Alice admitted that her father was right. But she had given a great deal of thought to the matter. Everybody in the town was discussing this absorbing topic. And, out of all that she had heard, she had evolved this cast of characters, so to speak. Anticipating the story of the Catalpa nine a little, it may be said that Alice Howell's list, although its features were known only to herself and her father, was adopted with two exceptions, Larry Boyne was chosen to the third base and Bill Van Orman took the position of catcher. But this was not done until far later in the winter, when the new nine was finally organized for the summer campaign.
CHAPTER V.
NOTES OF PREPARATION.
Onthe ridge above the town of Catalpa stands a huge building known as "The Fair Building." When the Northern District Agricultural Fair was held in Catalpa, this structure was used for displays of mammoth squashes, women's handiwork, exhibits of flax, wheat, flour, and the other products of the fertile region of Northern Illinois. Now it was given over to desolation and neglect. The men who had helped to pay for its erection were not willing to signify by tearing it down that they had given up all hope of ever winning back to Catalpa the institution that had moved away up to the northern part of the state. Some of these days, they said, the Fair would come back to Catalpa, and then the building would be ready for the show, as of old.
The promoters of the new base ball club scheme had no difficulty in securing permission for the players to practice in the building. Accordingly, when the leisure days ofwinter came on, the lads betook themselves to the lonesome and barnlike structure and warmed themselves with the exercise that pitching, catching and running made needful.
"If we had had this old ark built for us," said Hiram Porter, whose father was one of the Directors of the Agricultural Society, "it couldn't have been better planned. Suppose we call a ball sent up there where Marm Deyo used to spread out her wonderful bed-quilts a foul ball? And then we might imagine that the lower gallery is full of girls looking on at Larry's scientific pitching. Gals—gallery; see?" and the boys all laughed at Hiram's small joke, for their spirits rose as they warmed to their work.
Thither went, also, occasionally, a favored few of the townspeople who were very much waked up now over the work of the Nine that was to be the champion of the region, if not of the State. To such an extent had the men, women and children of Catalpa been aroused by what was going on, that a stranger coming into town and hearing the gossip around the street corners and in the more comfortable stores and shops, would have supposed that Catalpa was devoting itself exclusively to the practice of base ball. It was the dead of winter, and, except a few teams slowly pulling in from the outlying country, with a few farmers in quest of the necessaries of life from the town stores, very little life was visible about the place. Occasionally, a fierce snow storm would sweep over the town, blocking the streets, and cutting it off from all communicationexcept by railroad. The main street would be desolate, and the bridge show only a solitary passenger whom dire necessity brought out in such a cold and wintry gale as the "blizzard" proved to be.
At such times, however, up in the big Fair Building whose yawning cracks let in the driving snow, and on whose roof the shingles rattled merrily, a party of hardy and stalwart young fellows was sure to be found practicing arduously for the work of the coming summer. Around the hot stoves in the lounging-places, down town, grown men were talking of base ball, and small boys, hanging eagerly on the outer edges of the groups, drank in with silent intelligence the words of wisdom that dropped from the lips of their elders. For a time, at least, it looked as if nothing would ever be done in that town but to prepare for the base ball season of the next year.
But the winter wore away and the regular industries of the Stone River Valley began to revive. The ice went out of the river with the usual rush, and people wondered, as they always had, if the bridge would stand the pressure of the ice-flood. The roads were once more channels of bottomless mud, and eastern people, whom business errands brought out into that part of the country, sourly berated a country "in which everything depended on the state of the roads." The blue jays were calling from the tree-tops and the meadow larks were whistling along the fences. The prairies were gradually growing green, and the low placesand hollows where the snow lately lingered became shining pools reflecting the tender blue of the spring sky.
One day, Bill Van Orman, after carefully going over the Agricultural Fair Grounds in company with Al Heaton, reported that it was about time to begin practicing out of doors. For months, the members of the new nine had been wishing for the day to come when they could get out into the open air and put some of their indoor practice into actual work. So, with the assistance of a few of their associates who were not members of the new club, they organized two nines and went to work in earnest.
The long winter had borne its fruit. The talk and gossip of the town had run almost altogether to base ball. There was nobody in Catalpa, unless it was poor old Father Bickerby, who was stone deaf, who had not heard the smallest particulars of the progress of the new nine discussed. Did Larry Boyne make a particularly fine running, one-hand catch in the practice of a winter's afternoon? It was minutely described that night over a hundred tea-tables in Catalpa. Did Charlie King bewilder everybody, some day, by the dexterity and rapidity of the balls that he delivered, so that even the players, always reluctant to praise each other, applauded him? Sage old men hanging over the open fire in the drug store would say that Charlie King "would warm those Jonesvillers, next summer."
And, what was of more immediate importance, the financial arrangements necessary to start the club prosperouslyon its way were perfected while the dull times of a western winter pervaded the town of Catalpa. Judge Howell, himself, with an air of great condescension, headed a list of gentlemen who agreed to give a certain sum to enable the club to carry out their campaign. Others followed the great man of the town, according to their ability. And others, again, pledged themselves to lend any sum that might be required to make up a possible deficiency. But, so many who were able to give outright to what they called "the good cause" came forward with their gifts, there was no chance for any deficiency. Since the outbreak of the war, when everybody was scraping lint, making "comforts" for the soldiers, or marching to the front, there had not been so hot a fever of enthusiasm in Catalpa.
The soldiers of this new campaign were the lusty young heroes up in the Agricultural Fair Grounds who were doing battle, every day, with imaginary foes and making ready to face the real antagonists who could not now be very far off; for the base ball season would open in a few weeks. There was a little jealousy over the choice of a captain. Gradually, the place of each man in the nine had been settled without much debate. As we have seen, the list that Alice Howell had made up, in the privacy of her own solitude, became that which the players finally fixed upon, except that Larry Boyne went to third base and Bill Van Orman took the place of catcher, instead of the positions which the fair Alice had assigned them in her draft of an ideal nine.
Ben Burton was supported for the captaincy of the club by several of the members, all of the new players, except Larry Boyne, being in favor of choosing him. Ben was a warm champion of his own claims to the place. Larry, on the other hand, modestly, but very decidedly, supported Hiram Porter for the post of Captain. He was in every way fit for it, and he and his father had done more for the new club than any others. Besides all that, the Porters held a first-rate social position in Dean County and that would count for something in the organizing of the campaign. The young men considered the withdrawal of Al Heaton, and the cause of his loss to them, and they laughed at the thought. Ben Burton was very savage at the suggestion that his family was not just as good as the Porters. What had family to do with base ball, anyway?
The discussion grew warm, after a while, and Larry and Ben were brought into sharp antagonism. There had been rumors that Larry Boyne had dared to show to Miss Alice Howell some of the little attentions with which the young swains of the region were wont to manifest their admiration for a young lady of their choice. He had even gone so far as to ask her to allow him to drive her to a little dancing party given in Darville, one of the numerous rivals of Catalpa, a little prairie town on the Rush River Railroad, twelve miles distant. Alice, warned by a suggestion from her father, who exhibited a species of panic at the bare idea of the invitation, had declined the young man's kindly offer, and had staid athome to murmur at her hard fate. Ben Burton could not seriously cherish a belief that Larry Boyne was "paying attention" to the Judge's daughter; but he felt that he, somehow, owed him a grudge.
