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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
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+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #50761 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50761)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pitcher Pollock, by Christy Mathewson
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Pitcher Pollock
-
-Author: Christy Mathewson
-
-Illustrator: Charles M. Relyea
-
-Release Date: December 24, 2015 [EBook #50761]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PITCHER POLLOCK ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by The
-Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- PITCHER POLLOCK
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: Down came Bert’s arm and it was all over]
-
-
-
-
- PITCHER POLLOCK
-
- BY
-
- CHRISTY MATHEWSON
-
- AUTHOR OF
-
- FIRST BASE FAULKNER,
- CATCHER CRAIG, Etc.
-
-
- ILLUSTRATED BY
- CHARLES M. RELYEA
-
-
- [Illustration]
-
-
- GROSSET & DUNLAP
- PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
-
-
- Made in the United States of America
-
-
-
-
- Copyright, 1914, by
- DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
-
-
- PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
- CHAPTER PAGE
- I TOM HUNTS A JOB 3
- II AND FINDS IT 14
- III UNCLE ISRAEL SAYS “NO” 27
- IV AT CUMMINGS AND WRIGHT’S 35
- V TOM LOOKS AT HIS HAIR 48
- VI TWO PAIRS OF SKATES 64
- VII TOM GAINS PROMOTION 82
- VIII AN OUT-CURVE 100
- IX TOM WANTS TO KNOW 114
- X TOM PLAYS IN A REAL GAME 124
- XI THE BLUES VISIT LYNTON 138
- XII “BATTER’S OUT” 151
- XIII TOM TWIRLS TO VICTORY 164
- XIV COACH TALBOT MAKES A CALL 180
- XV THE PUMP CHANGES HANDS 197
- XVI THE DETECTIVE DONS A MASK 214
- XVII AFTERNOON PRACTICE 224
- XVIII TOM TWIRLS FOR THE SCRUBS 237
- XIX WITH THE TEAM 249
- XX AMESVILLE LOSES THE GAME 264
- XXI KNOCKED OUT OF THE BOX 283
- XXII UNCLE ISRAEL SITS UP 293
- XXIII “PLAY BALL!” 304
- XXIV PITCHER POLLOCK 313
- XXV THREE OUT 325
-
-
-
-
-ILLUSTRATIONS
-
-
- Down came Bert’s arm and it was all over _Frontispiece_
-
- FACING PAGE
-
- “I was wondering sir,” said Tom, “if after
- I’ve paid that bill I couldn’t have the
- pump” 46
-
- “‘Grasp the ball firmly,’” recited Sidney,
- “‘between the thumb and the first two
- fingers’” 120
-
- “Now you watch, son. Better get behind me
- so’s you can see” 210
-
-
-
-
-PITCHER POLLOCK
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-TOM HUNTS A JOB
-
-
-“Want to hire a boy?”
-
-Mr. Cummings looked around and across the showcase at the youth who
-stood there.
-
-“Want to what?” he asked.
-
-“Hire a boy. I’m looking for a job.”
-
-“Oh.” Mr. Cummings turned back to his task of rearranging a number of
-carpenter’s squares in a green box and made no other reply for a moment.
-The boy waited silently, watching interestedly. Finally, fixing the
-cover on the box and laying it on a shelf, “Ever worked in a hardware
-shop?” he asked.
-
-“No, sir.”
-
-“I didn’t suppose you had. What use would you be to me then, eh?” Mr.
-Cummings peered sharply at him.
-
-“I could sweep and run errands and--and wash windows and the like of
-that,” replied the applicant imperturbably. “I’ll tell you how it is,
-sir. I live out to Derry, and----”
-
-“What’s your name?”
-
-“Tom Pollock, sir.”
-
-“I didn’t know there were any Pollocks in Derry.”
-
-“There ain’t, sir, except me. I live with my uncle, Mr. Bowles.”
-
-“Israel Bowles?”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“Hm. So you’re Israel’s nephew, eh? Didn’t know he had any kin. Well,
-all right. Then what?”
-
-“I’m going to high school next week,” went on the boy. He spoke slowly,
-choosing his words carefully and sometimes correcting himself as he
-talked. “I got to live in town because, you see, I couldn’t get back
-and forth every day.”
-
-“Aren’t the trains running out to Derry any more?”
-
-“Yes, sir, but--but it would cost too much, you see. So I thought maybe
-if I could get some work here in Amesville----”
-
-“How in tarnation do you expect to work and go to school too?”
-
-“I don’t have to go to school until half-past eight and I’d be all
-through by three, and I thought if I could find some work to do in the
-morning before school and then in the afternoon----”
-
-“I see. Well, I guess you wouldn’t be worth much money to anyone,
-working that way, son.”
-
-“No, sir, that’s what I thought. I wasn’t expecting to get much,
-either.”
-
-“Weren’t, eh? How much?”
-
-“Well, about----” He hesitated, viewing the merchant anxiously. “Of
-course I don’t know much about what folks pay, but Uncle Israel
-said----”
-
-“Hold on a bit,” interrupted Mr. Cummings suspiciously. “Did that
-old--did Israel Bowles tell you to come to me?”
