CHAPTER XXVTHE SECOND GAME
Certainly, as Tony said, our luck had turned. As the morning advanced, the rain continued to fall, so the question of playing ball was practically settled. About ten o’clock Tony telegraphed to the secretary of the Park nine, “Raining hard. Shall we come?” Within an hour he received the following answer from Berkeley, “Impossible to play. Game will have to be postponed. Will write you later.”
Mutual congratulations followed. The fellows were all delighted, and at noon a jubilant, happy crowd assembled in Ray’s room to discuss the matter.
“Nothing could have pleased me better,” said Ray. “For the first time in my life I am glad to see it rain on a baseball day. It gives Harry time to cure his wrist, and the rest of us several days more of practice. It is just what we most needed.”
“Pour away, old boy!” exclaimed Tony, as a sudden gust of wind brought the rain swirling against the window panes. “You have done the square thing by us to-day. I’ll never complain of the weather again—never. Say, Ray, what new date had we better arrange for the game?”
“I was just thinking of that,” answered Ray. “We can’t get a day off in the middle of the week. The faculty don’t want us to go away except on Saturdays.”
“Suppose we appoint the Monday following the Halford game,” I said. “The faculty might object to our going away twice. Now, as the Halford game takes place next Saturday, we might stay at Halford over Sunday, and play the Park men Monday afternoon, on our way back. In that way we can do it all up in one trip, and be back here Monday night.”
“A very good idea,” answered Ray, “and if the Park men are agreeable, we had better fix it that way by all means.”
The consent of our faculty to this scheme was easily obtained, and the correspondence which Tony held with the Park men resulted in their acceptance of the arrangement, so the game was appointed to take place on the Monday following our trip to Halford.
The marked improvement in uniformity and excellence of play on the part of our nine during the next week confirmed Ray’s statement that all we needed to perfect ourselves was a few days’ more practice. My wrist give me little trouble in the early part of the week, so Wednesday morning I made the experiment of pitching a whole practice game through and found that I suffered nothing in consequence. Thursday and Friday, therefore, I took my regular practice with the others, and in proportion as my wrist recovered strength I recovered confidence. Duringthese last two days I do not think any one would have known that I had suffered any injury. My enforced rest seemed, if anything, to have done me good, for Friday I certainly felt more in the spirit of the game, and pitched more effectively, than I had done before I hurt my wrist.
“You needn’t come down this afternoon, fellows,” said Ray, as we left the grounds at one o’clock. “Keep quiet and remember to go to bed early to-night.”
We had arranged to leave the next morning on the 9:30 train, but I was up by seven o’clock anxious to know what the weather had in store for us. To my delight, I found on opening my curtains that fortune again favored us, this time with bright sunshine and an almost cloudless sky.
“It may be hot,” I thought, “but still what of that, so long as it doesn’t rain.”
At the depot I found a large and interested crowd of students who had assembled, as was their custom, to see us off. The nine were all there, cheerful and in good spirits, Tony Larcom rushing around like a chicken with its head off, buying our tickets, checking our luggage, and answering all sorts of questions at the same time.
“At last!” he exclaimed as he caught sight of me, and stopped a moment to mop the perspiration from his face. “I was afraid you were going to be late. Got your valise? Here give it to me, I’ll get it checked. Jim; Jim! come here and get this valise.Hullo, Jim! Where in thunder is that fellow?—oh there you are—get this checked right away and have it ready with the other things. Cæsar’s ghost! but isn’t it hot? Yes, Frank, I’ll telegraph the score immediately after the game, don’t you fear. Here, you fellows, get out of my way—how do you expect me to do anything with a dozen or more crowding and jamming——” and off he rushed while I joined the other members of the nine.
In a few moments the train arrived and we quickly clambered aboard, Tony making sure that we were all there before he ascended the platform. Then, as the train moved off, Tony waved his hat, while the crowd at the station gave three rousing cheers, and with this encouraging sound ringing in our ears, we set off for Halford.