The impending storm, if any really did impend, blew over when it was ascertained by ballot that Hiram Porter was the choice of the club. And Hiram, who was tall, dark, strong, long of limb, handsome and skillful, was accordingly chosen captain of the Catalpa nine. Ben Burton, with some show of generous magnanimity, clapped Hiram on the back and boisterously congratulated him on his having secured the coveted honor of the captaincy. But Larry, with a manly air, said, "You'll find that all the boys will take orders from you, Hi, with as much cheerfulness as if we were soldiers in the field and you were leading them to battle. Isn't that so, fellows?"
The rest of the young men noisily and heartily asserted their allegiance to their chief, and the new club began their final preparations for the field with enthusiasm and harmonious good-will.
By the evening lamp, that night, in Judge Howell's house, the matter was discussed by the Judge and his daughter. "It is an excellent choice, Alice, my child, don't you think so?"
"Certainly, papa, but it is not of very great importance, after all, who is captain of the nine. 'The play's the thing,' as Hamlet says; isn't it Hamlet, papa?"
"I don't know about that, my little girl, I am somewhatrusty in my Shakespeare; but the play is the thing, I suppose. Nevertheless, since social rank does not go for much in base ball, I should have been glad to see Larry Boyne made the captain of the new nine."
"Oh, papa, that was not to be thought of. He is a new recruit. Who knows how he may turn out? He may be a secret emissary from Jonesville to 'throw the game,' some day."
"Bless my life!" cried the Judge, "I never thought of that."
CHAPTER VI.
AN INTERESTING EPISODE.
Althoughthe stock of the Catalpa Base Ball Club was divided among many share-holders in the town of Catalpa, it was evident that the mere holding, or non-holding, of shares made no difference with those who were engaged in the active duties of playing. To be sure, the nine had not yet begun their summer campaign. The first of April was early enough for the beginning of outdoor practice, and active work in the field would not open until the first of May; but enough had been done, in the preliminary organization and preparing for the summer's work, to test the temper of the members of the club. It was not a purely business-like venture into which these young men had gone for the purpose of making capital or money for themselves. They were burning to retrieve the reputation of "Old Catalpa" as they called their town, albeit it was one of the youngest in Northern Illinois.
And so, as Larry Boyne and Al Heaton were sitting onthe rail fence that encloses the Court House of Dean County, in Catalpa, discussing the future prospects of the club, both were confidential and intimate in their exchange of opinions concerning the members of the nine.
"No, I tell you that you are wrong, Al, in your estimate of Ben Burton," said Larry, earnestly. "I do not think that I could be prejudiced against Ben; and I try to judge him fairly; and so I cannot bring myself to believe that he would be tricky, or that he would undertake to play any foul game on me, or on anybody else, for that matter. He is sullen and moody, at times, and I know that he took to heart his defeat as candidate for captain of the club. I know that he don't like me, although I don't know why he should dislike me, as he certainly does."
"Pooh! Larry," was Albert's frank reply, "you know well enough that he fancies that you are in his way as a suitor for the hand of a certain young lady, whose name shall not be mentioned even in this very select society. He knows that that young lady smiles on you in the most bewitching way, and he knows—"
"Oh, see here, Al," interrupted Larry, with flaming cheeks, "you are riding your horse with a free rein, don't you think so? I have no right to think of any young lady with the seriousness you seem to put into the matter. I am young, poor, and without friends or influence."
"Hold on there, Larry," cried young Heaton, warmly. "You have no right to say that. You will never want forfriends. You have a town-full of them, and when you need any one to stand by and back you up in anything you undertake, you can just put out your hand, without getting off of this rail, to find one friend that will be the man to stand right there as long as he is wanted."
Larry laid his hand on Albert's knee as he said, "I know that, Al, and it is good to know it and to have you say it in that straightforward way of yours, and I will say too, that your father called me into the mill, the other day, and said pretty much the same thing to me; and he told me that he should consider it a favor, or something of that sort, if I would allow him to have a fatherly lookout for the folks at home, while I am off, this summer, in case anything should happen." And Larry's honest blue eyes filled with moisture as he looked far off over the outlying prairie, in the vain effort to conceal how deeply he had felt the kindness showed to him.
"That was very good of the Governor, I'm sure," said Albert, stoutly, "and I don't care if he is my father of whom I am saying it. But it's nothing more than fair for him, and for the rest of us who stay at home, to do what we can to keep your mind at ease about your folks while you are out in the ball field for the summer. But what I was getting at is this: Ben Burton is down on you; he will try to get the advantage of you, if he can; and, what is of more consequence to all of us, he would not scruple to bring the whole club into disgrace for the sake of gratifying any selfish purpose that he might happen to have in view."
"But what evil purpose could he have?" demanded Larry.
"As I said before, I don't know. I don't want to do Ben an injustice, but I do know that he is underhanded and mean. So you look out for him. As far as his relations to you are concerned, I might say, if you were not so everlastingly toploftical about it, that he is jealous of you on account of your supposed good standing with Alice Howell—"
"Oh, hush-h-h-h!" cried Larry, looking around in unfeigned consternation, to see if there were listeners near. "You really must not mention that young lady's name in that manner, nor in any manner connected with my own. It would be almost insulting to her, it would fill the Judge with wrath (and I shouldn't blame him for being angry), to know that gossiping young fellows like us were using his daughter's name in this light fashion."
"And why, I should like to know?" answered Albert. "He need not put on any high and mighty airs. I have heard my father say that when the Howellses came here from Kentucky, when the Stone River country was first settled, and old man Hixon was running his ferry across the stream here, they were so poor that they wore bed-ticking clothes, went barefoot, and lived on hog and hominy for many a year afterwards. Side-meat was good enough for them then.The fat of the land is not good enough for them now. It just makes me sick! Such airs!" And honest Albert got down from the fence to give freer expression to his deep disgust.
Larry went away from this casual meeting with his stanch friend Albert with a sense of depression. His nature was unsuspicious and he chose to think that all men were as honest and as frank as he certainly was. Young Heaton's talk had shaken his faith in human nature as far as that was represented in one man—Ben Burton, the open-eyed and bluff Ben Burton. No wonder Larry repelled Al Heaton's notion that Ben "was not altogether square" and should be watched.
Larry was to stop at Armstrong's blacksmith shop, on the north side, on his way home, to have his horse shod. So, as he was leading the animal across the bridge, lost in thought and dwelling somewhat darkly on his conversation with Al Heaton, he did not notice that a young lady, very charmingly dressed and daintily booted and gloved, was tripping along toward him from the opposite side of the river, in the foot-walk that skirted the lower side of the rickety old wooden bridge. He did not look up until his steed, never very easily startled out of a heavy and slouching gait, jumped wildly at a sudden flash from a sky-blue parasol which the young lady deliberately shook at him.