-
-“No, sir. I just started up at the other end of town and worked along.
-I’ve been at it most all morning.”
-
-“Hm. Didn’t find anything, eh?”
-
-“Not yet,” answered Tom cheerfully. “I got--I’ve got the other side
-of the street yet, though. An’--and I ain’t--haven’t been on the side
-streets at all. I guess I’ll find something.”
-
-“Hope you do,” said the merchant. “But I guess you wouldn’t be much
-use to me. How much did you say you wanted?”
-
-“Two--two and a half a week,” said the boy. He gulped as he said it and
-looked questioningly at the merchant. “I thought,” he continued as Mr.
-Cummings’s countenance told him nothing, “that if I could get enough to
-pay my lodging I’d make out, sir.”
-
-“Got to eat, though, haven’t you?”
-
-“I--I got a little saved up, sir. I worked for a man over to--over in
-Fairfield most of the summer.”
-
-“What for? Isn’t your uncle hiring help any more? Hasn’t given up
-farming, has he?”
-
-“No, sir, but--well, I made more working for Mr. Billings.”
-
-“I’ll bet you did!” Mr. Cummings chuckled. “I know that uncle of
-yours, son, from A to Izzard, and there isn’t a meaner old skinflint
-in Muskingum County! He owes me nearly sixty-five dollars, and he’s
-been owing it for nearly six years, and I guess he’ll keep on owing
-it unless I sue him for it. Bought a pump of me and then claimed it
-didn’t work right and wouldn’t ever send it back or pay for it, the old
-rascal! Yes, I guess sure enough you did better working somewheres
-else, son!”
-
-Tom had nothing to say to this. Perhaps, as a dutiful nephew, he
-should have stood up for Uncle Israel, but the hardware dealer’s
-estimate of Mr. Bowles was a very general one and Tom had long since
-become accustomed to hearing just such remarks passed. Finally, as the
-merchant seemed to have finished talking, Tom said:
-
-“I’m sorry. Well, I guess I’ll be going on. Unless--unless you think
-maybe----”
-
-“Wait a minute.” Mr. Cummings had opened the slide at the back of
-the showcase and was absent-mindedly rearranging some boxes of
-pocket-knives and scissors. At last, shutting the slide again briskly:
-“Look here, son, maybe you and I can make a dicker yet. Two and a half
-isn’t a whole lot of money, even if times are pretty bad. I might give
-you that much and not go broke, eh? How long do you suppose you could
-work here at the store ordinarily?”
-
-“Why, I could be around by half-past six, I think, sir, and work until
-about eight-twenty-five. The school ain’t--isn’t far. Then after
-school I’d stay around as long as you wanted me. I--I’d like mighty
-well to work for you, sir.”
-
-“Hm. Well, you look pretty strong and healthy. There’d be a lot of
-heavy work to do. Hardware’s hefty stuff to handle, son.” Tom nodded,
-undismayed. “I wasn’t exactly thinking of hiring anyone yet awhile.
-Usually along about November we have an extra helper, but fall is a
-dull time, mostly. What about Saturdays? Don’t have to go to school
-then, do you?”
-
-“No, sir, I could be here all day Saturday. I forgot to tell you that.
-I’d like, though, to get the seven-forty-six train Saturday nights. I’m
-aiming to get home over Sundays. Of course, if there was a lot to do,
-I’d be perfectly willing to stay and help, sir.”
-
-“We-ell----” Mr. Cummings frowned thoughtfully at a lurid powder
-advertisement that hung nearby. “Tell you what you do, son. Had your
-dinner yet?”
-
-“No, sir.”
-
-“You go and have your dinner and then come back. My partner will be
-in at one and I’ll see what he says. Then, if he don’t want you, you
-haven’t wasted any time and you can try somewhere else.”
-
-“Thank you. What time’ll I come back?”
-
-“Say half-past one. That will give you most an hour for dinner. Guess
-if you’ve been walking around town all forenoon you’ll want most an
-hour, eh?” And Mr. Cummings smiled in a friendly, almost jovial way.
-
-“Yes, sir,” returned Tom. His own smile was fainter. “I’ll be back
-then. Much obliged. An’--and I hope the other--I hope your partner will
-let me come.”
-
-“We’ll see.” Mr. Cummings waved his hand. “I’ll let you know when you
-come back.” He watched the boy speculatively as the latter strode
-unhurriedly down the aisle and out of the door. Then, “Miss Miller,” he
-called, “look up Israel Bowles’s account and give me the figures.”
-
-At the back of the store, behind the window of the cashier’s
-partitioned-in desk, a face came momentarily into sight and a brown
-head nodded.
-
-Out on the sidewalk Tom Pollock paused and thrust his hands into his
-pockets. It was the noon hour and Main Street was quite a busy scene.
