Part 14

Steve laughed mirthlessly. “Gee, we’re going to be a wonderful aggregation of ball players, we are!” he said as he followed Ben up the path. “I can see Kid when a fly comes his way!”

“It’s the best we can do,” answered Ben. “And it can’t be helped now.”

“Say, Ben,” said Kid in the hall, later, “I’ve been thinking that maybe if I went to the Doc and told him that dime novel was mine he might let up on you and Bert.”

“He wouldn’t, Kid. You keep your mouth shut tight.”

“But he might. And I’d be glad to do it, Ben. He couldn’t do anything to me to hurt the game.”

“He couldn’t, eh? You’re going to play right field to-morrow, Kid.”

“I am? Honest, Ben?” Kid’s eyes grew round with excitement. “You’re not fooling?”

“No, I’m not fooling. You’ll play right field and bat in Perkins’ place. So shut up now and get out.”

House spent the evening discussing what was going to happen to-morrow when their crippled team met Day. But there was a more hopeful tone apparent and the fellows who had condemned Ben in the first flush of disappointment now acknowledged that he had done the square thing.

“It took a lot of pluck to do what Ben did,” declared Steve Lovell, “and I guess if it had been me I’d have flunked it. And, anyhow, whether we win or we lose, we’ve got the whitest fellow in school for captain. Besides, winning games isn’t everything, I guess.”

XXII

“TOOTS” HAS A TREAT

“Where are you going, Kid?” called Nan from the side porch the next morning.

Kid, half-way down the drive, turned, waved a hand and replied importantly: “To the village to buy balls. Ben just found we only had three. Want to come along?”

Nan shook her head. “I can’t. I wish I could. Kid, are we going to get beaten this afternoon?”

“Beaten! I should say not! Why, I’m going to play in right field!” And Kid grinned broadly.

“If we do they’ll take our trophy off with them, Kid. Won’t that be awful?”

“Fierce, but they won’t do it! You wait, Nan. We’ll lick ’em to smithereens; they haven’t got a chance!” And Kid went on, whistling blithely.

It was, he told himself, a dandy day, just the sort of a day for a ball game. And he was going to play! That was certainly bully. He’d show the fellows that he could play ball even if he was little! He paused in the middle of the drive and swung at an imaginary ball with an equally imaginary bat, and then, still in imagination, watched the ball flying high and far against the blue Spring sky.

“I’ll show ’em!” he murmured.

He had completed the purchase of three new balls in their neat red and white boxes and was out on the village street again when he heard his name spoken.

“Hello, Kid, what are you doing?”

It was “Toots” Morgan, “Toots” who still owed him that quarter, “Toots” who was to serve them with his puzzling curves and drops that afternoon. Kid scowled.

“Picking blueberries,” he replied flippantly.

“Think you’re smart, don’t you?” returned Toots with a frown.

“I think――” began Kid aggressively. Then he stopped and gazed for a moment thoughtfully at the adversary. Then, to “Toots’” surprise, he smiled genially. “I’ve been buying balls, ‘Toots.’ Ben found we hadn’t enough.”

“You’ll need a lot when we get at you,” replied “Toots,” amiably. “What kind did you get?”

Kid exhibited them and “Toots” approved, explaining at some length as he lounged along at Kid’s side why he preferred that particular make to any other. “Toots” was in very good humor this morning, it seemed, and Kid’s brain became active. He listened most respectfully to the other’s words of wisdom and viewed him admiringly.

“I guess you fellows won’t have much trouble licking us to-day, ‘Toots,’” he said finally. “I suppose you’ve heard about Ben?”

“Yes.” “Toots” nodded. “We’d have licked you anyway, though. It’s a cinch now.”

Kid nodded sadly. “Yes, they’ve had to put me in right field. Bert Bryant’s out of it, too, you see.”

“Toots” grinned. “I’ll let you down easy when you come to bat, Kid,” he said. “You’re a pretty good little chap, even if you did lose me that hockey game.”

“I’ve always been sorry about that, ‘Toots,’” said Kid sweetly. “Of course, I didn’t mean to do it, but I know it was my fault. It――it has troubled me a whole lot.”

