CHAPTER XVIII
As it was Baxter's turn to play the first of the championship games at Landon, when the day arrived it was none too sanguine a band of students that accompanied the nine.
The Landon team was composed of unusually hard hitters, and the fact that they were to play on their home grounds gave them an advantage that only Bronson's ability to puzzle the batsmen could overcome.
Indeed, Baxter practically conceded the first game to their rivals, pinning their hope for the championship to the return game at Baxter, and to the third game, which the headmasters of the two schools had agreed should be played on neutral ground in the town of Winthrop.
When the Baxter contingent, with banners flying, descended from the train at Landon, they found the entire school and many of the ball-loving townspeople on hand. And but one desire did they have—to get a glimpse of Baxter's pitching find.
Early in the season word of Bronson's record at the Military Academy had been received at Landon, and several of the nine had gone to their rival's town to see him work in practice games.
But the alert Hal had foiled their attempts to get a line on Bronson by sending Holcomb or Sandow to the box, with the result that the new pitcher was still a mystery.
That this policy of secrecy had caused the Landon students worry and had made the members of their nine nervous, was evidenced by the questions they asked about Bronson's delivery.
But when the supporters of Baxter arrived on the diamond, they soon discovered that their rivals did not intend to let any chance to win go by.
As the teams trotted on to the field and spread out for warming-up practice, the Landon rooters cheered lustily, and then, at a signal from their cheer leader, producing tin horns from under their coats, raised a tumult of strident discords.
Taken by surprise, the Baxter contingent was silent a minute, then roared out their school yell defiantly.
But the human throats were no match for the tin ones, and, though the Baxter students cheered loyally, the horns drowned them.
During this demonstration, Hal, Sandow, the headmaster, the instructors, those of the alumni who were allowed on the diamond, and the rest of the Baxter team and substitutes, and the entire squad of Landon players, watched Bronson intently to see whether or not he showed any signs of nervousness.
But the tall, awkward boy was the least excited of them all.
With a grin on his face, he stared at the Landon side of the field, and then turned toward Hal.
"They seem to be after my scalp," he chuckled.
"And we'll get it, too!" shouted several of Landon's alumni who were close at hand, looking Bronson over.
"I don't see any one who looks like an Indian on your nine," he retorted good-naturedly, while the Baxter alumni slapped one another on the back, assuming each "the kid would do." For they, and the Landon grads as well, realized that if Bronson did not allow the taunts that would be hurled at him to arouse his anger, he would be less likely to get rattled.
Among the Baxter alumni who had been looking Bronson over was Jack Hastings, who had pitched his nine to one victory the year before.
"I suppose Hal has told you what kind of balls the Landon veterans like," he said, approaching the boy.
"Yes, I think I know all I can without actually facing them," Bronson replied.
"Good. If you'll take my advice, though, you'll make the third and fourth men up hit pop flies—they're the hardest batters on the team."
"I always try to strike out the first men who face me—it rather takes the life out of the team," replied the pitcher quietly.
The matter-of-fact way in which Bronson spoke delighted his hearers. But Hal put an end to further remarks by ordering his find to warm up.
Instead of letting himself out, Bronson only used enough speed to limber his arm, and when he declared he was ready, Hal met the Landon captain to toss the coin for choice of innings.
Luck smiled on Baxter, and Hal chose the field, thus assuring his team the last chance at bat.
When the result of the toss was made known, the Baxter contingent cheered wildly. Landon tooted its horns in defiance, but when the visiting nine took their positions, there was a momentary lull.
Taking plenty of time, Bronson watched Gregory for a signal, but when it came for an inshoot, he shook his head. Twice more he refused to pitch the balls his catcher called for, and gave the signal for his in-jump.
"Get an alarm-clock to wake that pitcher up," shouted a Landon man through a megaphone.
But before the echo had died away, Bronson had sent the ball speeding toward the plate.
With a grin, the batter struck at it—and missed.
"Strike one!" bellowed the umpire, while Baxter cheered.
Again Bronson pitched.
This time the batsman decided to see what sort of a ball was being thrown at him, and as he saw it jump, he chuckled.
"I can eat those," he called to his teammates.
But the "strike tuh!" of the umpire banished the smile from his face as he realized that a pitcher who had such control he could jump the ball across the plate was one with whom to reckon.
Again Bronson refused Gregory's signals, indicating he would send another jump.
In breathless silence, the spectators watched.
Bronson pitched, the batter swung, and the umpire shouted "Strike three!"
Wildly the Baxter contingent cheered, for the man struck out had been Mitchell, the Landon captain. And in the home section there was corresponding gloom.
Nervously, the second batter approached the plate, and Bronson, taking advantage of it, sent three out-shoots that, apparently travelling straight for the man at bat, caused him to step back, then broke beautifully and cut the plate.
Six balls pitched, and not a semblance of a hit, with the surest batters down, gave the Landon captain a scare, and he ran to where his schoolmates sat.
"For the love of Landon, get busy with those horns!" he shouted.
Valiantly the boys and girls responded. But in vain.
Bronson served the third man up a straight, swift ball, a drop, and an in-jump, and the side was retired.
"Bronson! Bronson! Bronson!" chanted the Baxter contingent in appreciation, until Hal waved for silence.
But Mitchell, who pitched for Landon, while not in his rival's class, was a brainy player, and retired his opponents without a run, though Sandow got as far as second on a hit through shortstop and a sacrifice by Fred.
The next six innings passed without a score, though several scratch hits were made off both pitchers.
In the first half of the seventh, however, in accordance with instructions from Hal, Bronson eased up, and Landon made a single and a double, getting a man on first and third, while the batter had one strike and three balls and Mitchell was on deck.
Realizing that now was the time for their nine to score, if ever, the Landon students howled and tooted their horns madly, striving their utmost to rattle Bronson.
"Steady, Clothespin, and show 'em what you can do," encouraged Fred. "Give him three in-shoots. He'll never hit at one with three balls on you."
"Guess you're right," replied Bronson.
And to the relief of Baxter, the boy struck out the batter.
The man on first, however, had gone to second on the first ball pitched, but with the man on third Gregory had not attempted to throw him out.
Consequently, Bronson was still in a hole when Mitchell stepped to the plate, a look of confidence on his face.
In his endeavor to rattle the battery, the man on second was taking a long lead, hoping to draw a throw from Gregory, thus allowing his mate on third to score.
But in this crisis, Fred and Bronson showed the result of their secret practice.
As the latter made ready to pitch, Fred coughed.
Already Bronson's arm was taking its swing, but instead of sending the ball to the plate, he turned completely around and shot the ball to Fred.