"Whoa, Nance!" cried Larry, astonished at the beast'sunprecedented skittishness, "you old fool!" but here he stopped, for his eyes fell on the bewitching apparition on the other side of the timbered rail, and he colored deeply red as he beheld Miss Alice ready to giggle at his confusion.
"Good day, Mr. Boyne," said the girl, "I am glad I have met you. I wanted to ask you how the club is getting along, and if you think you will be in good condition for the coming season. To be sure, papa tells me that he has every confidence in your success; but then, papa is hardly a judge in base ball matters, you know, although he has learned a great deal lately, and so have many other people, and they all seem very confident; but the wish is father to the thought, you know, and so I thought I would like to see some one in whose judgment and candor I could put a great deal of confidence, a very great deal, you know, and see what he thinks about the prospect before us. I say 'us,' you see, because it is a sort of town matter. Now isn't it?"
The young lady had rattled on in a random manner, as if she was giving time for Larry to recover himself. Certainly, he needed time. He was covered with blushes, not altogether becoming, for his natural color was quite deep enough for all artistic considerations. But as he stood there, cap in hand, the river breeze lightly lifting his brown curls and fanning his hot cheeks, the maiden's bright eyes rested on the picture with a certain sense of satisfaction, and she said to her most secret and hidden inner self thatthere were very few handsomer young men in the region than he who stood before her.
"I WANTED TO ASK YOU HOW THE CLUB IS GETTING ALONG."—Page 64.
Larry, laying his brown hand on the timber guard that capped the railing betwixt them, said, "You startled me so, Miss Alice, that I almost forgot my manners; and I haven't much. Oh, you wanted to know about the prospects of the Catalpa Nine? Well, I do not think it would be wise to build many hopes on the future until we have met at least one of the best nines of the country about us. Some of our friends think we are going to sweep the deck. Excuse the expression. And some are even talking of our being the champion nine of the state."
"Why," said the girl, "don't you hope for the championship? Is not that what you are going out to get?"
"Of course, Miss Alice, we hope for everything that is in sight, as the saying is; but we cannot expect, with any sort of reason, for so great success as that during our very first season. The matches are now nearly all made up for the coming season, and if we were never so good players, we should have no chance for the championship, I am afraid."
"I never thought of that," said Alice. "What an awful lot you know about base ball. But then that is because you are a man. My papa says that girls have no business learning about base ball. Now what do you think, Mr. Boyne?"
"I am not used to being called 'Mr. Boyne' for onething," replied Larry, gallantly, "and I should feel very much honored indeed if Miss Howell would remember that I am only 'Larry' the new third base man of the Catalpa Nine."
The heavy rumble of a farm wagon driving up on the town end of the bridge at that moment warned Larry that he must get out of the way. So, with a few concise words as to the all-absorbing topic of the day, he bowed, replaced his cap, and passed on to North Catalpa.
Sal Monnahan drove the sorrel horses that now came pounding along the wooden way. When she reached her home in Oneosho Village, that evening, she informed her nearest neighbor that she had seen "Larry Boyne lallygagging with that high-strung darter of Judge Howell's, on the North Catalpa bridge, that arternoon, and then when the gal came off she looked as if she had been talking with her sweetheart, her eyes were so shiny, just like dimonds, and her cheeks were as red as a poppy in the corn. It do beat all how that young Irish feller gets on with folks in town. Gals and fellers—all the same."
As for Larry, he went across the bridge, leading his nag, and walking so lightly that it seemed to him that his steps were in the air. While Armstrong was shoeing the horse and chatting the while with Larry, he thought within himself that this was a particularly fine young fellow, and that it was a pity that he was poor. Presently his thoughts took shape and he said:
"Don't you think you are too smart a chap, Larry, to waste your time playing base ball?"
"I am not going to waste much time playing, Tom. I know enough about base ball to know that a player doesn't last as a good player more than ten or twelve years. He is too young to play before he is seventeen years old, and he is done for and is dropped out by the time he is thirty. So if I had any notion of making ball-playing my calling in life, I should have that fact in view to warn me. Oh, no Tom, I am only making this a bridge to carry me over a hard place."
"That's good sense. I was afraid you were going off with the base ball fever, and so never be fit for anything else. That's what will become of some of those young kids over in town who don't think of anything, from morning till night, but base ball. I always thought you had more sense into you than most of the boys around here. You are older than your years, Larry," and the plain-speaking blacksmith looked admiringly in the young man's face, "older than your years."
"Older than your years." These words rang in Larry's ears as he swung himself lightly into his saddle and ambled down the river road to Sugar Grove.
The blacksmith looked after him and muttered to himself, "He is smart enough to be anything in the way of a lawyer that there is in these parts. And if he were to cast sheep's eyes on the Judge's daughter, or on anybody else's daughter,for that matter, I just believe he would win her in time. He's got such a taking way with him." And honest Thomas Armstrong resumed his work with a mild glow of pleasure stealing through him as he thought of Larry Boyne and his possibilities.
CHAPTER VII.
IN THE FIELD.
Itwas an impressive occasion when the Catalpa club started on their first pilgrimage. They had arranged a practice game with the Black Hawk Nine, of Sandy Key, in the central part of the State, to begin the season with. Other games were arranged for later work, but this match, which was partly for practice, and partly to test the material of the new nine, was felt to be one of the most important. From Sandy Key the Nine were to go to Bluford to play the famous "Zoo-zoo Nine," as they called themselves, of that city, and then they were to begin a struggle for the championship of Northern Illinois with the Red Stockings of Galena. How much depended on the result of the meeting of the Black Hawks and the Catalpas, you who have followed the career of a base ball nine can best reckon.
In Catalpa, at least, the game would be watched with great, although distant, interest and absorption. Two orthree of the more active promoters of the Base Ball scheme were to go down to Sandy Key, which is on the Illinois Central Railroad, to witness the struggle of their favorite champions with the strangers. The Black Hawks were renowned as fielders. They had acquired a reputation that inspired terror among the base ball players of the southern portion of the state; and when it was noised abroad that a new nine from Dean County, heretofore unknown in the Diamond Field, had actually challenged the Black Hawks, experienced amateurs and professional players made remarks about the assurance of the new men from the North that were not intended to be complimentary or encouraging.
The Catalpas had adopted blue as their standard color, and a uniform of blue and white, with a pennant of white, edged and lettered with blue, carried the colors of the club into new and untried fields. Great was the enthusiasm of the townspeople when the club, packed into two big omnibuses, with their friends, finally departed for the railway station, which was on the outer and upper edge of the town. A vast number of sympathizing friends and well-wishers attended the party to the station, and those who remained in town watched with a certain impressiveness the coming train as it skirted North Catalpa, crossed the tall trestle work that spanned the river below the town and finally disappeared in the grove of trees near the depot.
It had been told all abroad that the new nine was to make its first sally on that train, and the jaded and dustypassengers from the North looked from the windows with languid interest as the lusty young fellows made a final rush for the cars, followed by the irregular cheers of the bystanders and accompanied by a goodly number of their old associates who were "going to see fair play." The conductor, with an affectation of indifference that he did not feel, disdained to look at the surging and animated crowd, but turned his face toward the engine, waved his hand, and shouted "all aboard!" just as if he did not carry Catalpa and its fortunes with him. The train rolled away, innumerable handkerchiefs and caps waving from its windows, and hearty and long resounding cheers flying after it. A cloud of yellow dust, a hollow rumble of the train on the culvert beyond, a tall column of blackness floating from the engine over the woods, and the Catalpa Nine were gone.