“Toots” studied the face upturned to his own suspiciously, but the expression was so frank, so guileless that “Toots” was touched. “That’s all right, Kid. You couldn’t tell I was going to put one of the nasty things in my mouth and lose a stop. I know that. Maybe I’ll give you a straight, easy ball this afternoon, Kid, and let you get a hit――if we’re ahead and there’s no one on.”

“Will you, honest?” asked Kid eagerly. “I wish you would, ‘Toots’! I’d love to get a hit! Gee, wouldn’t it surprise those stuck-up chaps who say I can’t play? But how will I know when to hit it, ‘Toots’?”

“Toots” laughed amusedly. “Gee, you’re a green one, aren’t you, Kid? Well, say, I’ll give you a signal, see? Like this. When I put my hand up and wiggle my fingers this way――see?――you take a swing. I’ll put it over slow and easy for you, Kid. You’re not a bad sort.”

“That――that’s awfully kind of you,” stammered Kid. “I――I――say, ‘Toots,’ let me buy you some tonic, will you? I’d love to!”

“Sure,” laughed “Toots.” “Come on over to Haley’s. I don’t mind having money spent on me.”

“And maybe they’ve got some of those dandy éclairs,” mused Kid as he accompanied “Toots” across the street, “the kind with chocolate on top. Don’t you love those, ‘Toots’?”

“They’re not bad, and that’s a fact. You must have money, Kid.”

“I’ve got almost a dollar, ‘Toots.’” He didn’t explain that it was the change from the five dollar bill supplied him by Ben to buy balls with. “And I’m awfully hungry. Walking always makes me hungry.”

“Well, it’s sort of late to eat,” said “Toots” as he led the way into Haley’s store, “but if they have any of those éclairs, Kid, I guess I can spoil one.”

They had, as it proved; a whole tin tray full of them; and not only were there chocolate éclairs but vanilla and maple éclairs as well, and “Toots” was unable to decide which to take.

“Try a chocolate one first,” advised Kid, jingling his money loudly, “and then have one of the others. Those maple ones are great.”

That seemed a sensible idea and “Toots” followed it. And they each had a bottle of root beer. And after the two éclairs were finished Kid suggested bananas and more root beer. “Toots” declined the root beer but accepted two bananas. Meanwhile they sat on stools and swung their feet and talked baseball. “Toots” told all about his different deliveries, and about how he had had to practice months and months before he had mastered that “fade-away” of his, which, if Kid knew about such things, he would realize was just like Christy Mathewson’s. And Kid listened attentively, admiringly, with open mouth and wide eyes, and called for two apple turnovers and two dill pickles. It was almost half-past twelve when “Toots” brushed the crumbs of a peach tart from his jacket and lowered himself from the stool with a groan of repletion. Kid’s money was spent to the last cent and so there was no use remaining any longer. If “Toots” had not been so taken up with his own recital of his deeds and prowess he might have noticed that Kid had not eaten half of the pastry and fruit and pickles he had seemed to. The floor was littered with food and one of Kid’s pockets was mushy with half-eaten tarts and turnovers.

“Well, much obliged, Kid,” said “Toots” lazily. “That was a bully treat. I’ll stand you some day. I must waddle home to dinner now. Gee, but I’m full! Well, see you later. Don’t forget the signal; like this; see?”

And “Toots” wiggled his left hand in front of his forehead.

“I won’t forget. Thank you, ‘Toots.’” Kid watched the other make his way down the sidewalk. “You bet I won’t forget, ‘Toots.’ You watch me!” he murmured to himself. Then, smiling his cherub smile, Kid hurried back to school.

XXIII

KID TRIUMPHS!

Quite an audience assembled for that final game. Day fellows brought their sisters and their chums, and now and then a father or a mother, while a few boys from the village, unable to follow their high school nine away on a trip, came up to cheer for the Day Team. And of course the Doctor and Mrs. Merton were there; the Doctor enjoyed a game of baseball or football as much as any one; and equally, of course, Miss Nancy Merton was on hand. Yes, it was quite a fair-sized audience, and it couldn’t have had a finer day to sit on the settees along the base lines and watch eighteen eager and excited youths do battle for baseball supremacy. The sun was warm, but a little west breeze mitigated its ardor. The sky was cloudless, the world green and fresh and the air as soft and gentle as a caress.

