams of rival institutions, Haxton announced the line-up of the team, placing Baldwin at third, Kirkland at short, and, even more surprising, sending Winans in as catcher and placing Torney, the regular Varsity catcher, a veteran of three seasons, at first base. The move undoubtedly strengthened the team as a whole, but Larry Kirkland knew Haxton had compromised with his own judgment in keeping Baldwin on third, and that he either should have been sent to third himself or placed on the bench. He was disappointed that Trumbull had not been chosen, but the enthusiasm of the big outfielder over the choice of two of his friends as regulars was so honest that it was recompense.

The game with St. Mary’s proved a desperate one. For seven innings the two teams, evenly matched, battled for supremacy, with the score tied, each team having scored once. Larry saw several opportunities wasted, but, remembering the advice of Krag, he maintained silence, and made no comments upon the failure of his fellows to take advantage of openings. He realized for the first time that he knew more of the generalship of the game than did Haxton, who plainly was limited in his knowledge of baseball strategy. Krag’s lectures, and his own experience with the Shasta View team, had taught him a great deal about the inside game that was unknown to the college boys.

With the score 1 to 1 in the first half of the eighth, the first batter for St. Mary’s drove a long two-base hit out to left field. Larry expected the next batter to sacrifice, and had crept forward a few paces to be in readiness in case the ball should be bunted toward him, when the batter slashed fiercely at the ball and drove it on the ground between Baldwin and Larry. It was Baldwin’s ball, although the chance was difficult, and as Baldwin was caught standing flat-footed, Larry leaped sideways and made a desperate effort to head off the hit. He reached the ball back at the edge of the grass, outside the base lines, and in such a position that to recover, turn and throw to first base in time was an impossibility. Like a flash he thought of another play and without looking he scooped the ball and threw it underhand to third base. The runner coming from second had hesitated as Larry tore across the base line in pursuit of the ball, and he was all of fifteen feet from the bag when Larry threw. The play was unexpected and brilliantly executed. If Baldwin caught the ball and touched the runner it meant that St. Mary’s hopes were dashed and that Cascade was saved temporarily from a dangerous position. But Baldwin did not catch the ball. Larry’s warning shout aroused him just in time to enable him to dodge, the ball flashed past his head, went to the grand stand and while the St. Mary’s adherents screamed their applause, one runner scored and another reached second base. Before the inning ended he, too, crossed the plate and the score was 3 to 1 in favor of the visitors.

Larry, hot and exasperated, returned to the bench. He was determined not to speak of the misplay that had resulted so disastrously, but when he reached the bench he found Haxton and Baldwin in a heated argument.

“Why don’t you keep your eyes open?” Haxton demanded. “If you had been keeping your eye on the ball it wouldn’t have happened.”

“That —— —— simply tried to show me up,” snarled Baldwin. “He knew the play was to first, and he threw to third because he saw I wasn’t watching.”

“It was the only way he could have played it,” retorted Haxton, exasperated. “Don’t try to shift the blame. You were asleep and now you’re trying to lay it on someone else.”

“I won’t play on a team with a mucker like that,” cried Baldwin, furious with anger. “He’s been trying to get my job ever since he came here and I won’t stand it.”

“All right—all right,” responded the now furious manager. “McAtee, you play short next inning and we’ll put Kirkland on third.”

Baldwin, stunned by the unexpected acceptance of his challenge, started to whine.

“Oh, say, Dick,” he pleaded, “I was mad—I didn’t mean it. Don’t put me out of the game—my girl is in the stand.”

“You must have been watching her instead of the ball,” snapped Haxton, too furious to relent.

Baldwin sprang to his feet, as if to strike the manager, and at that instant little Katsura, with a catlike move, seized his arm, gave it a quick twist, and Baldwin, half sobbing with pain, sank down, whimpering and holding his arm.

Suddenly he turned upon Larry Kirkland, cursing and half sobbing.

“You did this,” he said. “It’s all your fault. You’ve been trying to make trouble for me ever since you came here—but I’ll get even with you—I’ll”——

Larry had leaped to his feet, but Winans dragged him back, and Baldwin, still swearing and threatening, left the field.

During all the scene Larry Kirkland had not spoken a word. Indeed, Baldwin’s frantic outburst had been so unexpected that none of the players had recovered from their astonishment sufficiently to join the dispute. Larry turned to the coach.

“I’m sorry this happened, Mr. Haxton,” he said. “I tried to make the play”——

“I know it,” snapped Haxton. “Cartright, you get up there and try to get those two runs back.” He glanced along the bench a moment. “Trumbull,” he snapped, “you’ll hit for Arksall. We’ve got to get those runs back.”

But although they rallied and strove desperately to overcome the disadvantage, they were beaten, 3 to 2.