"I never felt so wrought up in all my life," said Alice Howell, confidentially, to her friend Ida Boardman, as they descended the hill toward the town. "It seems, sometimes, as if I was sure that our Nine would win, and then, again, I am almost certain that they will be beaten by the Black Hawks. I saw the Black Hawks play the Springfields, last summer, and they were glorious players; such fielding! Oh, I am almost sure they will out-field our boys."
"If our nine were all like that Larry Boyne; why, isn't he just splendid? If they were all like him, I should have no fears for Catalpa. And then there's Hiram Porter, how beautifully he does handle the bat! Don't you thinkLarry Boyne is the handsomest young fellow in the Nine, Alice?"
Alice colored, she knew not why, as she made answer: "I don't see what good looks have to do with playing. You are so illogical, Ida. What do you think of Ben Burton, for example. Don't you think he is handsome enough to make a good player?"
"Ben Burton! why he is perfectly horrid, and so disagreeable and high and mighty in his ways. I detest him, and if anybody loses the game, to-morrow, I hope it will be he. No, I take that back, for I cannot bear to think that anybody will lose the game for our Nine. Do you, Ally?"
Alice agreed most heartily with her friend that it would be a strange and lamentable catastrophe if the game at Sandy Key should be lost by the Catalpas.
"But I am afraid, I am afraid," the girl repeated as the twain slowly paced down the plank walk leading to the town. Her words were re-echoed, that day, many times by the people of Catalpa who would have given a great deal if "the boys" could have been thereby assured of success on the morrow.
Meantime, as the train was speeding onward, the nine were in high spirits and full of fun. For a time, at least, their thoughts were with those left behind rather than with the unknown adversaries that were before them. They were too young and buoyant to borrow trouble. Their spirits rose as they plunged forward into new scenes, and all suggestionsof possible defeats were left unheeded for to-day. Only Larry, "older than his years," felt a little foreboding at the entrance of this most important crisis of his young life. But his cheery face showed no sign of distrust or anxiety. He was, as usual, the center of a lively and talkative group of his comrades. He wore in his button-hole a delicate knot of flowers which had come there so mysteriously that none of the noisy fellows about him could guess who had put it there.
"Who is she? Why didn't we see her?" queried the laughing boys as they pressed around Larry, affecting to sniff great delight from his nosegay. Larry's face beamed as he told them that this was a reminder that every Irishman must do his duty, and that he was going to carry the little bouquet to the field of victory for the Catalpas.
"Those pansies grew in Judge Howell's garden," said Ben Burton, surlily, from his seat. Larry's eyes flashed at the covert insult that he thought he saw under Ben's sneer. But he said not a word.
"For shame, Ben Burton!" cried Al Heaton, "for shame to call names like that!"
There was a little cloud over the sun for a fleeting moment. But Larry's bright face and cheery voice soon dispelled the transient shadow, and the talk was turned into merrier channels. Ben Burton grumbled to himself, and, as he saw how his fellows clustered around Larry, whose brown and shining curls were only now and again visible among the lads who pranced about him, he said to Bill VanOrman, "Thinks he's the biggest toad in the puddle; don't he, Bill?" Bill, whose nickname was "The Lily," because he was so big, and red, and beefy, only opened his eyes in surprise.
The telegraph office in Catalpa was in the second story of Niles's building, a brick structure on the main street of the town and chiefly occupied by lawyers and doctors. The narrow stairway was found too narrow for the throngs of people who flocked thither, next day, to learn the news from the contest in Sandy Key. Arrangements had been made byThe Catalpa Leaf, the only daily paper in the place, to publish bulletins from the base ball ground, as fast as received. To all inquirers, Miss Millicent Murch, "the accomplished lady operator," as the local newspapers called her, stiffly replied that the telegraph office had no news to give away and that the editor ofThe Leafwould distribute his intelligence as soon as received.
Even to so great a personage as Judge Howell, who early appeared in search of information, the young lady gave her one unvarying answer. But public excitement ran high when, about two o'clock in the afternoon, a despatch from Al Heaton was received by his father, saying that the game had been called and that "the boys were in tip-top condition." Mr. Heaton signified his intention of staying at the office or thereabouts, until the game was over, in order to receive Al's despatches.
"Is Albert going to send despatches from the ballground, all day, Mr. Heaton?" asked Alice Howell, who, with sparkling eyes, was eagerly waiting for news from the absent company.
"Indeed he is, Alice," said Mr. Heaton. "That is what he went down to Sandy Key for, and I think you know my boy well enough to believe that he will keep us informed. Al is as much of an enthusiast in base ball matters as you and I are, my dear, and if he is alive and well we will hear from him until the fortunes of the day are decided." Mr. Heaton smiled in a kindly way as he looked down into the bright face of the young lady, and added, "And I believe and hope that he will send us a pleasant message before the day is done. Depend upon that."
"I hope so too, Mr. Heaton," Alice replied, with a slight cloud passing over her countenance, "but somehow, I feel as if we were to be defeated this time. I don't know why. But that is my superstitious notion about it."
Meantime, the telegraph machine had been industriously ticking and Miss Millicent writing as industriously, while the bystanders were talking in low tones.
"A message for Mr. Heaton," said the operator, with perfect composure, as she folded and placed in an envelope, duly addressed, a telegraph despatch which she handed to Mr. Heaton.
"Hateful old thing!" murmured Miss Ida Boardman, "she has had that message all the time and said nothing about it until she got good and ready."
"Hush!" said Alice, in a sort of stage whisper, "let us hear the news."
Mr. Heaton, having glanced hurriedly over the despatch, cried, "Good news from the boys! Hear this!" A dead silence prevailed in the office as the beaming miller read:—
Hurrah for our side! First two innings over. Catalpas score two. Black Hawks none. Great excitement in Sandy Key. Everything lovely.ALBERT.
Hurrah for our side! First two innings over. Catalpas score two. Black Hawks none. Great excitement in Sandy Key. Everything lovely.
ALBERT.
"Hooray!" broke from many lips, and the waiting crowd below the windows, hearing the cry, took it up and a fusillade of irregular and scattering hurrahs scattered along the street. Judge Howell, who had lingered during the noonday recess of his court, admonished the crowd that the lady at the telegraph desk would be embarrassed by the confusion, whereupon the company went out and added their joy to that of the assemblage that crowded around a bulletin that was at once posted by the door ofThe Catalpa Leafoffice.
"What did I tell you, Alice," said Miss Ida, regardless of the fact that she had told her nothing. "Didn't I say that the Catalpas would win?"
"But the game has only just begun," said Alice. "I am still hoping and fearing, and I am not going to be put off of my base, so to speak, by the first news which happens to be good. Only two innings, Ida; remember that."
