Rampage of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

“Ha! That’s Smoke all right,” Cal said. “The bossin’ part, I mean.”

  “Well, tell me just who we are goin’ to play with this baseball team?” Pearlie asked.

  “The St. Louis Unions.”

  “The what?”

  “The St. Louis Unions,” Jules repeated. “They are a professional baseball team and they go around playing local teams. If you beat them, they’ll give you two hundred dollars.”

  “Two hundred dollars? That’s a lot of money,” LeRoy said.

  “Yeah, that would be twenty dollars apiece,” Dooley added.

  “You can forget that,” Pearlie said.

  “What do you mean, we can forget it?” Jules asked. “It would be good to leave twenty dollars with my mom before we started on this trail drive.”

  “You can forget it, because we ain’t likely to win.”

  “Well, come on, don’t give up before we even try,” Jules said.

  “Didn’t you say this St. Louis Unions was a bunch of professional baseball players?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that means that they play baseball all the time. I prob’ly ain’t played more’n two or three times in my entire life.”

  “Me’n Dooley have played a lot,” Andy said. “We used to have baseball games out at the fort.”

  “Yeah, and Andy’s real good at it,” Dooley said.

  “I’ve played a lot too,” Jules said. “Come on, we can at least try.”

  “Jules, you’re young so I don’t hold it against you none that you ain’t really got no sense,” Pearlie said. “But this whole idea of playing a baseball game against a bunch of people who make a living playing baseball is a…”

  “Great idea,” Sally said, finishing Pearlie’s sentence.

  “What?” several of the others replied at the same time.

  “I think Jules has a great idea,” Sally said. “I think you should play a baseball game against these people.”

  “Sally, I tend to agree with Pearlie,” Smoke said. “Why humiliate ourselves before our neighbors against a bunch of professionals?”

  “We’re going to be working together for the next several weeks, right?” Sally asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then what better way to learn to work together than to play a baseball game now? I think it will create a sense of cooperation and belonging.”

  “Even if we lose?” Cal asked.

  “Yes, even if you lose,” Sally said. “Win or lose, if you all play together, you are going to come out ahead. Go on, Smoke, sign them up to play a game.”

  Smoke chuckled and shook his head. “All right,” he said, “I’ll challenge the—what are they called?”

  “The St. Louis Unions,” Jules said.

  “I’ll challenge the St. Louis Unions. But if we are humiliated, it’s on your shoulders.”

  “I can take it,” Sally said.

  As Smoke, Sally, and the contingent from Sugarloaf rode into town, they passed under a banner that was stretched across the street, tied up on one side at Andersons’s Apothecary and on the other at Miller’s Meat Market. In big red letters the sign read:

  WELCOME TO COUNTY FAIR

  A series of exploding firecrackers made Billy’s horse rear up, but Billy got it under control very quickly. The young boys who had set off the firecrackers laughed as they ran up the street.

  Several vendors had set up booths in the street and were selling such things as taffy, roasted peanuts, fudge, and slices of pie. The city band, resplendent in their red and black uniforms, was seated on a temporary stage, playing a rousing march.

  “Look, over there,” Jules said, pointing to an open field. There, several men wearing identical straw hats, white shirts, and matching trousers were throwing a ball back and forth.

  “Why are they all dressed alike?” Cal asked.

  “They are in their uniforms,” Jules answered.

  “Uniforms? You mean like the suits the soldiers wear?”

  “Sort of like that,” Jules said. “They all wear the same uniform so you can tell who is on your side.”

  “Well, now, that don’t make no sense a’tall,” LeRoy said. “I mean, all you got to do is look at who the person is.”

  “It’s probably for a little intimidation as well,” Sally suggested.

  “What does that mean?” Cal asked.

  “It’s just a way of giving them an edge,” Sally explained.

  “I see. Well, it ain’t workin’, whatever it’s supposed to be doin’,” Cal said.

  “Shall we go over there and challenge them?” Smoke asked.

