“Man, Daren!” Stogie cried as he waited for the center fielder to come running in. “Thought you had misjudged that one for sure.”
“I did!” said Daren, laughing.
This was it. The last of the sixth. The Mohawks’ last chance. Daren was first man up. Sam, Fuzzy and Stogie would follow. Fats drilled a strike down the heart of the plate, then another. Daren sent the third pitch out to center, where it was caught for out number one.
Coach Dirkus strode in front of the bench, clapping his hands. “Some life, men! Talk it up! Don’t sink into the dumps now!”
They talked it up. “Blast it outa the park, Sam! You did it before, do it again! He’s the same pitcher!”
Crack! A line drive over Fats Cornell’s head and Sam stood on first for a single, his second hit.
Fuzzy went the limit, three balls and two strikes, then struck out.
“Keep it alive, Stogie!” yelled a fan. “Blast it!”
Stogie waited for a good one. It came in. He cut hard and met the ball solidly. The hit was a clothesline drive over the third baseman’s head that went for a triple, scoring Sam.
“Are you going to pay Fats after the game, Stoge?” asked Jim, who was coaching third. “That was your fourth hit.”
“Pay, my eye.” Stogie grinned.
Bob walked. Beak socked a double, scoring Stogie. The ball game was tied up! The Mohawk bench jumped and yelled. The Mohawk fans went almost delirious. The winning run was on third. But the bottom of the batting order was up. The poorest hitters.
Tony waited out the pitches and got a walk! Fats, sweat glistening on his brow, drilled two pitches over the plate on Tom, and it looked as if the game would go into an extra inning. Then, crack! A blow over second! Bob scored! It was over! The Mohawks had done the impossible. They had come from far behind and won, 8 to 7.
13
YOU CAME just in time, Sam!” cried Stogie. “If it weren’t for you we would’ve lost for sure!”
Sam was grinning. “You did okay yourself! Four hits! Oh, man!”
After the shouting died down and the crowd was moving out of the park, Stogie motioned to Sam. “Come here, Sam. I told you I had something to tell you about your old glove.”
Stogie was with his mother and father and Jill. They all congratulated Sam on his playing. Beak came running up, too.
“What do you have to tell me?” asked Sam, his eyes flitting from one face to another.
Stogie’s eyes were dancing. “Beak and I, we know what it was that ruined your glove. And it wasn’t me, Sam. I kept telling you it wasn’t.”
Sam blinked his eyes. He moved his gloved hand behind him. “Who do you think ruined my glove, Stogie?”
“A porcupine.”
“Porcupine?” Sam’s brows knitted.
“Yes. Beak and I saw one the other night while we were camping out in his backyard. We heard a noise, something gnawing on wood, so we crawled out of the tent and saw this animal chewing on Beak’s hatchet. The handle. It stayed long enough for us to see it and then took off as if its tail was on fire.”
A warm glow started over Sam’s face. “Porcupine, huh? Funny name, porcupine.”
“We’ll show you a picture of it sometime,” said Beak, smiling.
The glow seemed to fade. Was there still doubt in Sam’s mind? And then Stogie remembered that he hadn’t explained everything to Sam.
“Porcupines like salt,” he said. “They’ll chew up anything that has salt on it. Your glove did. And so did the handle of Beak’s hatchet. You’ve just got to see that hatchet, Sam. You won’t believe it.”
The glow returned, and Sam’s eyes brightened.
“I will believe it, Stogie,” he said seriously. “And I believe you. I really do. I just hope you are not mad at me anymore for stealing your position at shortstop.”
Stogie grinned. “I’m not, Sam. And I mean it, too.”
How many of these Matt Christopher sports classics have you read?
Baseball
Baseball Pals
Catcher with a Glass Arm
The Diamond Champs
The Fox Steals Home
The Kid Who Only Hit Homers
Look Who’s Playing First Base
Miracle at the Plate
No Arm in Left Field
Shortstop from Tokyo
The Year Mom Won the Pennant
Basketball
Johnny Long Legs
Long Shot for Paul
Dirt Bike Racing
Dirt Bike Racer
Dirt Bike Runaway
Football
Catch That Pass!
The Counterfeit Tackle
Football Fugitive
Tight End
Touchdown for Tommy
Tough to Tackle
Ice Hockey
Face-Off
Ice Magic
Soccer
Soccer Halfback
Track
Run, Billy, Run
All available in paperback from Little, Brown and Company
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Matt Christopher Fan Club
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Shortstop from Tokyo
Stogie Crane wants to play shortstop for the Mohawks, but a new boy from Japan is assigned to the position. Stogie tries not to become resentful of Sam Suzuki, but he can’t help it. When Sam’s glove is found ruined if in Stogie’s yard, it looks as though they will never be friends. This story of boys working out their differences on and off the field will satisfy young competitive-sport fans.
Matt Christopher is the writer young readers turn to when they’re looking for fast-paced, action-packed sports novels. A resident of South Carolina, he is the author of many books, among them The Kid Who Only Hit Homers. For a listing of all his titles and information on joining the Matt Christopher Fan Club, turn to the last page of this book.
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