The cheering of the small boys and the excited commentsof the still smaller girls, however, proved infectious. One would think that a great battle had been fought, and that victory was already assured to the household troops. The dry-goods man laid down his yard-stick; the carpenter dropped his plane, and even the old bridge-tender forsook his post long enough to stroll into the nearest barber-shop and ask for the news from "the boys" in Sandy Key.
"Another bulletin!" cried Hank Jackson, the burly short stop of the Dean County Nine, as the tall form of Mr. Heaton emerged from the telegraph office. This time, the face of the ardent champion of Catalpa's prowess was not illuminated by a smile. Mounting a convenient dry-goods box, he announced that two more innings had been played and that the score then stood two and two, the Black Hawks having made two runs, and the Catalpas having added nothing to their score. A blank silence fell on the assemblage and Henry Jackson vengefully planted his big fist, with a tremendous thud, upon the short ribs of a side of beef that hung from the doorway of Adee's butcher shop. "That for the Black Hawks," he muttered, with clenched teeth.
But a great triumph was in store for the friends of the absent sons of Catalpa. Even while Alice Howell was trying to cheer her despondent friend Ida with the suggestion that the game was "yet young," the Editor ofThe Leaf, whose despatches were sent to him across the street in a flying box attached to a wire, put his dishevelled head outof his office window and excitedly cried, "Three cheers for the Catalpa Nine! Fifth inning, Catalpas, five; Black Hawks, one!"
There was something like a little groan for the discomfited Black Hawks and then a wild yell broke out for the home nine. The small boys hurrahed shrilly and lustily, and even the street dogs, sharing in the general joy, barked noisily and aimlessly around the edges of the crowd. Miss Anstress Howell, scanning the joyful mob from the windows of her brother's office, remarked to herself, with aggravated sourness, that it was perfectly ridiculous to see Alice mixing herself up there in the street with a lot of lunatics who were making themselves absurd over a pesky base ball game, away down in Sangamon County. It was unaccountable.
Judge Howell, sitting on his judicial bench in the court-house on the hill, heard the pother in the town below and covertly smiled behind his large white hand to think that the home nine was undoubtedly doing well in Sandy Key.
Once more the traditional enterprise of the daily press vindicated itself with the earliest news, and Editor Downey put out of his office window his uncovered head, every hair of which stood up with excitement, as he bawled, "Sixth inning, Catalpas, none; Black Hawks, two. Seventh inning, no runs scored."
"Now you yoost keep your big fists out of my beef!" said Jake Adee, with his wrathful eye fixed on HankJackson, who was looking around for some enemy to punch. There was depression in the crowd, but Alice Howell smiled cheerfully in the rueful face of Mr. Heaton and said that she felt her spirits rising. She was getting more confident as the rest of the party became despondent.
"THREE CHEERS FOR THE CATALPA NINE."—Page 78.
The innings had been made rapidly. Scarcely an hour had passed, and, so intense was the interest in the game, that everybody thought the despatches had trodden upon each other in their hurry to tumble into Catalpa. It was a warm, bright day, and the prairie wind blew softly down the hill above the town. To look into the knots of people standing about the street corners, one would suppose that it was an August noon. Everybody was perspiring. It was a warm engagement down there in Sandy Key where the boys were vigorously doing battle for the honor of old Catalpa. But it seemed even hot in the town where the people waited for the news.
So when Mr. Heaton, radiant with joy, and without waiting to come down the stairs of the telegraph office, put his leg and his head out of the window of the building and cried "Good news again!" everybody stood breathless. As Miss Anstress Howell afterwards remarked, with disdain, one might have heard a pin drop.
Victory! victory! Eighth inning, Catalpas, nine; Black Hawks, none. Glory enough for one day. Your loving son,ALBERT.
Victory! victory! Eighth inning, Catalpas, nine; Black Hawks, none. Glory enough for one day. Your loving son,
ALBERT.
Then went up a shout that reached the jury in the case of the County of Dean against Jeremiah Stowell, shut up in the close room provided in the court-house for jurors and other criminals, and which startled Judge Howell, who, looking out of the window from his private room, beheld his daughter, flushed and almost tearful with joy, hurrying across the court-house green, eager to tell her father the good news. The solitary horse-thief in the jail heard that hurrah and wondered if relief was coming to him from his long-delayed accomplices. Dr. Everett, reining his sturdy steed at the next street corner above the telegraph office, asked a wandering small boy what had happened, but got no answer, for the urchin was off like a shot to tell his mates who were bathing prematurely down under the mill dam. And careful housewives, making ready their early suppers, in houses beyond the railroad track, heard the yell of triumph, and softly laughed to be told in this far-off way that the Catalpa nine were victorious over their adversaries in Sandy Key.
The game was virtually decided. The ninth and last inning showed one run for the Catalpas and a "goose egg" for the Black Hawks. There was more cheering in the street under the windows of the telegraph office. Somebody suggested that the flag should be hoisted on the Court House, but fears of Judge Howell's displeasure and veto prevailed, and the proposition fell dead. Hiram Porter's father, however, raised the stars and stripes over the Catalpa House of which he was proprietor. Editor Downey flung out from his third storywindow the red bunting with the white Catalpa Leaf that symbolized his standard sheet to the world below.
Later on, when the wild shower of despatches from Al Heaton, Hiram Porter, and others of the home nine, had ceased for a time, this bulletin appeared on the board ofThe Catalpa Leaf.
A GLORIOUS VICTORY FOR OUR NINE! OLD CATALPA TO THE FRONT!1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9Catalpas2 0 0 0 5 0 0 9 1=17.Black Hawks0 0 0 2 1 2 0 0 0= 5.First Base by errors,Catalpas, 8;Black Hawks, 1.Earned Runs,Catalpas, 7;Black Hawks, 1.Struck out,Catalpas, 2;Black Hawks, 5.Our esteemed fellow citizen, Benjamin F. Burton, especially distinguished himself with his fine play at short stop, and Larry Boyne, of Sugar Grove, did some of the most brilliant work in the game, having made the highest number of runs of any man in the Nine, and being 'like lightning' as a third base man. Great excitement prevails in Sandy Key, but our men have been treated with distinguished courtesy by the citizens. The receipts at the gate were nearly $1,000.
A GLORIOUS VICTORY FOR OUR NINE! OLD CATALPA TO THE FRONT!
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9Catalpas2 0 0 0 5 0 0 9 1=17.Black Hawks0 0 0 2 1 2 0 0 0= 5.First Base by errors,Catalpas, 8;Black Hawks, 1.Earned Runs,Catalpas, 7;Black Hawks, 1.Struck out,Catalpas, 2;Black Hawks, 5.
Our esteemed fellow citizen, Benjamin F. Burton, especially distinguished himself with his fine play at short stop, and Larry Boyne, of Sugar Grove, did some of the most brilliant work in the game, having made the highest number of runs of any man in the Nine, and being 'like lightning' as a third base man. Great excitement prevails in Sandy Key, but our men have been treated with distinguished courtesy by the citizens. The receipts at the gate were nearly $1,000.
When Al Heaton came home, next day, he was the hero and oracle of the hour. By reflection, he was shining with the honors of the Catalpa Nine. Wherever he went aboutthe town, he was sure to become the center of an admiring knot of fellow-citizens and small boys, eager to learn how the absent ball-players bore themselves in the arena at Sandy Key.