  “Yeah,” Pearlie said. “Let’s do it.”

  “Really? You were one of the ones who thought it was such a crazy idea,” Jules said.

  “Yeah, but that was before I saw what a bunch of sissies these guys are. I think we won’t have any trouble with them.”

  Smoke cut his horse over toward the field where the uniformed baseball players were throwing the ball around. Half-a-dozen kids were sitting on the top of a split-rail fence, watching the players.

  “Who’s in charge here?” Smoke called when he rode up.

  At Smoke’s call, one of the players threw a ball to another, put his glove in his back pocket, expectorated a wad of chewing tobacco, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then came over to talk to Smoke.

  “I’m in charge here,” he said. “What do you need?”

  “Is it true that you will give two hundred dollars to any team that can beat you?” Smoke asked.

  “Well, to a degree, that is true,” the player said.

  “What isn’t true?”

  “We don’t just give the money away. You have to enter the contest. And enterin’ the contest is goin’ to cost you money.”

  “How much?”

  “Fifty dollars.”

  “Fifty dollars?” Jules groaned. “Why does it cost fifty dollars?”

  “Where do you think we get the money to pay those who beat us?” the player asked.

  “Does anyone ever actually beat you?” Smoke asked.

  “Not very often,” the ballplayer admitted.

  “When can we play?” Smoke asked.

  “As soon as we get the fifty dollars.”

  “Smoke, I’m sorry,” Jules said. “I didn’t have no idea it was going to cost money to play.”

  “That’s all right,” Smoke said, taking out the money and giving it to the ballplayer. “Here’s your money, mister,” he said. “Let’s play.”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Big Rock

  Word spread quickly around town that there would be a baseball match between the professional players who called themselves the St. Louis Unions and an aggregate of players from in and around Big Rock. As a result, nearly all the town gathered to watch the game.

  Baseball was not unknown in Big Rock. There had been games contested between men from Big Rock and teams from nearby towns. But this was the first time that a touring professional team had ever come to town, so interest was high.

  “Do you think our boys have a chance of winning?” someone asked.

  “Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” another answered. “But that won’t keep me from cheering them on.”

  “No, me neither. I’d like to see those St. Louis boys get their comeuppance.”

  The Unions, dressed in their white uniforms, were on the field giving a display of their skills by batting the ball, scooping it up from the ground, and throwing it sharply from base to base. After several minutes of such activity, the manager of the St. Louis Unions walked across the field to speak with Smoke.

  “The game will commence in thirty minutes, and we will play by the Cartwright Rules,” he said. He handed Smoke a booklet. “If you don’t know the rules, they are in this book. Three strikes and you are out. Three outs and the other team comes to bat. When each team has made three outs, that will be an inning. We will play nine innings, unless the game is tied. Then we will continue to play
until the tie is broken.”

  “We know the rules, mister,” Pearlie said.

  “Pearlie, Mr. Thayer is just extending a courtesy,” Smoke said.

  “I think he’s trying to—to intimidate us,” Pearlie said, recalling Sally’s word. “But it ain’t goin’ to work, mister. It ain’t goin’ to work.”

  “I will tell my players to go easy on you,” Thayer said as he turned to walk away.”

  “Oh, I’d love for us to give his team a good beating,” Pearlie said.

  “I wonder where Miss Sally is,” Cal said. “I thought she would be here to watch us play.”

  “Maybe she don’t want to see us lose,” Mike said.

  “Lose? We haven’t played the first pitch yet and you are already talking about losing. Now, that’s a fine way to look at it, don’t you think?” Jules asked.

  “Well, come on, Jules, look at them people. They got them fancy clothes they’re a’wearin’. They got them fancy gloves.”

  “They’ve provided us with gloves,” Jules said.

  “Yeah, but they’re nothin’ like them fancy gloves they all got.”

  “Here comes Sally now,” Smoke said. “I wonder what she’s carrying.”