-Almost directly across the wide thoroughfare the white enamelled signs
-of a lunch room gleamed appealingly. Tom looked speculatively at the
-next store on his route, which was a tiny shoe shop with one diminutive
-window filled with cheap footwear. It didn’t promise much, he thought.
-Then a hand went into a pocket and he pulled out a crumpled dollar
-bill and some silver. He frowned as he hastily calculated the sum of
-it, selected two ten-cent pieces, and returned the rest to the pocket.
-With the two coins in the palm of his hand he crossed the street to
-the lunch room and found a seat. The back of the room held counters
-with stools in front of them that folded out of the way when not in
-use, but near the entrance two lines of chairs stood against the walls.
-The right arm of each chair was widened into a sort of shelf large
-enough to hold a plate and a cup and saucer. Above the rows of chairs
-the neat white walls were inscribed with lists of viands and their
-prices. Tom sank into his chair with a sigh, stretched out his tired
-feet, and studied the menu across the room. There was no hurry, for
-he had three-quarters of an hour before he would return to Cummings
-and Wright’s to learn the verdict. The chair Tom had taken had been
-the only empty one at the moment, for the lunch room was popular and
-well patronised and the time was the busiest period of the day. At his
-right a rather small, neatly dressed gentleman with black whiskers
-and a nervous manner was simultaneously draining the last drop in his
-milk glass and glancing at a gold watch which he had pulled from his
-pocket in a fidgety way. Tom had decided to have a plate of beef stew,
-price ten cents, a piece of apple pie, price five cents, and a glass of
-milk, price the same, when the nervous gentleman arose hurriedly and in
-passing tripped against one of Tom’s extended feet.
-
-“Excuse me,” said Tom. The man gave him an irritated glance, muttered
-something ungracious, and made for the door. Tom’s gaze turned idly
-toward the chair beside him which the man had just vacated and fell
-on a small leather coin-purse. Evidently the gentleman had failed to
-return it to his trousers pocket or it had fallen out afterward. Tom
-seized it and jumped up. Fortunately he found when he reached the door
-that the loser, in spite of his apparent hurry, had paused on the curb.
-Tom touched him on the arm.
-
-“I guess this is yours, ain’t it?” he asked. “It was in your chair.”
-
-“Eh? Yes, of course it is. Must have dropped out of my pocket.” He
-seemed quite put out about it and scowled at the purse before he put
-it away. “Most annoying.” He shot a fleeting glance at the boy. “Much
-obliged to you; very kind.” Then he plunged off the sidewalk, dodged a
-dray, and narrowly escaped the fender of a trolley car. Tom smiled as
-he returned to the lunch room.
-
-“Bet you,” he reflected, “he’s one of the sort that’s always in a hurry
-and never gets anywhere!”
-
-His absence, as short as it had been, had lost him his seat, and he was
-obliged to penetrate to the rear of the room and perch himself on a
-stool in front of one of the long counters. There, however, he feasted
-royally on beef stew, bread and butter, pie and milk, and managed to
-consume a full half-hour doing it. To be sure, he was still hungry when
-he had finished the last crumb, for he had had nothing since breakfast
-at seven o’clock and it was now well after one, and he had been on the
-go all the morning. But he felt a heap better and a lot more hopeful,
-and as he left the lunch room he was ready to believe his search for
-employment ended, that Mr. Cummings’s reply would be favourable. A
-contented stomach is a great incentive to cheerful thoughts.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-AND FINDS IT
-
-
-The clock in a nearby steeple showed Tom that there still remained
-nearly ten minutes of waiting, and so he joined the northward-bound
-throng and idled along the street, pausing now and then to examine the
-contents of a store window. A jeweller’s display held him for several
-minutes. He wondered whether he would ever be rich enough to possess
-one of the handsome gold watches so temptingly displayed on black
-velvet.
-
-“They ain’t--aren’t--any thicker’n a buckwheat cake,” marvelled Tom.
-“Don’t seem as if there was room inside them for the wheels and
-things!” Just then he caught sight of himself in a mirror, took off
-his straw hat, and smoothed down a rebellious lock of red-brown hair.
-Then he replaced his hat, studied the result in the mirror, and nodded
-approvingly. A lady at the other side of the window smiled at the
-pantomime, and then, catching Tom’s glance in the mirror, smiled at
-Tom. Tom flushed and hurried away.
-
-“Guess she thought I was a fool,” he muttered. “Standing there and
-primping like a girl!”
-
-The lady followed his flight with kindly amusement, realising
-sympathetically his embarrassment. And as she went on she wondered
-about him a little. The reddish-brown hair and the clear, honest blue
-eyes had been attractive, and, although the tanned and much-freckled
-face could not have been called handsome, yet there was something
-about it, perhaps the expression of boyish confidence and candour,
-that lingered in her memory. Neatly, if inexpensively dressed, his
-attire had told her that he was not an Amesville boy, while a lack of
-awkwardness, a general air of self-dependence, seemed to preclude the
-idea of his being from the country. The problem lasted her only for a
-short distance and then Tom and the ingenuous incident at the window
-passed from her mind. But she and Tom were destined to meet again,
-although neither suspected it.