The Junior Four Trophy stood imposingly on its ebony base in the middle of a table for all to see. It glistened bravely in the sunlight and the Junior Four and the Honorary Member were very proud of it. More than once Nan, who sat a few feet away, bent forward to read her name engraved on the silver cup. Mr. Folsom, who was to umpire on bases, thus lending quite an air of Big League importance to the contest, was surreptitiously studying the rules behind first base. But he hadn’t progressed very far when Mr. Crane called “Play ball!”

House took the field and Day went to bat. Out in right field, a ridiculously small figure in that expanse of green sward, stood Kid, thumping his fielder’s glove with a bare fist impatiently. On second base Sam Perkins called encouragement and tried to make himself believe that he felt at home there. Behind the bat was Steve Lovell, looking not a little nervous. Waters pitched, for it had been decided to get the jump on Day at the start, if such a thing was possible, and win the game in the first few innings. Ben, although barred from playing, was directing the team from the bench. Beside him sat Bert, a bit downhearted at being out of it.

White, first man up for Day, started the excitement with the first ball pitched. It was “in the groove,” and White banged it down to Perkins, waist-high. Sam caught it, dropped it, snatched it up again and pegged it to first. But the throw was short and the ball struck the ground a yard in front of Pierce, and, although that youth succeeded in stopping it, the runner was safe. Turner worked a neat sacrifice. O’Connell tried to score White from second and sent a fly to Lanny in center. Lanny caught it, but his throw in was weak and White went to third. Then Briggs slammed a liner between Crandall and Cupples, scored White and took second himself. Grimshaw hit two fouls, both of which Steve Lovell tried for and missed, and then placed a neat base-hit in short left. Spooner should have been an easy out at first, but Stanley Pierce dropped the ball and the bases were full. Waters was plainly worried, and when, a moment later, Lovell let a pitch get by him and two runs came in, Waters went straight up in the air. Tucker was passed and so was Sibley. Day’s coachers danced and shrieked and their supporters kept up a constant din intended to add further to Waters’ discomfort. But, strange to say, just when Ben was wondering whether perhaps it would not be best to take Waters out before the game was lost beyond recovery, the pitcher settled down and struck out “Toots” Morgan with three pitched balls!

It was House’s turn to applaud and they didn’t miss it. But with three runs against them the outlook wasn’t particularly bright. Captain Turner surprised House by sending Sibley in to pitch, Morgan going into the field. Ben was tickled indeed and saw in imagination all sorts of hits streaking over the landscape. But Sibley wasn’t as easy to-day. In spite of the fact that the first two batters up hit him safely, he managed to crawl out of an awkward situation without having a run scored against him.

There was no scoring by either team in the second. Day got a man to third, but he died there when Lovell raced into the crowd and pulled down a foul. House had hopes when George Waters hit a two-bagger, but there were already two men out and Lanny, who followed him at the plate, couldn’t make good and was thrown out easily at first.

Day started the third inning by hitting a long fly into right field. Kid had to travel back to reach it and then let it bounce out of that famous glove of his. The error was good for three bases. A passed ball let the runner score. But after that Waters again settled down and there were no more hits in the inning. House failed to reach first and, with the score four to nothing, the fourth inning began. Day went out in order, and for House Cupples found Sibley for a bunt and beat out the ball, going to second a minute later when Crandall trickled the ball along the first base line and was tagged out by Sibley. Gardner offered at two deliveries and then waited and got his base. Kid struck out miserably, swinging at everything that came. Waters again got a hit and Cupples raced in from second for the first tally. Lanny flied out to shortstop.

The fifth inning was filled with errors on each side, but no runs were scored. The sixth gave Day another tally when Grimshaw banged the ball out for a home run. Then Waters struck out Spooner, made Tucker pop a fly to Pierce and passed Sibley only to catch him napping a moment later off first base. House went into the sixth with the score five to nothing and Ben was gnawing his finger-nails on the bench. Perkins leaned against the first delivery and the shortstop found it too hard to handle. He went to second when Pierce flied out to left field. Then Sibley let down and Lovell hit safely past third and Perkins scored House’s second run. Cupples drew a pass. Crandall advanced the runners but went out at first. Gardner was ordered to bother Sibley and try for a pass. So he waved his bat back and forth and jumped around in the box, while the House coachers yelled themselves hoarse back of the bases. Two balls――one strike――three balls――two strikes――and then, “Four balls; take your base,” said Mr. Crane. A shriek of triumph went up from House. Turner ran over from first base and Sibley tossed the ball down. “Toots” was already trotting in from left field. Turner was taking no chances, it seemed.