  Sally was carrying a bundle and as she approached them, she smiled broadly, then put the bundle down on a bench.

  “What have you got there?” Smoke asked.

  “Open it,” Sally said. “The St. Louis Unions aren’t the only ones with uniforms.”

  “You bought us uniforms?” Jules asked excitedly.

  “I bought all of you matching red shirts,” Sally said. “That, with your blue denim trousers, will make a uniform.”

  “Oh, yeah!” Jules said as he held up one of the shirts. “And these here is a lot better-lookin’ than them white pajama-lookin’ things those folks is wearin’.”

  Within minutes, every one of Smoke’s men was smartly outfitted with the new red shirt and the result was dramatic. They took on the same aura as the uniformed St. Louis Unions.

  Sheriff Carson agreed to be the umpire, and he walked out onto the ball field, leaned over to brush off the home plate, then stood up to bellow out as loud as he could:

  “Play ball!”

  They had played eight and a half innings of baseball and though the St. Louis Unions were leading, the score, at four to one, was much closer than anyone had thought possible. As it turned out, Jules was a very good baseball player, and Mike, Andy, and Leroy were also quite skilled. The others were good enough to keep the game from getting embarrassingly out of hand.

  Now, in the last half of the ninth inning, with none out, Billy was walked, giving them a man on base. Cal singled, but Billy was held at third. Hank popped up and the ball was caught by the Unions’ second baseman. LeRoy struck out, and that brought Jules to the plate.

  “Come on, Jules, a home run would tie the game!” Pearlie shouted.

  Jules nodded, then struck his bat against the plate a couple of times before looking at the pitcher.

  “Boy,” the catcher said from behind him. “I’ve been watching you. You’re a pretty good ballplayer. What are you doing with this bunch of yokels? Why don’t you leave them and come with us?”

  “You really think I’m good enough to play with you fellas?” Jules asked.

  “I sure do.”

  The pitcher fired the first ball to the plate. Jules swung, but missed.

  “That didn’t look all that good,” Jules said to the catcher.

  “Ah, don’t worry about it. Tommy is a very good pitcher. You’ve hit him three times today, and not even the best batter can hit him every time. That’s why if you strike out, nobody would ever suspect you did it on purpose.”

  “What do you mean, on purpose?” Jules asked.

  “Well, we divide up the gate from every game. If anyone beats us and we have to pay two hundred dollars, it comes out of our pocket. Your pocket, if you join us. So, why don’t you just strike out now and end this game? It’ll be better for all of us if you do.”

  Jules swung and missed at the second pitch.

  “Attaboy,” the catcher said. “Miss this pitch and you’ll be one of us.”

  Jules turned to look at the catcher.

  “Mister, if I strike out, it ain’t a’goin’ to be on purpose,” Jules said. “And I wouldn’t want to play with people like you anyway.”

  The catcher chuckled. “Have it your way, kid,” he said.

  Then he called to the pitcher. “Quit playin’ around with him, Tommy. Throw it past him!”

  “No batter, no batter, no batter,” the shortstop called.

  “Throw it by him, Tommy. Let’s collect our money and go have a few beers,” the first baseman called.

  The left fielder started whistling.

  Jules scraped at the ground with his feet and watched as the pitcher wound up, then threw. Jules swung the bat, and had the satisfying feeling of making contact with the ball on the sweet spot of the bat. The ball flew high over the left fielder’s head. Jules tossed the bat aside and started for first base.

  Billy came home and Cal rounded second, headed for third, rounded third, and streaked home. Jules was right behind Billy, rounding second as Billy started home. Jules saw the left fielder run for the ball, then pick it up just before Jules reached third. Jules rounded third and started for home as the crowd cheered for him.

  Then, to Jules’s surprise, the left fielder made a tremendous throw, and Jules saw the ball fly into the catcher’s mitt just before he reached home plate. Jules slid into home plate, but the catcher was waiting for him and he put the tag on him before he reached the plate.