-
-It was exactly half-past one when Tom entered the hardware store once
-more. On the occasion of his first visit the store had been empty of
-customers, but now at least half a dozen persons were there, and Mr.
-Cummings was busy. Tom found a position out of the way and waited.
-Besides Mr. Cummings, there were two others behind the counters--a
-tall youth who, as he passed with a customer in tow, looked curiously
-at the boy, and a small man with dark whiskers who, at his present
-distance, had a strong likeness to the gentleman who had left his purse
-in the lunch room. It was several minutes before Mr. Cummings was at
-leisure, but finally, dropping the change into the glove of a lady who
-had purchased a tack hammer and three papers of upholstery tacks, he
-beckoned Tom to the counter.
-
-“Well,” he said, “I spoke to Mr. Wright about you, son, but he didn’t
-think we’d better hire anyone just yet. Maybe a month or so later, if
-you still want a job, we can take you on. Sorry I can’t do anything
-now.”
-
-Tom’s face fell. He had been so certain since lunch that his troubles
-were over that the disappointment was deeper than it should have been.
-
-“I’m sorry too, sir,” he said after a moment. “Well, I guess I’ll go
-on. I--I’m much obliged to you. You don’t happen to know of anyone who
-wants a boy, do you?”
-
-“No, I don’t believe I do,” returned Mr. Cummings kindly. He kept step
-with Tom for a way as the latter moved toward the door. “You might try
-Miller and Tappen’s, though. That’s the dry-goods store up the street.
-They take new help on pretty often, I guess.”
-
-“I’ve been there,” said Tom. “They said----”
-
-“Joe, where have those three-inch brass hooks got to?” asked an
-impatient voice from the front of the store. “Funny we can’t keep
-anything in place here!”
-
-“Ought to be right in front of you,” replied Mr. Cummings in patient
-tones. “Second shelf, Horace. No, _second_, I said. There! Got ’em?”
-
-“Yes,” replied the dark-whiskered man irritably. “I’ve got them at
-last!”
-
-It _was_ the gentleman of the coin-purse. Tom recognised him as he went
-past. The junior partner was displaying the three-inch hooks to a man
-in overalls and glanced up in his quick, nervous manner at the boy.
-Then he looked again, and:
-
-“Who’s that?” he asked sharply of Mr. Cummings.
-
-“The boy I spoke to you about. Wants a job.”
-
-“Call him back!”
-
-Tom was just at the doorway when Mr. Cummings’s summons fell on his
-ear. He turned and retraced his steps. Mr. Cummings beckoned him to the
-counter where he had joined his partner. It was Mr. Wright who spoke,
-eying Tom searchingly.
-
-“Aren’t you the boy who found my purse in the restaurant?” he demanded,
-almost fiercely.
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“Mm.” Mr. Wright poked a finger through the scattered hooks on the
-counter. “You wait a minute.”
-
-Tom drew aside. A glance at Mr. Cummings’s face showed him that the
-senior partner was quite as much in the dark as he was as to Mr.
-Wright’s conduct. But a minute later the customer in overalls went off
-with his hooks, and Mr. Wright, after returning the rest of them to a
-box and, as Tom saw with amusement, tossing it carelessly back to the
-wrong shelf, came from behind the counter.
-
-“Mr. Cummings says you want employment,” he said questioningly. “What
-can you do?”
-
-“Anything, sir. I ain’t afraid of work.”
-
-“Going to school, are you?”
-
-“Yes, sir. I start Monday at high school.”
-
-“Do you know how to use a broom?”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-Mr. Wright drew his fingers nervously through his black whiskers. “Do,
-eh? That’s more than anybody else does around here.” Evidently that was
-intended as a hit at the tall clerk who had drawn near. But the clerk
-only grinned. “Well----” Mr. Wright turned to his partner. “Take him on
-if you want to,” he said. “He’s honest, anyway. That’s something. You
-talk to him.”
-
-He hurried away to the front of the store. Mr. Cummings, with a smile
-and a quizzical shrug of his shoulders, beckoned Tom to the railed-off
-office at the rear of the store. There he told Tom to sit down.
-
-“What’s this about a purse?” he inquired.
-
-Tom told of the incident. Mr. Cummings seemed unduly impressed by it.
-“Now that was funny, wasn’t it? A regular coincidence, eh? Blessed
-if it don’t look to me as if luck had fixed everything up for you,
-son. Well, now I’ll tell you what we’re willing to do and you can say
-whether you want to do it. Your uncle owes this firm sixty-four dollars
-and a half. We’ll call it an even sixty. Now, we’ll take you on here
-to work at two and a half a week. Two of that goes to you and fifty
-cents of it comes to us until we’ve squared ourselves for that sixty
-dollars. That satisfactory to you?”
-
-Tom considered a moment. Then, “Yes, sir, I think so,” he replied a
-little doubtfully.