"I tell you what it is, fellows," said Albert, "you should have seen 'The Lily,' as they call Bill Van Orman, get on the home base in the fifth inning. He never stopped to look for the ball. He seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, and just as he was on the point of being caught out, when he was at least ten feet from the home base, he gave a lunge and threw himself flat on his stomach, ploughed up the turf as he plunged forwards, and, reaching out, grabbed the bag with his hands before he could be put out. Ten feet did I say? Well, I should say it was nearer fifteen feet. And you should have seen 'The Lily's' track where he scooted along that turf."
"TheLeaf'scorrespondent telegraphed that Ben Burton covered himself all over with glory," remarked Jason Elderkin. "How was that?"
"Well, you see that Ben, being at short stop, had many opportunities to do good work, and he put in some very fine licks at different times. For instance, in the first play he put out Harris, the Black Hawk's pitcher, after having muffed the ball, and then picked it up on the run. Everybody said it was one of the best in-field plays of the day. And in the eighth inning, he made a beautiful run, stealing two bases just as easy as falling off a log. Oh, I tellyou, Ben is a first-rate player, and they say that the Captain of the Chicago Calumets was down there and wanted to know if Ben would go into their Nine, next season. Ben was very high and mighty about something, and I guess that that was what was the matter with him. He was very much set up about something."
The mention of the famous Calumets evoked much enthusiasm among the base ball connoisseurs of Catalpa, and it was noised about the town that that club might be induced to accept a challenge from the Catalpa Nine. Albert Heaton, when asked what he thought of the possibility of such an event, shook his head.
"I tell you what, Doctor," he said to Dr. Selby, "we all thought it pretty cheeky in our boys to accept a challenge from the Black Hawks, and it is astonishing that we got out of the scrape as well as we did. To be sure, we came off with flying colors, and we have made a great reputation, that is to say, the boys have, for I am not in the Nine. But the Calumets are the champions of the State, and I suppose they will be to the end of the season; to the end of the chapter, unless something very unexpected happens. I guess our boys had better be contented with the laurels they will win outside of Chicago, this year, at any rate."
But that very day while Albert was strolling across the bridge with Miss Alice Howell, and pouring into her ear a glowing account of Larry Boyne's prowess in the field at Sandy Key, he told her, in the strictest confidence,that the Catalpas would never be satisfied until they had measured their strength with the famous Chicago nine, the Calumets.
Alice's eyes sparkled, whether with the excitement stirred by Albert's narrative of Larry's exploits, or at the prospect of so bold a dash for fame as that proposed by the Catalpas, it is not easy to say. The young girl's ardor cooled when she considered the chances against the success of the Catalpas in so unequal a contest.
"I did not believe that we should beat the Black Hawks," said she. "I was almost sure that we should be defeated, and when the tide began to turn in favor of the Catalpas, I could not bring myself to believe that we were actually going to carry off the honors of the day. It was a famous victory, to be sure, and I hope that the Nine will be able to do as well through the season, and then, if all goes well, another season may see them pitted against the best nine in the state, even the best in the country; who knows? They have made a glorious beginning, haven't they, Albert?"
Of course this was conceded by so fast a friend of the absent Nine as Al Heaton certainly was, and it was also clear to even an impartial observer that the Nine had made something of a name for themselves, at the very outset of their career, by defeating the Black Hawks, a Nine of established reputation, victors in many fields.
"What would you think if our nine were to play theCalumets, papa?" asked Alice that night, as they lingered over the tea-table.
"Think?" said the Judge. "I should think that it was a great piece of assurance."
"So should I!" replied Alice; "but I wish they could do it."
CHAPTER VIII.
A TURN OF THE TIDE.
Defeat, utter and overwhelming, followed the Catalpas to Bluford, where they played the "Zoo-Zoo Nine" of that city. The "Zoo-Zoos" were picked players, the lineal descendants of a company of Illinois Zouaves renowned in the Civil War for their bravery, dash, and skill as skirmishers. The original founders of the club had long since disappeared from the field of action, but their successors bore up the banner of their illustrious namesakes with infinite credit. None of the Catalpa people had gone to Bluford to witness the game, Al Heaton being sick at home and the other immediate friends of the Nine being too busy with their farms and merchandise. And so it happened that the only news that came to the town from Bluford dribbled in from the Keokuck evening papers, sent by wire to the editor ofThe Catalpa Leaf, late at night. Mr. Downey did not think it worth while to post on his bulletin board the discouraging news that the "Zoo-Zoo Nine" had beatenthe Catalpas by a score of eleven to one. But the news got out, of course, for the whole town was on the alert to hear the result from Bluford.
Albert Heaton was sitting up in bed, alternately shaken with ague and parched with fever, when his little sister brought him the unwelcome tidings. He groaned aloud and asked if Alice Howell had heard the news. Mrs. Heaton, a motherly woman who had no patience with base ball players that go about the country, like circus-riders, remarked, with some asperity, that she should suppose that Judge Howell would put a stop to Alice's giving so much time and attention to base ball. For herself, if she had a grown-up daughter, she would try and put something else into her head than base ball and such mannish and vulgar doings. If Alice's mother was alive, it would be mighty different in the Howell family. As it was, the Judge allowed Alice to do just about as she pleased, and it was a shame, so it was, for a nice young girl like Alice to be permitted to make a tom-boy of herself. Flirting with that young Irish fellow from Sugar Grove! Did anybody ever hear of the like?
"Oh, mother," sighed poor Albert. "If you only knew how sick and sore I am for the boys, you would let up on Larry. If you had let me go with the Nine, perhaps I might have helped them out of the defeat. At any rate, it might have been less of a clean-out than it is. Dear me! How cold I am! Cover me up and let me be."
With a pang of remorse at having added unwittingly to Albert's sufferings, his mother soothed the sick boy and left him to sorrowful meditations. "And I was fool enough to think that the boys would be able to challenge the Calumets." With these repentant meditations, Albert sunk into a feverish and uneasy sleep. He might have dreamed (perhaps he did) that at that very moment, Alice Howell was looking out into the gloom of the moist summer night and lamenting with bitterness the defeat of "our nine."
Next day, whenThe Leafcame out, and fuller particulars of the game were made known in a despatch from Charlie King, there was nothing to mitigate the gloom of the friends of the Catalpas. Singularly enough, some of the Dean County Nine, who had been among the most enthusiastic "boomers" of the Catalpa Nine, now assumed a most discouraging attitude. They were sure, so they said, that the Catalpas would be defeated all along the line. They had won the game at Sandy Key by a scratch. They had found their true level in Bluford. They would be beaten along the river, for it was well known that the nines in the river towns were far ahead of those in the interior of the state.
Something of this talk reached the ears of Al Heaton, who was still suffering from fever-and-ague. He took up his bottle of cholagogue and shook it at his terrified little brother (who had retailed the gossip of the drug store, where he had been sent on an errand), and said, "If you hear any such infernal nonsense as that, down town, Dan,you go and tell Tom Selby that I want him to lick the first fellow that says anything against our nine. Do you mind me?"
