by Anonymous
CHAPTER XIII.
READY FOR THE GREAT GAME.
"WHAT'S the matter with this for a corker?"
Lil Artha, the long-legged first baseman of the Hickory Ridge nine, putthis question to his mates as the big carry-all containing the team,with several substitutes, came in view of the fine field at BaskingRidge on the afternoon when the great game was to be decided.
No one tried to answer.
The reason was plain, for they were utterly overwhelmed by the magnitudeof the immense crowd that had assembled to see the anticipated spiritedcontest between the rival teams of Boy Scouts.
In every direction were great masses of people, all decked out in theirholiday attire. Girls in white and every color of the rainbow wavedparasols, gay handkerchiefs, and little flags on which the name of theirfavorite team had been emblazoned.
"Why," gasped Ted, when he could catch his breath, which had beenactually snatched away from him by his amazement, "there must be athousand of them here!"
"Better say millions and be done with it," laughed Red, eager for thefray.
"The whole county has turned out to do us honor, it seems," remarkedMatty.
"And because of that, fellows," put in Elmer, "every Hickory Ridge scoutought to shut his teeth hard and make up his mind to win out; never togive up; and if he makes an error, do something right afterward to atonefor it."
"Right you are, my boy," remarked Mr. Garrabrant, the efficient scoutmaster, who fortunately was enabled to accompany the boys on this trip."I was just going to say something along those same lines myself whenyou took the words out of my mouth. Hickory Ridge is watching youto-day, fellows; and Hickory Ridge expects every one of her sons to dohis duty. Nobody can do more."
"Well, here we are, safe and sound," remarked Ty, as the vehicles cameto a stop in the midst of the tremendous throng.
"Wow! listen to that, would you?" said Toby, as cheers started thatseemed to rock the very earth.
The team from Fairfield had arrived some time before. They were busilyengaged in building up their batting abilities by sending out hot onesthat a number of local baseball enthusiasts caught in the field.
"Say, they're a lot of hustlers, now, let me tell you," declared Red, ashe stood for a minute watching the actions of the others.
"Oh, they're big enough," remarked Lil Artha, indifferently; "but sincewhen did size count for everything in baseball? You'll see the smallestfellow step up and knock out a homer, where a big stiff like me swingsat three wide ones and sits down on the mourners' bench."
"Like anything you will," said Red, disdainfully.
"The pitcher who strikes you out has got to get up early in the morning,that's what"; since the gaunt first baseman was noted for his keenbatting eye and could pick out a "good one" as well as any in thebusiness.
"Come on, fellows, let's get busy," called Elmer, as he passed a ball toone of the others, and in almost a twinkling the whole bunch wastossing back and forth, gradually widening out.
Then a few of them fraternized with their opponents, as they happened toknow most of the Fairfield fellows, and in this way a number of Elmer'steam found a chance to take a turn at bat.
It was a sight that would not soon be forgotten in Basking Ridge. Theycertainly did have a splendid field for the sport; and the grand standwas a little gem in its way, but on such an occasion it did not begin tohold one fifth of the spectators who would have been glad of a chance touse it.
"Ground rules to-day, that's sure, Elmer," remarked the field captain ofthe Hickory Ridge team, as he stood alongside the pitcher, receiving theball at intervals and returning it.
"That goes, without a doubt," replied Elmer, as he surveyed the mass ofpeople packed around the diamond and the field. "And if I were you, I'dlook up Matt Tubbs right away, so as to have that matter settled."
"Sure," said Lil Artha. "And I reckon that a hit into the crowd willstand for two bases and no more."
"As near as I can see, there's only _one place_ anybody can hit to-dayfor a homer," declared Elmer, again surveying the field.
"Tell me where that is," remarked Lil Artha, "because I want to know. Asfield captain, it's my business to know; and as an humble batter, Imight want to look that way before the game grows cold."
"You'll notice that none of the crowd seem to want to pack upon theright of the center field," Elmer went on in a low tone. "If a battercould send one out there like hot shot, that managed to escape thefielder, it would never stop on that little down grade till he'd madethe rounds."
"Aw, thanks!" replied Lil Artha, dryly. "I'm sorry that my specialtyhappens to lie off there in left; but I'm going to twist around a littleand keep that down grade in mind. Perhaps, who knows?" and he winked atElmer in his comical way as he hurried off to confer with Matt Tubbs.
Home Run Joe Mallon, the professional ball player who was home atBasking Ridge nursing a broken arm, was on the spot, ready to serve asumpire. He had been well known in this capacity before he broke into thebig league, and people used to say that he seldom erred in hisdecisions. They called him "Honest Joe" at the time he umpired, and fewever disputed his decisions. He might make a slight slip, but everyoneknew he decided plays just as he saw them and the rabble of thebleachers never had any weight with him.
Elmer and Mark found a chance to get together and confer where theycould speak their minds without others hearing.