-
-“Well, if I were you, I’d talk to my uncle; tell him our offer and see
-if he wouldn’t be willing to make up the half-dollar to you. You’re
-paying his bill, you know.”
-
-“Maybe he would.” But there was little conviction in Tom’s tone.
-“Anyway, if he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter, I guess. It would be all
-right if I could find a room for two dollars. I looked at one this
-morning, but the lady wanted two dollars and a half for it. Maybe I
-could find another, though.”
-
-“I think you ought to,” said Mr. Cummings. “Try around Locust Street,
-near the depot. Well, there’s our offer, son, anyway. If you want to,
-you can have a talk with your uncle before you decide.”
-
-“No, sir, thanks, I’ll--I’ll come, anyway.”
-
-“All right. If you get on and learn the business, after a while we’ll
-give you more money. Mind you, though, you’ll have to show up here at
-seven-thirty, open up the store, and sweep and dust. And we’ll expect
-you back after school to stay until we close at six. On Saturdays we
-stay open until nine. And just before Christmas we keep open every
-evening. Let’s see; you said you wanted to get off early Saturday
-evenings, didn’t you?”
-
-“I thought I’d like to spend Sundays at home, sir.”
-
-“That would be all right usually, I guess. Around Christmas time we
-might want you to stay late on Saturdays, but other times I guess you
-could get off by eight or whenever your train goes. When do you want to
-start?”
-
-“I was thinking I’d start Monday afternoon, sir. I’m going home to-day
-and coming back Monday morning, in time for school. Would that be all
-right?”
-
-“Yes, that’ll do. To-day’s Thursday, isn’t it? All right, son. We’ll
-look for you Monday afternoon. You do your work right and I guess
-you’ll find us easy to get along with.” Mr. Cummings hesitated. “I
-might as well tell you, though, that--er--my partner is a little
-quick-tempered at times. It’s just his way. He’s terribly nervous.
-After you get used to him, you won’t mind it.”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“That’s all then, I guess. By the way, what did you tell me your name
-was?”
-
-“Thomas Pollock, sir.”
-
-“Miss Miller, just make a note of this, please. Thomas Pollock enters
-our employ Monday. Wages, two and a half a week. Enter him on the
-pay-roll. Thank you. By the way, son, you’d better have a pair of
-overalls here to slip on. There’ll be dirty jobs, I guess, and there’s
-no use spoiling your clothes. Good day.”
-
-It was not yet two o’clock when Tom passed out of Cummings and Wright’s
-and his train did not leave until after four. That gave him a good two
-hours in which to seek a room within the limit of the two dollars which
-he was to actually receive. He had scant expectation of being able to
-persuade Uncle Israel to make good that fifty cents a week to him.
-Israel Bowles was considered a hard man around Derry, and, it seemed,
-his reputation had even spread to the city. Tom didn’t for a moment
-doubt that Uncle Israel really did honestly owe that sixty-odd dollars
-to the hardware house. Uncle Israel, however, probably had what seemed
-to him a perfectly legitimate reason for not paying it. And, as the
-indebtedness had remained for six years, Tom didn’t believe that Uncle
-Israel would agree to paying it off through him. Still, it would do no
-harm to ask, he told himself as he set off down Main Street.
-
-Tom’s mother had died when he was a baby, and his father when he was
-nine years old. They had lived in Plaistow, a small Ohio town about
-a hundred miles from Derry. Before Tom, who was the only child, had
-been born his parents had had several homes, as he had learned from
-Uncle Israel. Uncle Israel called Tom’s father a “ne’er-do-well” and
-a “gallivanter.” Tom for a long time didn’t know what a “gallivanter”
-was, but he always resented the term as applied to his father. His
-parents, like Uncle Israel, who was his mother’s brother, had come
-originally from New Hampshire. When Tom’s father died, leaving little
-in the way of earthly goods, Uncle Israel had promptly claimed the boy
-and taken him to Derry. On the whole, Uncle Israel had been kind to
-Tom. The lad had had to work hard during the six years on the farm,
-had had to rise early and, often enough, go late to bed, since his
-schooling had been more or less intermittent, and it had been only
-by studying in the evenings that he had been able to keep up with
-his class in the little country schoolhouse. Tom couldn’t doubt that
-Uncle Israel was fond of him, even if displays of affection had been
-few. And Tom was honestly fond of Uncle Israel. He knew better than
-perhaps anyone else that, hard as his uncle seemed, there were some
-soft places, after all. But Tom didn’t deceive himself with false hopes
-about the fifty cents a week!
-
-Main Street crossed the railroad tracks between the station and the
-freight houses. Parallel to the railroad ran Locust Street, lined on
-one side with small stores and lodging-houses affected by railroad
-employés. It was not an attractive part of the town, and the smoke from
-the engines and the dust raised by the wagons and drays that passed on
-their way to the freight houses made the fronts of the cheap, unlovely
-buildings dingy and dirty. But Tom knew he had no right to expect a
-great deal for two dollars and so began his search philosophically.