Little Dan promised stoutly that he would give Tom the message. Whether he did or not, it came to pass that Henry Jackson and Thomas Selby had a discussion, that very night, and that Dr. Selby sent his son home with strict injunctions to cover his face with brown paper and vinegar, while the big-fisted Henry went to bed with a bit of raw beef on his eye.
There is nothing like news from the field of battle to bring out the partisan feelings of a community far from the scene of strife. Catalpa was stirred to its very depths by the ill tidings brought from Bluford. Those who disapproved of base ball asserted themselves in the most unexpected and exasperating manner. Nobody had suspected that there were in Catalpa so many who sympathized not with the home nine and who secretly wished that they might be defeated. But the fact that the nine had met with disaster only stimulated their friends to new courage and stronger hopes for the future. This was a time, they said, for the friends of the nine to show themselves. Mr. Heaton sent an encouraging despatch to Larry Boyne, assuring him that the temporary reverse had only strengthened the confidence of home friends of the club. Even Judge Howell, who was greatly concerned lest the nine should be unduly depressed by their reverses, authorized Lewis Morris to write to Hiram Porter,as Captain of the club, and say to him that the club must be prepared for occasional defeats and that the next news from "the front" would undoubtedly be inspiring to the many supporters of the Catalpas.
"The Judge is a brick!" said Larry Boyne, when this message was read to the members of the club, as they lounged in one of the bed-rooms of Quapaw House, in Galena, where the boys were waiting to begin the championship series of games with the Red Stockings.
"That's just what he is!" exclaimed "The Lily," bringing his somewhat battered fist down with emphasis on a convenient pillow. Bill had had hard luck in the late contest. His fingers had been badly sprained and twisted, and he had played with infinite difficulty on account of the battering that he had received in a game played with the Fulton City Nine, when the Catalpas were on their way to Bluford from Sandy Key. But he was still confident and determined.
"I suppose some of the folks at home think that we are going to get beaten right along, every day from this out," he continued, with a scornful laugh. "They don't know us, do they, Larry? They don't know what we had to contend with in Bluford, what with being used up with that hard ride on the strap-iron railroad and the lame fingers of your humble servant. Oh, yes, I suppose there is downheartedness among the boys at home."
"But I know one chap who is not downhearted," saidLarry Boyne, cheerfully, "and that is Al Heaton. He will never get discouraged, whatever happens. And then there is his father, his despatch shows where he stands. Al is clear grit and so is his father; you may depend on that, boys."
Ben Burton, who had virtually lost the game in Bluford by his repeated muffing of the ball, as well as by his failure at the bat, sneered as he said, "I suppose a certain young lady in North Catalpa prompted the Judge's despatch, didn't she, Larry?"
Larry, with reddening cheeks, protested that he had no idea that Judge Howell needed any prompting from anybody to send a good word to the boys when they were away from home; he was too kind-hearted a man, although a little stiff, to require any hint from outsiders to do the fair thing by the Base Ball Club in whose welfare he had already shown great interest.
"I didn't say 'outsiders,' Larry," replied Burton, persistently. "I said that he was probably prompted by a young lady."
At this, Larry deliberately rose and walked out of the room, without a word.
"I say, Ben, can't you quit your everlasting nagging of Larry," broke in Hiram Porter, as the door closed with a bang behind that indignant young man. "What's the use of your getting into a debate, every day or two, about some mysterious young lady that you two fellows are thinking about? Let up! I wish you would."
Ben muttered something about the Captain's showing his little brief authority in matters that did not concern the club, when, by general consent, the meeting was broken up for the more important business of practice on the Galena Base Ball Grounds, placed at the disposal of the visitors by the managers of the championship series.
CHAPTER IX.
HOPE AND SUSPENSE.
Itwas the custom in Catalpa for the storekeepers to hang out at their doors a little blue flag when they wanted the services of an errand boy. Seeing this signal at the door of Jason Elderkin's dry-goods store, Rough and Ready, wearing in the heats of summer as in winter his 'coonskin cap, shambled in and asked what was wanted. Jason lifted his spectacles from his nose and said, jocularly: "Why, Rough and Ready, I thought you had gone up to Galena to see the match between the boys and the Galena Club."
"No sir-ee," replied the old man, "I have staid at home to keep the town in order. Me and Jedge Howell, we have to look after the boys at home, you know, or some of these frisky young colts like Jase Ayres would get away with the town whilst we were gone." And the old man chuckled as he added, "Cap. Heaton, he and his boy Al have gone together, and they do say that Mrs. Heaton is just wild because she can't keep the old man at home when base ball is going on. Well, it does beat all natur', don't it? Here'sAl kept out of the Nine because it isn't high-toned enough for Mrs. Heaton; and here's father and son gone a-galivanting up to Galena to see the show."
"I hear that Al has sent a despatch to the Judge's daughter saying that the Catalpas are going to carry off the honors this time, and no mistake," said the storekeeper. "How's that, Rough?"
"Seein' as how this bundle is going over to Boardman's, I'll jest drop in at the Jedge's house on my way back, and see if Miss Ally has got any news from the seat of war, as it were, and if she has, she'll be sure to tell me. Oh, she's clear grit, too, is that gal, and she knows that I set a heap by Larry. Larry! why, it was him what give my boy all the points he has got in the game, and you may lay your bottom dollar that that boy is goin' to be the all-firedest batter in the Stone River country; and you put that down to remember."
The garrulous old man shouldered his bundle as he spoke and plodded down Bridge Street and so across to the north side of the town. It was the day for the first game of the championship at Galena. The hot sun poured down into the Stone River Valley with great power, and the bleached surface of the old wooden bridge shimmered with undulating lines of heat as Rough and Ready toiled on his way. The roar of the dam had a cooling sound, and the group of cotton-woods and willows on the little island above were green and refreshing to the eye. But no breeze drew up the river,and all of the north side was steeped in liquid sunshine, the trees standing motionless and the yellow road glaring in the blinding light. The toll-keeper's dog panted in the shade of the toll-house, lolling his tongue as old Rough and Ready passed by, without stopping for a word of gossip with the keeper who dozed within the doorway.
The old man paused, when half-way across the bridge, to lift his furry cap from his head and wipe the servile drops from off his burning brow. While he rested his bundle on the guard rail of the bridge, Miss Anstress Howell, the Judge's aged sister, came mincing along from the North Catalpa side, cool and fresh as if she had never before been outside of a bandbox.
"I wonder ef it will be safe to tackle her for news from Galena?" muttered the old man to himself. "She's a dangerous team to fool with. Mebbe she'll get away with me, but I'll try it."
"Good arternoon, Miss Howell. Fine hot day. Good growin' weather, as the farmers say. Hev you heerd that any of your folks got a despatch from Galena givin' any account of how the ball opens?"
Miss Howell's manner stiffened a little as she said, with a slight toss of her head, "Judge Howell, my brother, is holding court in Pawpaw, to-day, for Judge Sniffles, and nobody else but the Judge would be likely to have any despatches concerning base ball."
