CHAPTER VI
THE BULLY SNEERS
"Well, you ought to get out a patent on this," remarked Joe, when theyresumed the eating of the pie and the drinking of the pop, following thewithdrawal of the professor.
"You sure had," agreed Tom. "Let Joe give you some points. His fatherhas taken out several patents."
"Oh, I guess we'll make it free for all--any fellow is welcome to theidea," replied Teeter. "So your dad's an inventor, eh, Matson?"
"Yes, harvester machinery--his latest was a corn reaper and binder, andhe nearly lost it," and Joe briefly told how Isaac Benjamin and RufusHoldney had nearly ruined his father, as related in detail in "BaseballJoe of the Silver Stars."
"Ever hear anything more of those fellows?" asked Tom, following therecital of the schemes of the plotters.
"No, they seem to have disappeared," answered Joe. "They cleared outafter dad won his case in the courts. But he's on the watch for them,he told me. His business isn't all settled yet, and there is somedanger. But I guess Benjamin or Holdney won't bother him, though someother rascals may."
"Anything more to eat?" asked Peaches, during the pause that followed.
"Say, what are you, a human refrigerator?" demanded Teeter. "I couldn'tcarry any more pie if I tried."
"It'll be our treat next time," observed Joe. "Why didn't George Blandcome with you?"
"Had to bone on trigonometry, I guess," replied Peaches.
"Does he play on the team?" Joe wanted to know.
"Yes, we all do. George is short, I'm on third, and Teeter holds downfirst sometimes. But you never can tell what Hiram is going to do. Heand Luke are always making shifts, and that's what lost us the BlueBanner last season. The fellows would no more than get familiar withtheir positions than Hiram would shift 'em. Oh, he runs things to suithimself."
The hour of ten boomed out from the big school clock and the visitorsleft.
"Spring fever!" exclaimed Joe one day, as he and Tom came from a physicslecture.
"Yes, I've got it, too," admitted Tom. "It's in the air, and I'm gladof it. What's that Shakespeare says about 'now is the winter of ourdiscontent?'"
"Oh, cheese it! Don't begin spouting poetry. Besides I'm not sure itwas Shakespeare, and I don't give a hang. All I know is that Spring iscoming, and soon they'll begin getting the diamond in shape."
"Precious lot of good that will do you--or me, either. Hiram is as downon me as he is on you."
"I know it, and I was going to speak of that, Tom. There's no use inyour losing a chance to play on the nine just because I'm on the outs.Why don't you cut loose from me? You can get another room, and maybe ifyou do----"
"Hold on!" cried Tom quickly. "Do you want me to go, old man?" and helooked sharply at Joe.
"Nonsense! Of course you know I don't."
"Then drop that kind of talk, unless you want a fight on your hands. Youand I stick together, Hiram Shell or no Hiram Shell--and Luke Fodick."
"Well, I didn't know," spoke Joe softly.
"Here, come on; let's have a catch," proposed Tom. "I've got an old ballthat we used in one of the Star games. Get over there and sting some into me. Wait until I get my glove on," and he adjusted his mitt.
"Jove! This is like old times!" exclaimed Joe, as he lovingly fingeredthe horsehide--dirty and stained as it was from many a clouting anddrive into the tall grass and daisies. "I wish we could go and see agame, even if we couldn't play."
"Same here," came from Tom, as he crouched to receive the ball his chumwas about to deliver. Joe wound up and sent in a "hot" one. It landedsquarely in Tom's glove for the first-baseman (a position he sometimeshad played on the Stars) was not a half bad catcher.
"How was that?" asked Joe.
"Pretty good. Not quite over the plate, but you can get 'em there. Let'em come about so," and Tom indicated a stone that would serve for home.
"Watch this," requested Joe as he wound up again and let drive.
"A beaut!" cried Tom. "Give me some more that way, and you'll have theman out."
"Say, what are you fellows doing?" demanded a voice, and the two chumslooked up to see Hiram Shell gazing at them with mingled expressions onhis fleshy face.
"Oh, having a little practice," replied Joe easily. The feeling betweenhimself and the bully had nearly worn off, and they were on speaking, ifnot on friendly terms.
"Practice for what?" demanded Hiram.
"Well, the baseball season opens pretty soon," went on Joe, "and Tom andI sort of felt the fever in our veins to-day. Want to have a catch?"
"No," half snarled Hiram. "Say, did you fellows play ball before youcame here?" he demanded.
"Sure," put in Tom. "Joe was one of the best pitchers on the SilverStars."
"The Silver Stars? Never heard of 'em!" sneered Hiram.
"Oh, it was only an amateur nine," Joe admitted modestly. "Tom here wasfirst baseman, and we had some good country games."
"Huh! Maybe you came _here_ to play baseball!" suggested Hiram with aleer. "Seems to me I heard that you had some such notion."
"Well, I have," asserted Joe confidently. "I like the game, and I'd givea good deal to get on the nine. So would Tom, I guess."
"First base is filled," snapped Hiram.
"How about pitcher," asked Tom eagerly, anxious to put in a good wordfor his chum. "I hear you need a new pitcher."
"Oh, you did; eh?" exclaimed the bully with an unpleasant laugh. "Well,you've got another 'hear' coming. Besides, if there wasn't anotherpitcher in the country, you wouldn't get a chance, Matson!"
"No?" queried Joe easily.
"No, and a dozen times no! What, you pitch? Say, you may have been allright on a sand-lots team, but there's some class to Excelsior Hall. Wedon't want any dubs on our nine. You think you might pitch on _my_ team?I guess nixy! We want some fellow who can deliver the goods."
"Joe can!" exclaimed Tom eagerly.
"Aw, forget it!" sneered Hiram. "Why, you'd be knocked out of the boxfirst inning with some of the teams we play. You pitch! Ha! Ha! That'spretty rich. I'll have to tell the fellows about this!"
"I didn't ask you to let me pitch," said Joe quietly though an angryspot burned in either cheek.
"No, and you'd better not!" snapped Hiram. "You pitch! Ha! Ha! It makesme laugh," and with a sneering look at Joe the bully strode off,chuckling unpleasantly.
Baseball Joe on the School Nine; or, Pitching for the Blue Banner Page 6