-There were plenty of rooms for rent in those three blocks, but most of
-them, after his own neat and clean little bedroom at the farm, turned
-him away in disgust. But at length he found what seemed to answer
-his purpose. It was a back room in a lodging-house even smaller and
-meaner-looking than usual, but it was clean and, within its limits,
-attractive. And the price was better than he had dared hope for. He
-could have it, said the stout Irishwoman who pantingly conducted him up
-the flight of steep, uncarpeted stairs, for a dollar and seventy-five
-cents a week, payable in advance. From the one small window there
-was a not unattractive view of a diminutive back-yard, which held a
-prosperous-looking elm tree, and the rear of a livery stable which,
-being only one story in height, allowed him to look over its flat
-tar-and-gravel roof to the more distant roofs and spires and trees of
-Amesville. Tom took the room, paid down fifty cents as earnest money,
-and agreed to pay the balance Monday morning. His landlady’s name, as
-she told him on the way downstairs, was Cleary, and her husband worked
-in the roundhouse. She referred to him as a “hostler,” but Tom didn’t
-see how a hostler could be employed about engines. He didn’t question
-her statement, however. She seemed a good-hearted, respectable woman.
-She had six other lodgers, she informed him, “all illigint tinants,”
-and proceeded to supply him with the life history of each. Two small
-children crept bashfully through the door of a back room and stared
-unblinkingly at Tom until their mother discovered their presence and
-sent them scurrying out of sight. “Me two youngest,” she explained
-proudly. “I’ve three more. One do be working for Miller and Tappen,
-drives a delivery cart, he does, and the next two do be in school.
-They’re good kiddies, the whole lot of ’em.”
-
-Tom finally dragged himself away and crossed over to the station to
-kill time until his train left, on the whole very well satisfied with
-the results of his day’s industry.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-UNCLE ISRAEL SAYS “NO”
-
-
-Derry lay twenty-two miles to the west of Amesville and it required
-almost an hour for the branch line train to reach the little
-settlement. Tom descended from the car amidst the clatter of empty
-milk-cans being put off on the platform of the small station. Uncle
-Israel Bowles’s farm lay nearly a mile away, and Tom, whose feet were
-sore from the unaccustomed tramping of city pavements, looked about for
-a lift. But of the two buggies and one farm wagon in sight none was
-bound his way, and so he crossed to the dusty road that led northward
-and set out through the warm, still end of a September day. There was
-no hurry and so he went slowly, limping a little now and then, and
-thinking busily of the new life to begin on Monday. He wondered whether
-he would get on satisfactorily with Cummings and Wright, whether the
-lessons at high school would prove terribly hard, whether he would
-find any friends amongst the boys there. And finally, with an uneasy
-sensation, he wondered how long the small amount of money he had
-saved up during the past two years would last him in Amesville. What
-experience he had had of city prices for food alarmed him when he
-thought of satisfying that very healthy appetite of his! Well, he would
-just have to do the best he could, and if doing the best he could meant
-going hungry sometimes he’d go hungry! At all events, that money had to
-last him until next summer, when, either through some more advantageous
-arrangement with Cummings and Wright or by hiring himself again to one
-of the neighbouring farmers, he could once more put himself in funds.
-These reflections and resolves brought him in sight of the farm, and
-the next moment the joyful barking of Star, his collie dog, announced
-his advent. Star came leaping and bounding through the gate and down
-the road to meet him.
-
-“Hello, old chap!” said Tom, patting the dog’s head. “I guess I’m going
-to miss you more’n anything or anybody when I go away. I wish I could
-take you with me. I just do. But I guess you’d pretty near starve to
-death over there to Amesville. There wouldn’t be any buttermilk, Star,
-and there wouldn’t be any corn-bread, either, I guess. Well, I’ll be
-back on Saturdays to see you, anyway. What you been doing all day? Did
-you miss me?”
-
-Star replied dog-fashion that he had missed his master very much,
-and, by licking his hand and doing his best to lick his face as
-well, accorded him a royal welcome home. Aunt Patty--she was no real
-relation, but Tom had always called her aunt--was setting the table for
-supper as he went in. She was a small, wrinkled little old woman, with
-a sharp tongue and a warm heart, and had kept house for Uncle Israel
-for nearly twenty years. She paused with a salt-cellar in each hand and
-viewed Tom and Star critically.
-
-“Back again, be you?” she asked in her sharp, thin voice. “An’ that
-pesky dog-critter’s back again, too, ain’t he? If I’ve put him out o’
-here once to-day, I’ve put him out forty times! Gettin’ the place all
-upsot an’ bringin’ in dirt! Well, what you find out this time?”
-
-“Lots, Aunt Patty,” answered Tom cheerfully. “Star, you lie down like a
-good dog or Aunt Patty won’t love you any more.”
-
-Aunt Patty sniffed. “Well, can’t you tell a body anything?” she asked.
-“You got most as close a tongue as your uncle, you have!”
-
-“I’ve got a job, Aunt Patty. Cummings and Wright, the hardware firm.
