never before had such a roaring crowd assembled on the maplewood ball field. special cars came rolling into town, loaded down with men and boys, who sprang off and went marching away toward the field. they were loud and boisterous in manner, and many of them announced repeatedly that they were there to see the home team win. that a great number of them were toughs could be seen at a glance.
when the game began, however, not all the spectators assembled on the field were of this tough class. the summer visitors of maplewood were on hand in an unusually large body, and even while practice was going on some of them complained to benton hammerswell that the language of the roughs present was offensive. they asked the maplewood manager if he could not do something to keep these offensive persons quiet.
“i am afraid it’s impossible,” he answered. “i didn’t expect such a crowd to-day or i would have had officers present. i am sorry if they are offensive in their conduct or talk, but i can’t repress them without assistance.”
in his heart he had no desire to repress them. jack cole had not spoken a falsehood when he told dick that through hammerswell the toughs had been gathered up and brought to the field.
no one seemed to observe cole until he was noticed batting the ball while the fairhaven team was practicing. then there were numerous expressions of surprise over the fact that jack was in a playing suit.
hammerswell observed him and walked swiftly over to the home team’s bench, on which sat chester arlington.
“what’s that fellow, cole, doing here?” inquired the maplewood manager.
“you tell me,” said chester sourly. “i don’t know.”
“he has a suit on.”
“my eyes are all right. i see he has.”
“what’s the matter with you? you’re crusty.”
“it’s my turn to pitch to-day,” said chester. “are you going to put me in?”
“sit still,” retorted hammerswell. “we have to win this game to-day, and i’m taking no chances. raymer is the best pitcher in this league, and he goes into the box.”
instantly chester rose, savagely flinging down the ball he had been holding while sitting.
“then i’m done!” he snarled. “this ends it for me! i quit you now, hammerswell, and i hope your old team is wiped off the map!”
“hold on!” commanded the manager sharply. “you’ve been paid in advance. you’ve received your salary for another week.”
“oh, forget it!” sneered arlington. “that’s all right! i’ll keep it!”
benton exposed his teeth beneath his small, dark mustache.
“you will cough it up if you quit,” he asserted.
arlington faced him unhesitatingly.
“don’t dream such a thing for a minute!” he snarled. “i’ll cough up nothing. instead of that, i may ask you to cough up a little. i know about some of the tricks arranged for this game. i know where certain balls are hidden in the outfield. do you want me to talk?”
“you’d better keep still,” answered hammerswell, in a whisper.
chet snapped his fingers.
“all right. then don’t talk to me about returning any money you’ve given me. i’m going up to the hotel to get into my other clothes. i will leave this suit outside your door, as i won’t want it any more this year.”
without another word, he turned his back on hammerswell and walked away.
just before the game began dick called his players around him and many of the spectators observed with surprise that jack cole was one of them. with dick in their midst, they pressed close, getting their heads together and listening to him.
“boys,” said merriwell, glancing from one to another, with his calm, dark eyes, “this is going to be a fierce old fight to-day. over there by first base you can see a lot of toughs who have been brought here to rattle us and who will do so if possible. just close your ears to howls and insults. don’t let them distract your attention from the game for a single moment. let’s go into this thing with the determination of winning out or leaving our carcasses right here on the field.
“if we can stick to it with the right spirit we’ll stand a show of winning. it’s spirit that tells, boys. i want you to get into the mood. keep on your toes every instant. no matter where you’re playing, keep alert and wide-awake. the outfielders need to be just as watchful and alert as the infielders. seconds count in getting after the ball. the player who starts at the crack of the bat gains time. i know you want to win. if we should carry off this game we would be tied with one of the other teams for first place.
“from this day to the finish of the season it’s going to be a fierce old struggle. every game won counts heavily for final success. every game lost will be a millstone to drag down the defeated team. throughout all the yelling and howling of these hoodlums, don’t forget that we’ve friends here. the summer people are with us, but it’s not likely they’ll make enough noise to be heard while the toughs are whooping it up. now, fellows, let’s get after that pitcher at the start. a good start counts, and we may worry raymer if we connect with his delivery at the outset.”
during this talk merriwell’s players seemed to feel the spirit of undying determination that he possessed. as his eyes turned from one to another, it seemed that he poured out upon them a little of his own spirit, and when the game began every one of them was filled with it.
the batting order of both teams follows:
fairhavens. maplewood.
gardner, rf. mole, cf.
bold, p. hunston, 1st b.
bradley, 3d b. connor, ss.
buckhart, c. halligan, lf.
merriwell, ss. lumley, 3d b.
jolliby, cf. dillard, 2d b.
singleton, 1st b. farrell, rf.
tubbs, 2d b. garvin, c.
smart, rf. raymer, p.
gardner walked out with a springy step and took his position at the plate. raymer whistled over a swift one, and earl promptly drove it far into left field. as the ball bounded past the fielder, who was running after it, it seemed certain that gardner would make three bases, and there was a possibility of his circling the diamond and scoring.
some of those who watched the ball bound away to the fence were surprised to see halligan pause in his pursuit of it, stoop quickly, and pick something up. then the fellow turned and threw a ball to connor, who had run out a little toward left field.
“how did that happen?” exclaimed william drake. “that’s not the ball!”
connor snapped the ball he had received to dillard at second, and gardner’s run was checked there.