Later on they expected to warm up for business, but it was too soon, asyet. After the rest of the team had started in on their fifteen minutesof practice it would be time enough for Elmer to try out a few of hiscurves and drops.
"I had Jasper Merriweather show me the fellow," Elmer remarked.
"Meaning our slick friend, Lon Braddock?" questioned the catcher.
"Yes. That's Lon talking to Henry Cobb, who plays third base for theFairfield nine. And Mark, between you and me, I don't just like his faceor manner."
"Same here, Elmer," declared the other quickly.
"He's got a tricky way about him, and I warrant you that fellow is goingto give Matt Tubbs more trouble than all the rest of his team combined.Look at him chuckling now. Ten to one he's telling Cobb how he's got theInjun sign on our signals, and what great stunts the Fairfield battersare going to do with your curves and slants."
"Well, you know the old saying to the effect that the fellow laughshardest who laughs last; and Mark, believe me, we're going to have thatprivilege. But I hope you won't give it away by jeering the unluckybatter when he nearly kills the air swiping at one that is away beyondthe end of his stick."
"I'll try and keep a straight face, Elmer," chuckled Mark. "Got a pieceof alum in my pocket right now, and before the game begins I mean to rubit over the side of my mouth, so as not to be able to crack a smile.There go our boys out in the field for practice."
"Well, perhaps we'd better get a move on, then, and pass a few, thoughafter our morning work I don't feel much in need of it, Mark."
As Fairfield had already taken the field, and there was now only fifteenminutes left before game would be called, the battery of the rival teamwas also hard at work when Elmer and Mark started in.
Of course, neither pitcher tried his best in that preliminary bout. Welldid they know that eager eyes were watching them for points connectedwith their delivery, and that these would be quickly seized upon for anadvantage. Hence they contented themselves, as a rule, in sending inswift, straight balls simply to warm up.
Hickory Ridge had batted against Matt Tubbs for several seasons, and yetnever had a game been actually finished. Up to the present they hadalways broken up in a beautiful row, in which both sides claimedvictory.
Elmer had pitched part of a game the preceding summer. At the time hehad proven so much of a mystery to his opponents that, seeingprospective defeat staring his team in the face, Matt Tubbs had foundsome pretext for disputing a decision of the umpire to end the battle.
But since that time the Fairfield team had been greatly strengthened,and in all their games t
hus far this season they had beaten theiropponents easily.
On a neutral field, with a firm umpire directing matters and with allthe participants members of the Boy Scouts, it was believed that foronce a game between these old rivals might be threshed out to aconclusion.
Many shook their heads, remembering the Matt Tubbs of old andprophesying all manner of evil things that might spring from thisbitterly contested game. Others, who knew something of the principlesgoverning true scouts, tried to take heart of hope and believe thatthere must have been a great awakening in the former bully. But eventhey admitted that "the proof of the pudding lay in the eating of it,"and that they would be better satisfied when the end came without ariotous demonstration on the part of Fairfield and Cramertown.
The Hickory Ridge boys seemed to acquit themselves very well inpractice. Numerous dazzling pick-ups were made by the infield thatbrought out roars of applause from the big crowd; while those tendingthe outer gardens had to make rapid speed and do some air-jumping inorder to drag down the flies that were sent out in their direction.
Having seen both teams at work, the crowd hardly knew which looked thebetter. And, as in most cases, it ended in a strictly partisan division,each town standing loyally by its athletes, with Basking Ridge aboutequally divided.
Finally the Hickory Ridge fellows were called in from the field. Thetime for practice had expired, and presently, when a few little detailswere gone through with, real business would begin.
The two teams lined up for the fray in this order:
HICKORY RIDGE SCOUTS.
Ted Burgoyne Third Base Toby Jones Right Lil Artha First Base Chatz Maxfield Left Red Huggins Short Stop Ty Collins Center Matty Eggleston Second Base Elmer Chenowith Pitcher Mark Cummings Catcher
FAIRFIELD SCOUTS.
Felix Wagner Second Base Adrian Cook Left John Bastian Right Henry Cobb Third Base Christy Poole First Base Angus McDowd Center John Mulligan Short Stop Tom Ballinger Catcher Matt Tubbs Pitcher
There was a wave of talk passing over the throng as the two captainsconferred. It was understood that they were deciding finally on theground rules that must prevail, on account of the mass of spectatorspushing in on the lines. All Basking Ridge's local police force was onthe spot, but half a dozen good-natured officers are next to uselesswhen up against thousands; in contests of this sort dependence must beplaced on the spirit of fair play that is generally a part of baseballcrowds, especially in smaller towns, where the players are known.
"The game is called; now for it!" yelled the nearest spectators, as theysaw the umpire pick up his mask and step forward to announce thebatteries, while the Hickory Ridge players started for their positions.
"And we have the last look-in, as we take the field first!" howled anenthusiastic follower of the team that looked to Elmer as the keystoneof their arch.
