He might as well have a little fun, he thought.
“Oh, no, he isn’t,” a voice spoke up beside him. “And you know it!”
T.V. straightened as if someone had jabbed a rod against his back. And you know it. That voice! Why hadn’t he recognized it before? He had heard it not only here in the dugout, but also on the phone.
He turned and stared into Mickey Stanner’s eyes. “You!” he cried. “You’re the one who’s been calling me!”
Mickey’s face turned red as a beet. “No! Not me. I…” He faltered and stared down at the scorebook in his hand. “Why not?” he admitted finally. “I’m just a scorekeeper. Nobody pays any attention to me, except when they want to know who bats next. Or how many hits somebody got.”
“But why did you pick on me?” T.V. asked. “I thought we were friends.”
“Some friend,” Mickey whined. “You don’t even care that I’m moving. All you care about is your dumb spying!”
Crack!
T.V. turned in time to see Zero powder the ball out to deep right field! It was going … going … and it went over the fence for a three-run homer!
The fans went wild.
So did T.V. He couldn’t believe it.
The whole Peach Street Mudders team spilled out of the dugout and greeted Zero with high fives as he crossed the plate.
It was over. Bearcats 6, Peach Street Mudders 7.
T.V. looked for Mickey in the confusion. He finally found him, standing by himself.
“Hey, I’m sorry if I ignored you, Mickey. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”
Mickey looked down, embarrassed. “I’m sorry about the calls, too.”
“Just promise me you won’t pull anything like that in your new town. Okay?” T.V. said.
“I promise!” Mickey cried. Then they shook on it.
T.V. saw two familiar faces approaching him, and he ran forward to greet them.
“T.V., did I hear you predict Zero’s grand-slammer?” the man in the red sweatshirt asked.
T.V. laughed. “I was just kidding. Then he fooled me!”
The man said, “I’m Mel Thompson. I’m the one who wrote that article about you.”
T.V.’s mouth dropped open. So this was the guy who had caused him so much trouble!
“And I’m James Boles,” the kid with the glasses said.
“Glad to meet both of you,” T.V. said. Then he turned to the boy. He felt guilty about suspecting him earlier. “James, you come to all the games. How’d you like to be the Peach Street Mudders’ official scorekeeper?”
James Boles’ eyes bulged behind his thick lenses. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“Wow! Sure!” James cried. Then he frowned. “But you have a scorekeeper.”
“Not for long,” T.V. said.
“Are you predicting this, or are you sure about it?” Mel Thompson asked, grinning.
T.V. grinned back. “I’m one hundred percent sure about it!” he said.
Does T.V. have psychic powers?
Third baseman T.V. Adams has a knack for predicting almost exactly where a batter will hit a ball. His talent often comes in handy, but it also causes a lot of trouble. After a local reporter calls TV. a psychic, TV. receives a phone call, threatening him if he uses his “powers” in his next game. Will TV. give in to the caller’s threats, or “spy” to help his team?
“…fans can easily visualize the snappy play-by-play action.…”
—ALA Booklist
Matt Christopher is the best-selling author of more than thirty sports novels for young readers, including The Hit-Away Kid. He lives in Rock Hill, South Carolina.
The Spy on Third Base Page 3