“wait a minute, mr. umpire!” cried dick, starting out onto the diamond. “that’s not the ball in play! that’s not the ball gardner hit!”
immediately there was a terrific uproar from the crowd of hoodlums. they yelled at dick, and hurled upon him all sorts of epithets. some of them even started to follow him onto the field.
“get off the field!” commanded the umpire. “if you crowd out here i’ll stop the game! get back behind the ropes!”
they retreated reluctantly, still howling at dick.
the umpire thought the ball thrown in by halligan was the one he had put in play, and therefore dick’s protest was passed over.
“i’ll have gardner look for the right ball when he takes the field,” said merriwell, as he retreated to he bench.
bold was the next batter, and he took a signal from dick, which led him to bunt the second ball pitched by raymer. he cleverly sent it slowly rolling along the ground just inside the first-base line.
on this bunt gardner easily took third, while bold was thrown out at first. earl crossed third base as if contemplating dashing home, and the ball was sent across to lumley by hunston. this forced gardner to dive back to the bag: but he was off again in a twinkling as he saw the throw was a bad one.
lumley jumped for the ball, thrust out his left hand, but barely touched it with his fingers.
then gardner raced home with the first run for fairhaven.
“that’s the right spirit,” assured dick, patting earl on the back. “they spoiled your homer with a trick, but you led hunston into a bad throw and scored just the same. i want you to look for that ball out there in left field. i think you will find it close to the fence.”
“i wondered how he got it so soon and threw it in,” said earl.
this beginning by the visitors seemed to enrage the crowd of hoodlums. as bradley strode out to hit they whooped and yelled at him as loudly as possible. some of them made references to his personal appearance, and two or three called him foul names.
again dick started up and made a signal to the umpire.
there was a lull, and he was heard demanding that something should be done to stop the rowdyism.
“where is mr. hammerswell?” cried the umpire, looking around for the maplewood manager.
but hammerswell was keeping under cover just then. he had decided to keep out of sight and could not be found.
the umpire warned the crowd, but his warning proved ineffective. they laughed at him and invited him to “go fall off the earth.”
bradley seemed deaf to all the racket. he missed a good one over the outside corner, then let two pass and struck under a sharp rise.
“you can’t hit, you lobster!” whooped one of the thugs.
“back to the fool house!” yelled another.
“where did you get that face?” howled a third. “it’s enough to frighten a hottentot!”
but these things were mild beside some of the language used, and the ladies were shocked by what they were compelled to hear.
“this is the end of hammerswell’s baseball days in maplewood,” said dick to buckhart. “he may last through the season, but i’ll guarantee he never again runs a team here.”
“the varmint ought to be hanged!” snarled the texan. “a rope and a limb is what’s coming to him.” bradley finally cracked out a clean single and easily took first.
then buckhart walked to the plate and slammed the ball fairly against centre-field fence. it rebounded and was lost in some grass near the fence.
nevertheless, mole lost no time in searching for it. in the midst of a tuft of grass he found a ball snugly hidden, and this he sent back into the diamond.
ted smart was on the coaching line near third, and his signal sent bradley across that bag and onward to the plate.
mole’s throw to dillard was swift and accurate. dillard wheeled and lined the ball to garvin, who tagged bradley the moment before billy reached the plate. buckhart had crossed second, and he made an attempt to reach third on dillard’s throw to garvin.
the catcher snapped the ball over to lumley, who tagged brad as he was sliding, and in this manner two men were put out, which retired the islanders.
in fact, neither bradley nor buckhart had been legally put out, for the ball returned by mole was not the one batted to the fence by the texan. dick suspected this, but was not sure of it.
by this time bart hodge, who had thus far restrained himself with difficulty, was thoroughly aroused. his fighting blood was up, and he longed to get into the game himself.
“this doesn’t seem much like old maplewood,” he muttered. “in the old days this was the cleanest town in the league. frank will hardly believe it when i write him about this game.”
bold went into the box for fairhaven, and immediately the hoodlums began to yell at him. they piled on the insults thicker and thicker, but he seemed entirely unaware of their howling. at intervals he had felt a slight catch in his shoulder, but he fancied this might work out as the game progressed.
mole was a good waiter, and in the end he secured a pass to first, as bold could not seem to locate the plate. hunston followed, and he bunted the second ball pitched, rolling it slowly down just inside the third-base line.
as bradley came leaping in to handle this bunt, he was confused to see two balls rolling slowly along within a foot of each other.
some one on the opposite side of the home plate had tossed out another ball, which thus rolled into the diamond beside the one hit.
bradley caught up the wrong ball and snapped it to singleton. had it been the right ball hunston should have been declared out, for it reached big bob’s hands before the runner touched first.
then arose an argument over which ball was in play, and the umpire confessed that he did not know. for this very reason he refused to declare hunston out.
bart hodge seemed inclined to seek the fellow who had thrown the ball out onto the diamond, but jack cole advised him against it.
“better keep still,” said cole. “that gang will all jump any one who starts trouble to-day.”
“it’s about the dirtiest ball playing i ever witnessed,” said bart. “i have seen a few tricks in my day, but they are coming thick and fast here.”
connor followed up the successes attained by the men ahead of him by dropping a little fly just over the infield, and this filled the bases.
bold now settled down to do his best, but whenever he threw a drop there was a snapping sensation in his shoulder and his entire arm received a twinge of pain. this prevented him from using his most effective ball, and in the end halligan smashed a line drive far into the field, scoring three men and reaching second base himself.
“i am afraid the game is lost in the very first inning,” muttered hodge regretfully.