-Two and a half a week. How’s that?”
-
-“’Tain’t much for a big strong boy like you to earn, I’d say.”
-
-“But I can only be there before and after school. I think two and a
-half’s pretty good wages, considering. And I found a room for a dollar
-and seventy-five cents. So that leaves me a quarter to the good, you
-see.”
-
-“Leaves you seventy-five cents, don’t it? Where’s all your ’rithmetic?”
-
-“Ye-es, I meant seventy-five,” responded Tom slowly. “Where’s uncle?”
-
-“Round somewheres. Land sakes, don’t expect me to keep track of him, do
-you? Likely he’s in the cow-shed. John ain’t brought in the milk yet.”
-
-“I guess I’d ought to go out and help,” mused Tom. “Only if I do I’ll
-get this suit dirty, maybe.”
-
-“You keep away from the barn in them clothes, Tom Pollock. I guess
-there ain’t any more work than two able-bodied men can do. Supper’s
-most ready, anyhow. Ain’t you hungry?”
-
-“I guess so,” Tom answered uncertainly. “I’ll go up and wash my hands.”
-
-When Tom returned a few minutes later, Uncle Israel and John Green,
-the hired man, had come in, and Aunt Patty summoned them to supper.
-Uncle Israel folded his big, bony hands on the edge of the red cloth,
-bent his head, and said grace in his rumbling voice. Then he turned his
-sharp, cold-blue eyes on Tom.
-
-“What all’d you do to-day, Tom?” he asked.
-
-Tom recounted the day’s adventures in detail, neglecting, however, to
-explain the terms of Cummings and Wright’s offer. Uncle Israel listened
-attentively, eating steadily all the time as though taking food was a
-duty he owed rather than a pleasure. He was a tall man just past fifty
-years of age--Tom already showed promise of being like him as far as
-height was concerned--with a large, strongly-built frame on which he
-carried little flesh. He was long of arm and leg and neck, and his face
-held two prominent features--the large straight nose and the deeply
-set eyes which had the frosty glitter of blue ice. His face, tanned
-and weathered, was clean-shaven except at the chin, where a small tuft
-of grizzled beard wagged in time to the working of his strong jaws.
-The face was rather a handsome one, on the whole, handsome in a hard
-and rugged fashion that somehow reminded one of the granite hills of
-his native state. He said little during Tom’s recital, or afterward.
-A grunt or a brusque question now and then was about the sum of his
-contribution to conversation.
-
-After supper, when Aunt Patty was rattling the pans and dishes at
-the kitchen sink and John Green had gone out to the steps to smoke
-his pipe, Tom took his courage in hand and told his uncle about the
-arrangement to which he had agreed with Mr. Cummings. Uncle Israel
-heard him through in silence, frowning the while. “And so,” concluded
-Tom, “I thought maybe you’d be willing to make up the fifty cents to
-me, sir. Would you?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“You mean you don’t want I should pay the bill to them that way?”
-
-“You tell Cummings that that pump’s here and he can come and get it
-any time he wants to. I told him that ’most six years ago, I guess.
-It wan’t no good. It broke down the second time I hitched it up to the
-mill. I told him then I didn’t intend to pay good money for it. He said
-I was to bring it in and he’d take it up with the factory. I said: ‘You
-come and fetch it. I’ve lugged it one way. Now it’s your turn.’ If you
-hand him over fifty cents a week out of your wages, that’s your affair.
-It’s got nothing to do with me.”
-
-Tom considered awhile. Finally, “Where is that pump, Uncle?” he asked.
-
-“Under the barn. Or it was last time I seen it. Maybe it’s rusted to
-pieces by now. I don’t know, nor I don’t care.”
-
-“Well, sir, if I don’t do like he says, he won’t take me to work. And
-it seems to me it’s better to get two dollars than nothing. Course I
-might find a job somewhere else, but”--and Tom sighed--“I went to ’most
-fifty places, I guess. Is--is the pump worth anything at all, sir?”
-
-Mr. Bowles shrugged his shoulders. “Might be worth a few dollars for
-old iron.”
-
-“Then if I pay for it may I have it?”
-
-“What for?”
-
-“Just to see if I can sell it and make some money on it. I guess I’ve
-got to pay for it, sir, and if you don’t want it----”
-
-“It ain’t mine to give,” said his uncle. “If Cummings wants to sell it
-to you, all right. You can tell him from me, though, that there’s a
-little matter of six dollars due me for storing it all this time.” And
-Uncle Israel’s eyes twinkled and the corners of his mouth moved with
-the nearest thing to a smile that he was ever guilty of.
-
-“Then I’d have to pay that, too, before I could have it?” asked Tom.