Morgan stepped into the box with two out and three on bases. Unfortunately for House, it was Kid’s turn at bat. Had there been any one to take his place Ben would have pulled Kid out of the game then and there, but there wasn’t, and so Kid was told to seem eager to hit but to offer at nothing. Ben, knowing Morgan to be cold, trusted that he would be unable to put three strikes over. But although Kid looked anxiously for that secret signal that was to give him a hit he didn’t see it. And a moment later he was trotting dejectedly out to the field, disposed of with four pitched balls.

Day filled the bases in the seventh with one out, the out being Morgan. Briggs banged the ball to Crandall and Crandall dropped it long enough to let Day add her sixth run and for Briggs to reach first in safety. Grimshaw went out on a long fly and another tally came over. Then, to the immense relief of House, Spooner hit a liner to Waters, who knocked it down and threw it to first for the third out.

But House was beaten. There could be no doubt of that. The score was 7 to 2 and only three innings remained for House. With Morgan pitching his customary good game it was very doubtful whether House could score once, to say nothing of five times! But Ben declared that it was the lucky seventh and House supporters took up the cry and shouted encouragingly as Waters tapped the plate with his bat. Morgan seemed a little slower than usual to-day. Ben, watching intently from the bench, was puzzled. Usually “Toots” sent in his deliveries almost as fast as White could get the ball back to him. But this afternoon there was an appreciable delay each time. “Toots” took longer for his “wind-up” and when the ball left his hand it appeared to lack its usual snap. Ben wondered whether it was possible that Morgan was a little off-color. He called Lanny, who was waiting to bat, and whispered to him. Lanny nodded doubtfully. At that instant there was a sharp _crack_ and Waters was speeding to first. But the ball was only a long fly and the Day Team’s center fielder got under it after a hard race and pulled it down. Lanny was fooled twice on what “Toots” called his “fade-away” and then slammed a hit past second baseman. Perkins went to bat and Lanny immediately took what looked like a dangerous lead off first. Morgan turned and watched him a second, threw the ball across half-heartedly and then paid no more attention to the runner. On the second ball Perkins swung, and Lanny sped to second. House howled gleefully. Then a pop fly to third baseman turned Perkins away and made it two out. Pierce, however, got a lift by reason of second baseman’s error, and Lanny went to third and might have scored in the subsequent confusion. But with Steve Lovell up a run still looked likely and House clamored for it. The best Steve could do, however, was to get a pass to first. And then, with the bases full, Cupples trickled an easy grounder to third baseman and the latter had only to step back and tag the bag with his foot for the final out of the inning.

Day added still another run to her swelling score in the first of the eighth, a base hit, an error by Crandall and a wild pitch by Waters contributing.

House was losing hope. Day had a lead of six runs now. Crandall went out promptly, third baseman to first. Gardner drove a long screecher into right field and only a hair-raising one-handed catch by Briggs stopped him. Then, with two out, Kid again came to the sacrifice. Kid had lost all hope of getting that hit by now. It seemed to be his part to stand at the plate and let the opposing pitcher toy with him! But he squared himself bravely enough, swung his bat knowingly and seemed to dare Morgan to do his worst. It seemed that Morgan was going to do it too, for his first ball was high and wide and his next one hit the plate. The coachers, thinking he was faltering, began to dance and shout. Kid waited for the next delivery, hoping that it would be another ball. Perhaps, at least, he was to win the honor of reaching first on a pass! But what was this? Why was “Toots” fingering his cap? The catcher had given the signal. What――then Kid suddenly realized that “Toots” had not forgotten his promise, after all, that he was going to pitch a straight and easy one so that Kid might make a hit! Kid seized the bat firmly, his heart thumping, and waited while Morgan lazily wound up and then shot his hand forward. Straight and true came the ball. Kid watched it breathlessly. Was it going to break? But no, there was no “stuff” on that ball. It came right over the center of the plate a foot above Kid’s knees, and Kid’s bat took it squarely on the trade-mark.

