Lefty o' the bush

After running his eye over the Kingsbridge batting order, Mike Riley, manager of the Bancroft “Bullies,” rolled the black cigar well into the corner of his mouth, lifted himself...

Kingsbridge, with its pulp-mill and saw-mill laborers, was precisely the sort of a place to back a team to the limit, and to demand a winning club, regardless of expense.

To the left of the bench, which was set well back against the railing in front of the third-base bleachers, on which a carload of Bancroft fans were bunched, Jock Hoover, the st...

Dyke expressed satisfaction, and the hazelnut sparkler in his blazing red tie reflected varicolored gleams from its many facets, as his cupped hands held a burning match to ligh...

A yell rose from the crowd which now almost completely encircled the field. It was not a cheer, such as may sometimes be heard at the beginning of a Big League game; it was a su...

Flinging his club toward the bench, Harney jogged lazily down the line, grinning into the faces of the dissatisfied and sullen Kingsbridgers on the bleachers. The chortling coac...

Among the spectators, doubtless, the performance of Tom Locke gave no one keener disappointment and chagrin than that experienced by Janet Harting. She almost writhed, her fair...

Tom Locke did not turn his eyes toward the bench; he did not dare, lest a glance should be interpreted as a supplication, and bring about his removal from the field. He saw Ould...

There was a change in the aspect of the crowd and its behavior, for this was more like something worth while, and a few were beginning to think it possible they might have under...

As Locke walked calmly toward the bench he found Captain Stark at his side, laughing. “You pulled outer that hole in great shape, old man,” said Larry; “but you sure had us all...

Stark came next, and, like the leading sticker, his best efforts resulted only in weak fouls, the Bully on the slab finally sending him back to the bench by the whiff route, to...

Harney continued to talk to Hoover until the raging pitcher, the freckles on his face seeming to stand out like innumerable islands in a grayish sea, promised to behave. The ump...

But no man on that field felt the sting of the moment as deeply as Jock Hoover, in whose heart hatred for Tom Locke burned like living fire. The wonder and terror of the league,...

The indescribable uproar which greeted the strike-out that settled the game prevented Hoover’s words from reaching Locke’s ears, but the glare in his eyes, the expression of his...

It was a scene to be printed indelibly on the memory: The palpitant, swaying crowd, those in front pushed forward by those behind; the baseball players round the edges of the cl...

Janet was pale and silent as King drove into town. Glancing at her, he saw that her lips were pressed together, her smooth brow puckered a bit, and her eyes filled with a strang...

The door of the Reverend John Harting’s study was open. In the softened afternoon light which came from the window above his desk, he sat, giving his morrow’s sermon the last po...

The sermon was dry and tiresome, old-fashioned and overflowing with “doctrine.” John Harting had never made a pretense of sympathizing with the liberality of modern dominies who...

More than a hundred men, laborers and mill hands, bearing new brooms, recently bought in grocery stores, and making a tremendous noise with tin horns, cow bells, and voices, wer...

There was a moment’s silence. Then Dyke spoke up. “We’ll be up ag’inst it hard with our left-hand hitters if they keep on holdin’ Locke in reserve for us,” he said. “Lisotte, Mc...

At nine o’clock that night, Bob Hutchinson, smoking, stood on the steps of the Central Hotel, in Kingsbridge, and waited. Presently two men, one stout and heavy, the other slend...

Henry Cope had a habit of closing his store at night himself. On this particular night his clerks had left, and he was lingering in his cramped little office to straighten out h...

They left him there, shaking with rage. He heard them laugh outside the door when it had closed behind them, and he lifted and shook both his fists in their direction.

“Well, if that’s the case, why have you been tellin’ that Tom Locke is a college pitcher from Princeton? Why did you go and put such a notion into the noddles of the Bancrofters...

At the post office, as he had hoped, King met Janet. Since Sunday, he had scarcely caught a glimpse of her, but he knew she sometimes came for the mail near that hour, and the k...

Kingsbridge was to play at home that day, with Lakeport. It being the middle of the week, the crowd on hand at the hour for the game to begin was not more than one-third as larg...

The match did not progress favorably for Kingsbridge. For five innings, Skillings fought hard to hold his own, but the “Lakers,” as the Lakeport team was called, seemed to have...

Hutchinson laughed in a mirthless manner, no sound escaping his thin lips. The young man had refused a direct answer, and nimbly made his escape from the corner in which Hutch h...

At nine o’clock on Saturday evening, two men sat talking in confidential tones in the Bancroft office of Lawyer Rufus Kilgore. The lawyer himself was not present; he had not eve...

Shortly after Sunday morning breakfast, Hutch had a private talk in his room with one of the two bell hops of the hotel, following which he complacently strolled down to the ver...

In a grove upon the bank of the log-choked river, Tom Locke lay stretched on a carpet of brown pine needles, reading from a little book. The sunshine, sifting through the trees,...

He thanked her for the words, and secured his hat and book as they walked slowly toward the log. Tommy was again blowing away at his harmonica, Jimmy was sulking, and the others...

Benton King, politely invited――nay, urged――to call on Bob Hutchinson at the Central Hotel, dropped round that same Sunday afternoon, out of passing curiosity, and listened with...

The calmness of the speaker had its effect on the trembling young fellow, who stood there, hands clenched, breast heaving, slowly beginning to realize that it was his duty to do...

Benton King sat in his office at the mill, opening the morning mail, which had just been brought him by a boy. His face wore a heavy frown, and he ripped open the envelopes vici...

Fearing what she might think of him for dealing with a man like Hutchinson, he dared not tell her just how the knowledge had come to him; but he swore it was true, that he knew...

Tuesday’s early mail brought Henry Cope a letter bearing the Bancroft postmark, and he opened it somewhat nervously. As he apprehended, it contained a communication from Anson G...

A short time later, with his playing suit in the hand bag he carried, Locke left the hotel and started for the railway station, where he would join the other members of the team...

Never before, even though it was the middle of the week, had such a crowd of Bancroft fans accompanied the team to a neighboring town. When the train stopped they began hopping...

The great Bancroft crowd laughed. They had come to Kingsbridge to see their new southpaw show the Kinks something about pitching. Incidentally they had made arrangements to take...

Locke muttered a single word of disgust as he rose from the bench and walked toward the pitcher’s slab. On the way he stopped suddenly, staring for an instant toward some teams...

“If he’s lost the game,” returned the obstinate grocer, “what’s the use to take him out? I don’t see no sense in that. Let him pitch some more. He braced up t’other time; mebbe...

With one out, it seemed an excellent time for Kingsbridge to keep up the bunting, and attempt to score on it by the “squeeze,” so Bancroft’s infield drew closer and the outfield...

Seasonable July weather caused discomfort for the seven persons assembled in the dingy office of Rufus Kilgore for the purpose of attending the meeting called to consider Manage...

Benton King, called upon, rose and expressed regret that circumstances had involved him in the unfortunate affair. He spoke hurriedly, without looking at Locke, although he was...

The youthful stranger handed over a large, square, flat package, and Locke quickly removed the wrapper, displaying a group photograph of a team of youthful baseball players, upo...