We expected to arrive there about eleven o’clock, for Halford was not many miles beyond Berkeley. Ray took advantage of this opportunity to say a few final words of caution. During the week he had frequently mentioned several points of weakness in the Halford nine, and given us directions as to the best manner of taking advantage of them. One point in particular he had brought out strong, and this he reiterated now.
“Remember,” he said, “the Halford men chiefly lack nerve at critical junctures. They are apt to go to pieces if pushed hard. They will play a strong game while they are in the lead, and while they can keep the bases clear; but heavy batting will demoralizethem, and I think we can easily manage their pitcher. We must try to fill the bases. We must hit the ballevery time. Don’t try to make home runs all the time, buthit the ball, and run bases daringly. Take every possible chance. We may lose one or two points by so doing, but we will gain in the end, for it will demoralize them, I know.”
When we arrived at Halford we found Slade and Bennett, the secretary and captain of their nine, awaiting us. The feeling between Halford and Belmont Colleges had always been extremely friendly, and kept up by succeeding generations with as much respect for the tradition as had our bitter animosity for Park College. Our reception, therefore, was of the pleasantest nature possible.
“Very sorry to hear of your hard luck over at Dean,” said Slade, as he shook hands with Ray and me.
“Yes, it was too bad,” answered Ray, “but you have had your share of misfortune too—last Wednesday, I mean. I think you should have had that game.”
“Well, so do we,” said Bennett, “but what could we expect, playing as we did on their ground? We had to play the nine and the whole crowd too. I fear you will get your dose of it on Monday.”
“I suppose so,” answered Ray.
Halford had received a donation from a wealthy graduate of money enough to lay out new grounds and construct a new and large grand stand. As weentered the gate in our carriages after dinner, the sight that met our eyes was enough to gladden the heart of any baseball enthusiast.
The new diamond was as level as a billiard table, and covered with fresh, green, closely cropped grass, while the grand stand was gaily decorated with flags, and filled with a chattering and laughing crowd of people.
“Great Scott,” exclaimed Percy Randall, “just look at that outfield, boys! There isn’t a blade of grass on it, and it is as smooth and hard as a board. If we knock a hard ball outside of the diamond it will roll into the middle of next week.”
“That’s just what we want to do, fellows,” answered Ray promptly. “Hit low and hard, and the ball won’t stop this side of the fence. Remember now for the last time, fellows: don’t hit up in the air—hit hard and low, and run your bases like tigers.”
We were accorded the compliment of a round burst of applause, as the Halford men came in from their practice, and we ran out on the field. This put us in the best of spirits, and we set to work picking up the balls, catching them on the fly, and throwing them from base to base with a brilliancy and dash that elicited frequent acknowledgment from the grand stand. We had only ten minutes for our preliminary exercise; then the signal sounded, and the game was called.
Now that fortune had turned, it persisted in our favor, for we won the toss, and chose the field. Fullof confidence we ran to our various positions, and their first batter took his place.
Not being quite warmed to work yet, I made the mistake of placing the first ball directly over the plate. The batter caught it about the center of his bat, and sent it away out to center field. It had not occurred to us in our calculations that the outfield might prove as advantageous to our opponents as to ourselves in case they hit hard; but this was brought forcibly to my mind, for, before the ball was captured on the ground by Lewis Page, the batter reached second base. This was greeted by a round of applause, but nothing daunted, we settled down to work, and put out the next man in short order.
Then came a hard ground hit to George Ives, who threw the batter out at first base, but this enabled the first batter to reach third. Then a safe hit was made just over Ray Wendell’s head, and the runner on third base scored. The next man I succeeded in striking out, and we took the bat.
George Ives opened with a good safe hit, and according to Ray Wendell’s direction, he dashed down to second base at the first ball pitched. The catcher hardly expected this, threw over the second baseman’s head, and George reached third. The next two, Percy Randall and myself, were thrown out at first base, and it looked almost as if George Ives would be left on third, but Holland saved us from this by hitting safe and bringing George home. We made no more runs, and the inning closed with the score 1–1.