"Well, Miss Howell, I heerd over in town that MissAlly had a message of some kind, no offence to you, marm, and I want to hear from the boys powerful bad, you see, and so I make bold to ask if Miss Alice mayn't hev a despatch, or something from Larry, I mean Al."
"There is altogether too much nonsense about this base ball business in Catalpa, Mr. Rough,—excuse me, I forget your other name. It does seem to me as if the people had gone crazy, and the weather so hot too! Excuse me, I don't know anything about what is going on in Galena, no more than a child, I may say, and if any grown people want to begin over again and make children of themselves with playing ball, they have my sympathy."
So saying, and flirting off an imaginary fleck of dust from her gown with a spotless handkerchief, Miss Howell resumed her deliberate walk across the bridge. Rough and Ready replaced his cap, and looking after her said, "Sarves me right! I might hev knowed that I should get the worst on it in a talk with her. My grief! But she is a teaser. Has forgot all about the time when she was a young gal, it's so long ago. P'raps she never was young." With this, the old man shouldered his bundle and slowly made his way northward.
But Alice had received a telegram from Galena, and as Rough and Ready climbed the slope by the Judge's house, a sunny head was popped from one of its upper windows and Alice's cheerful voice cried, "Oh, Roughy,—excuse me for calling you Roughy, but I'm so glad!—Albert Heaton has telegraphed to me that the Catalpas have made ten runs inthe first three innings and the Galenas only one! Isn't that perfectly splendid? Does anybody over in town know anything about it?"
"GOOD ARTERNOON, MISS HOWELL. FINE HOT DAY."—Page 95.
"Bless your bright eyes! Miss Ally, no; the whole town's asleep. It's a hot day, you know, and there's nobody stirring. All the farmers are busy with their crops, and the streets are as lonesome as a last year's bird's nest. Ten to one, did you say? By the great horn spoon! I must go back and wake up the folks."
Suiting the action to the word, the old man tossed Mrs. Boardman's bundle of sheeting over the fence and made his way back to town as fast as his rheumatic legs would carry him. Half way across, he met Lewis Morris who was on his way over to verify the rumor that he had caught concerning the early success of the Catalpas in Galena.
"Hooray for our side!" cried Rough and Ready, exultingly. "I have heard it from the gentle Miss Ally. Our boys have made ten runs in the first three innings, and the Galena fellows have made one—one whole one."
"Then I'll turn right around and tell the news in town!" said Lewis, with excitement. "I'll have to stir the people up, for the whole town has gone to sleep, except Dr. Selby, and he was sweating at every pore, as I came by the drug store, for thinking of another defeat for the Catalpas."
Rough and Ready gazed after the rapidly retreating form of the young man who turned and stepped swiftly across thebridge. Then, putting his hand to his 'coonskin cap, as if trying to recall something to his mind, he murmured, "If I didn't go and leave that ther bundle of sheetin' in the Judge's dooryard! 'Pears to me as if that pesky base ball had knocked my wits clean out." And, smiling at his own feeble joke, he retraced his steps to the North Catalpa side of the river.
When Lewis Morris reached the center of the town, he saw a knot of men and boys gathered around the bulletin board ofThe Leaf. "Just my luck," he muttered. "Downey has got the news out, and they have taken the edge of it off before I could get back."
But Lewis forgot his little disappointment when he eagerly scanned the bulletin which the editor had posted during his brief run across the bridge. This was what he read:
An overwhelming victory for our nine! In the contest to-day, the Catalpas were the victors by a score of 13 to 3. Great enthusiasm prevails and the visiting nine are now being cheered by the excited populace. The result has astonished everybody, none more so than the defeated nine and their immediate friends. Our esteemed fellow townsman, Mr. Albert Heaton, Senior, has telegraphed toThe Leafthe score by innings, as follows:1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9total.Catalpas5 4 1 0 0 2 1 0 0 13.Galenas1 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 1 3.Errors,Galenas, 13;Catalpas, 1.
An overwhelming victory for our nine! In the contest to-day, the Catalpas were the victors by a score of 13 to 3. Great enthusiasm prevails and the visiting nine are now being cheered by the excited populace. The result has astonished everybody, none more so than the defeated nine and their immediate friends. Our esteemed fellow townsman, Mr. Albert Heaton, Senior, has telegraphed toThe Leafthe score by innings, as follows:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9total.Catalpas5 4 1 0 0 2 1 0 0 13.Galenas1 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 1 3.Errors,Galenas, 13;Catalpas, 1.
"Here's Lew Morris!" cried brawny Hank Jackson, "Glory enough for one day! hey, Lew? Everybody in Galena was astonished, they say, and so was everybody in Catalpa, for that matter. Why, I was just coming along the street with Andy Brubaker, and we was a-talking about the chances of our nine's giving up the season if they got cleaned out in Galena, when I heard Mr. Downey tell Dr. Selby that the home nine had beat the Galenas on the first six innings, and says I to him, 'If that's so, Mr. Downey, why don't you put it on the bulletin?' Sure enough, he went up them stairs, five at a time, to have it done, and no sooner had he got up there than he put his head outen the winder and screeched, 'The Catalpas have won the game by thirteen to three!' Gosh! you should have heerd the whoop that the boys gave! And there it is, as big as life." And Hank regarded the bulletin board with an affectionate interest.
The fact was that the community of Catalpa was unprepared for any such victory as that which had dropped in upon them, as it were, like a bolt out of a clear sky. The defeat at Bluford had unnerved all but a few faithful and undaunted spirits, and the usual dull current of town life had resumed its sluggishness until the unexpected news from the north had startled the townsfolk into new alertness. It was a great achievement, as the Galenas were famed for their prowess in the Diamond Field. They were reckoned as first in the number of batters in their nine. One of them, Devoy,stood very near the head of the list of champion batters in the state, and another, Shallcross, was not far behind him in his general average. Yet the Catalpas had "got away with" the famous players. It was marvellous how the news flew through the town and out upon the prairie, so that by the time the moon rose, red and full, over the bluffy banks above Catalpa, in innumerable cabins and farm-houses, far out on the distant wheat-farms, and over many an evening meal, the details of the triumph and its probable effect on the fortunes of "our nine" were discussed with a glow of pride, or with a lively curiosity.
"The boys," in Galena, resting from their labors, and withdrawn from the admiring attention of the citizens of the town, lounged in a big bedroom in the Quapaw House, and told, over and over again, the stirring incidents of the day—incidents on which so much depended that they now became almost like ancient history in importance. They were not too tired to play another game right then, so exhilarated were they by their unwonted success. There was no murmuring, no jealousy, and no "nagging" in the party now. Every man was elated and flushed with a sense of his own value as a factor in the game that had been played, as well as in that which was to be played on the morrow.
"Somehow, boys, I feel it in my bones that we are going to beat to-morrow," said Larry Boyne, who had won fresh laurels in the field, that day. And Larry's bright eyes sparkled anew as he spoke.
"Well, that's a new rôle for you to play, Larry," said Al Heaton who was admiringly hanging over Larry, whom he regarded as the rising player of the country. "You always were a croaker, you know, Larry, old boy, and for you to say that you feel confident of victory now, makes me almost shudder. It seems as if you were losing your head; only I know you are not."