  “You’re out!” the umpire called.

  The cheers turned to groans.

  “You should’ve took me up on my offer, boy,” the catcher said. “You wound up being out anyway, and now you got nothing to show for it.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got something to show for it,” Jules said and he stood up and wiped the dust from the seat of his pants. “I’ve got my honor.”

  The high, skirling sound of a fiddle could be heard from one end of the street to the other as the dancers dipped and whirled to the caller’s patter:

  “A right and left around the ring

  While the roosters crow and the birdies sing.

  All join hands and circle wide,

  Spread right out like an old cow hide.

  All jump up and never come down,

  Swing your pretty girl round and round.”

  The only ones who were not having a good time at the dance were the ballplayers of the St. Louis Unions. When they saw that the girls were more interested in the young men of Smoke’s baseball team, they began to get angry and they started taunting Smoke’s men.

  “Perhaps we should have lost the game. Then the girls would have taken pity on us, as they have these poor rubes,” one of the players suggested.

  “I think we should have played the girls,” another player said. “They would have given us a better game.”

  One insult led into another, until finally one of the Unions reached out and tripped Jules as he was dancing. When Jules fell, all the Unions laughed loudly.

  “What’s the matter, boy? Are you so clumsy that you can’t even keep your feet?” one of the players called out.

  “You tripped me!” Jules shouted, jumping up and confronting the one who had done it.

  The St. Louis player pushed Jules back, and another St. Louis player tripped him again.

  “My word, they are as clumsy on the dance floor as they are on the baseball diamond.”

  This time when Jules jumped up, he came up swinging, connecting with a right jab to the chin of the one who was tormenting him. The player went down, but another player attacked Jules.

  Within seconds, the rest of Smoke’s men joined in the action and the entire dance came to a halt as the young men from both camps traded blows. The fight continued in a grand scale with tables and chairs turning over, punch bowls being spilled, and men and women
shouting, some in alarm and some in encouragement.

  The fight lasted for several minutes until, eventually, Smoke, Sheriff Carson, and two of his deputies managed to break it up. As the fight finally came to an end, it became obvious that Smoke’s men had gotten much the better of the St. Louis Unions, all of whom were now nursing black eyes and bloody noses.

  As the cowboys rode back out to Sugarloaf that night, they were laughing and singing.

  “Well, they may have beaten us at baseball, but we sure gave ’em a licking where it counts,” Cal said.

  “We sure did,” LeRoy said.

  “You won on the baseball diamond as well,” Smoke said.

  “No, we lost, four to three,” Jules said.

  “Uh-huh,” Smoke said. “Only their manager bet me two hundred dollars that they would win by at least five runs.”

  “They only beat us by one run,” Jules said.

  “That’s right,” Smoke said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. “And that’s why we won two hundred dollars. You fellas can divide it up exactly as you would have had we won the game.”

  “Then I can leave my mom twenty dollars before we leave,” Jules said excitedly.

  “Forty dollars,” Pearlie said. “You can have my share.”

  “Sixty,” Cal offered.

  “I’d give you my money too, Jules, only I ain’t had no work in near two months now,” Billy said.

  “Me neither,” LeRoy echoed.

  “I thank you, but Ma don’t need no more money than this,” Jules said. “This’ll keep her till we get back.” He looked at Pearlie and Cal. “Thanks to you two,” he added.

  “Ah,” Pearlie said. “It wasn’t nothin’.”

  “You didn’t really make a bet with that baseball team, did you?” Sally asked that night as she lay in bed beside Smoke.

  “What makes you think I didn’t?”

  “Because I was with you all day, remember? You couldn’t have made such a bet without me knowing about it.”

  “Well, suppose I didn’t.”

  Sally laughed. “Nothing, except you are a wonderfully generous man, Kirby Jensen.”

  “So are Pearlie and Cal. They gave their money to Jules.”

  “I know. You have been a wonderful influence on them.”