In the second inning neither scored. In the third inning Halford made one run, while we were blanked. But in the fourth inning we returned the compliment by making a run and blanking them. In the fifth inning they made one more run, making the score 3–2 in their favor. In the sixth and seventh innings they kept this lead, and prevented us from scoring.
In spite of their being ahead, we had felt no anxiety, for we were sure of our superiority both in the field and at the bat, and we believed that our time would come. It was only at the end of the seventh inning that we felt the least uneasy.
“Boys,” said Ray, “this won’t do. We are nearing the end of the game, and they are still in the lead. We must break this up. You see, it is just as I told you: they play a fine game while they keep the bases clean. We haven’t pushed them hard enough. We must set the ball rolling. Start her off, Alfred.”
His last words were addressed to Burnett, who was first at the bat in the ending of the eighth inning. But Alfred evidently did not see his way clear, for he struck out.
“Oh, pshaw, let me show you,” cried Percy Randall cheerfully, as he took his position.
Percy was as good as his word, and at the second ball pitched, placed it nicely over the short stop’s head, reaching first base in safety. This was Percy’s first chance and we immediately learned his value. He followed Ray’s instructions by performing two successivefeats of reckless base running such as I had never in my life seen before.
At the very first ball he was off for second base. The catcher threw straight and true, but Percy hurled himself forward head first, and slid into the base safely. Hastily picking himself up and without stopping to dust himself off, he started off at the next ball, and dashed for third base. Again the catcher threw straight, but, by another brilliant slide, Percy reached third.
This took the Halford men by storm. They had never seen anything quite like Percy’s impudence, and the success of it staggered them. I was at the bat and waiting for a good ball, but the pitcher disconcerted by Percy’s feat, gave me my base on balls. At the next ball I ran down to second, the catcher not daring to throw it down for fear of letting Percy in home. Holland, who was at the bat, noticed that the pitcher was unsettled, and coolly waited for two strikes to be called. The pitcher continued to throw wild, and, as a result, Holland was given his base on balls.
This left us with a runner on each base, and only one man out. Ray Wendell then came to the bat and looked calmly at the situation.
“Now, Ray,” I said to myself, “you tolduswhat to do. Now show ushow. Practice what you’ve preached, my boy, and the day is saved.”
Ray planted himself firmly, and waited for a good ball. The pitcher, knowing well that if he gave Rayalso his base on balls, it would force us all around, and bring Percy home, was careful to put the ball straight over the plate.
“One strike,” called the umpire.
The pitcher hurled another ball almost exactly in the same spot.
“Hit it! Hit it!” I exclaimed in a whisper.
Ray’s bat flashed in the air.Crack! came a report that sounded over the whole field.The ball shot over my head like lightning, about ten feet above the ground, landing safely between left and center field, and rolled on—on—on, while the two fielders ran desperately after it, and Percy, I, Holland, and lastly, Ray himself, dashed around in home,making four runs in all.
We were wild with joy, the other fellows receiving us with open arms. The grand stand greeted the play with some applause, and, considering the loss it brought to their friends in the field, we appreciated greatly their generosity. Ray’s hit was a long and hard one, and he could almost have walked around before the fielders reached the ball.
“Go around again, Ray!” shouted Tony, entirely forgetting the dignity of his position as our scorer, in the delight of the moment.
We made no more runs that inning, the Halford men settling down bravely to steady playing as they found the bases clear again. The game was practically settled, however, for the score was now 6–3 in our favor.
Confidently we took the field for the ninth inning, and played a strong, sure game which resulted in our closing the Halford men out without a run. With evident signs of disappointment the large crowd dispersed, and we found ourselves a jolly set of victors. We gathered together and gave three cheers for the Halford men, which were responded to by a similar compliment from their nine, and then hurried to our carriages. Laughing, shouting, and joking, we scrambled in.
“There!” cried Percy, as he tumbled in a heap over me. “Who says we can’t play ball?”
The driver wheeled his team about and we were off for our hotel.
“And now, boys,” said Ray, his face glowing with excitement and pleasure—“Now for Park College, and the Crimson Banner!”