_Bang!_

Kid dropped his bat and scurried for first. Over second baseman’s head went the ball. Kid swung around first and headed for second. The coachers were shouting unintelligible things to him as he ran. Out between center field and right O’Connell and Briggs were racing. Kid reached second and turned to look. What had happened? Two fielders were scurrying along with their backs to him. From somewhere came the insistent cry: “_Come on, Kid! Come on! Take third!_” Kid started again, his small legs twinkling above the dust. Out in deep field Briggs was throwing the ball to second baseman. At third Steve Lovell, shouting and waving, sent Kid toward home. His heart was pounding against his ribs like a sledge-hammer as he made for the plate where White, with outstretched hands and anxious, puckered face, awaited the ball. Somehow, without seeing, Kid knew that the ball was coming. He was still a dozen feet away from the plate. Twenty voices were crying to him to slide, but Kid didn’t hear them. He did slide, but he did it instinctively. Kid struck the plate at the instant the ball landed in the catcher’s mitten. And although White swung for him frantically, Kid was safe. He had made a home run!

They picked him up from between White’s legs and thumped him on the back and yelled hoarsely in triumph. Kid, rescuing his cap, grinned toward where “Toots,” hands on hips and his face eloquent of surprise and chagrin, was standing. Then in a voice that easily carried to “Toots” Kid observed carelessly: “He isn’t hard to hit!”

After that it should have been all over, but to-day the unexpected happened. “Toots,” still dazed, as it seemed, passed Waters in spite of that youth’s attempt to hit, bounded the ball off Lanny’s knee and then, with first and second bases occupied, let Perkins drive out a clean-cut hit! Waters romped home, Lanny went to second and House became frantic. How the coachers yelled! For that matter how every one yelled! “Toots” was going fast. He was plainly in distress. Stanley Pierce smashed out a two bagger, scoring Lanny and sending Perkins to third. Lovell drew a pass, Cupples singled, Crandall doubled, Gardner reached his base on an error by shortstop, and Kid came again to the bat.

The score was tied at 8 to 8 and the bases were filled. House yelled for another “homer.” Kid, outwardly calm and assured but inwardly trembling, again faced “Toots.” “Toots” observed him puzzledly. The first delivery was wild and White barely stopped it from getting by him. Kid grinned and, raising one hand to his cap, wiggled his fingers! Morgan looked and faltered. Two balls! White hurried down to talk it over. They whispered together. White thumped “Toots” encouragingly on the back. “Toots” nodded and braced his shoulders. But Kid saw the look of distress that flitted across the pitcher’s face, and he grinned cruelly. Again he wiggled his fingers, while the audience shouted excitedly or held their breath in suspense. “Three balls!” cried Mr. Crane. Bedlam was let loose then! Ben jumped from the bench and executed a Highland fling and threw handfuls of grass in the air. Behind first Perkins did a hand-spring. Turner ran over to “Toots” and pleaded with him. “Toots” was seen to place a hand on the region of his stomach and shake his head. “Play ball!” shrieked House. Turner talked and talked and “Toots” nodded dispiritedly and faced his fate. The ball sped forward, Kid let it pass and dropped his bat. But, “Strike one!” cried Mr. Crane.

Kid viewed him reproachfully, and recovered his bat. “He can’t do it again, Kid!” shouted Ben. But he did do it again, nevertheless, even though the effort caused him a good deal of discomfort, as Kid could see. Then it all depended on the next ball. “Toots” wound up slowly, his face scowling with pain, and out went his arm. The ball started well, but the break was wrong. Down and down it came. Kid stepped back from the plate and the ball thumped into White’s mitt.

“Four balls,” said Mr. Crane. “Take your base!”

Amidst pandemonium Harold Cupples trotted home from third with House’s ninth run! Kid went to first and the bases were still full. With Waters at bat at least one more tally seemed possible, but Fortune came to the aid of “Toots.” Waters swung at the first offering and the ball danced up into the sunlight to settle in third baseman’s glove!

Heroically Day struggled to retrieve her lost lead. But George Waters arose grandly to the occasion and was as firm as a rock. The first man was struck out and the second went out at first. Then it was Morgan’s turn at bat. But a substitute went in instead. This wasn’t finesse, but necessity, for poor “Toots” was being half led and half carried to the house where, for the next hour or so he was dosed with Jamaica ginger and similar remedies. It was a most mysterious attack and the only two persons who could have thrown light on it remained silent, “Toots” himself because he was much too unhappy to explain and Kid because, so far, Ben had forgotten all about the change from that five dollar bill!