-
-“You tell him that,” responded Uncle Israel. Then he took up a
-newspaper, settled his spectacles on the bridge of his big nose, and
-edged his chair to the light. The subject was closed. Tom recognised
-the fact and, stifling a sigh, found his Latin book and took himself
-off to study. Monday loomed up startlingly near.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-AT CUMMINGS AND WRIGHT’S
-
-
-Amesville was a city of some twenty-five thousand population, and on
-a certain Monday in late September of the year 1911 it increased its
-population, to our certain knowledge, by one. That one was Mr. Thomas
-Pollock, who stepped off the milk train at a quarter-past six and
-staggered across the dust-strewn road to Mrs. Cleary’s lodging-house,
-burdened with a valise whose bulging sides would certainly have
-strained the lock to the breaking point without the straps that
-encircled them. He spent the better part of an hour in unpacking and
-distributing his possessions. He was not over-supplied with clothes,
-which, in view of the scanty accommodations provided for such things,
-was fortunate; but it nevertheless took him quite a while to arrange
-the contents of the big valise to his satisfaction. There was a small
-table in one corner of the room and a bureau near the window. A
-washstand, a single iron bed, and a straight-backed chair completed the
-furnishings, if we except a very thin and gaudy carpet which tried but
-failed to quite cover the uneven floor. Tom stowed his clothes neatly
-in the bureau drawers--there was no closet, but a board holding four
-hooks was nailed to the inner side of the door--put his extra pair
-of shoes under the table, and arranged a few treasures on table and
-bureau. These included a faded photograph of his father--he had never
-had one of his mother,--one of Aunt Patty taken at the State Fair some
-ten years ago, and one of Star. Star’s likeness had been made by a
-travelling photographer to whom Tom had paid the sum of fifty cents.
-But it was a good picture and worth the money. If only Star had kept
-his tail still no possible fault could have been found with it. The
-treasures also included a pair of skates, an old-fashioned travelling
-portfolio which had belonged to his father and which held an ink-well
-and compartments for paper, envelopes, pens, holders, stamps, and a
-blotter. Tom was very fond of that portfolio and dreamed of some day
-making a real journey and pictured himself sitting in a Pullman car or
-on the deck of a steamer with it on his knee writing long letters to
-Uncle Israel and Aunt Patty. Not to Star, of course, for Star would
-be right there with him! There were other things, too; a much battered
-baseball which showed the imprints of a dog’s teeth, a coloured picture
-showing the landing of Columbus, a sweet-grass basket, the Christmas
-gift of Aunt Patty, holding several disfigured pennies, a postage
-stamp lacking mucilage, some buttons, a stone arrow-head which Tom had
-himself unearthed on the farm, and a soiled piece of slippery-elm.
-There was also a little shiny red-lacquered box with a spray of bamboo
-in gilt on the cover which held Tom’s jewelry. This box, however, had
-been safely stowed under a pile of underwear in the second bureau
-drawer and contained a tiny plain gold ring which was supposed to have
-been his mother’s wedding ring, although Tom had absolutely no proof
-of that, a pair of silver cuff-links, a silver scarf-pin set with an
-imitation ruby, and three gold-plated shirt studs.
-
-At half-past seven Tom locked his room door, dropped the key proudly in
-his pocket, and went in search of breakfast. Aunt Patty had provided
-him with coffee and doughnuts at twenty minutes to five that morning,
-but he felt the need of something more lasting. It was not hard to
-find an eating place, for there were three small and rather dirty
-restaurants on his own street. In the hope of finding cheap prices he
-invaded one of them and ordered corned-beef hash, a boiled egg, and a
-glass of milk. The price was not exorbitant, but the hash was greasy
-and tasteless, the egg was far from fresh, and the milk was a base
-libel on that noble animal, the cow! But the viands served and Tom
-consoled himself with the thought that he had paid ten cents less than
-a similar repast would have cost him on Main Street. There remained a
-whole half-hour before school began and he set out to see the town.
-Thus far he had discovered only the business portion of it. Now he
-turned his steps toward the residential streets and loitered along
-past prosperous-looking houses which, to Tom at least, might well have
-been the abodes of so many multi-millionaires. Later, when he chanced
-upon the abodes of the city’s really wealthy residents, he discovered
-his mistake. But now he mentally peopled the houses with Vanderbilts
-and Goulds and Rockefellers and unenviously admired the smooth green
-lawns and vivid flower borders and resplendent doorways and felt
-very grateful that he was to live in a place where there were so many
-beautiful things.
-
-Then, at last, the high-school building loomed up ahead, set squarely
-in its open plot of lawn and gravelled walks, a handsome great
-structure of mottled brick and sandstone trimmings. Already the boys’
-entrance was well sprinkled with youths, while more were approaching
-the building from all directions. Tom, feeling a little shy, edged his
-way up the broad steps and into the building. But none of the others
-took special notice of him and he reached the Principal’s office
-and joined a line already waiting. The big hallway with its plaster
-statuary and tiled floor was quite impressive as, also, were the
-classrooms which he glimpsed. He couldn’t help comparing it all with
-the little one-room frame schoolhouse at Derry! And he was more than a
-little anxious and nervous as he awaited his turn.
-
-But many things are far worse in anticipation than in realisation,
-and Tom’s first day at high school passed smoothly and without
-misadventure. He was assigned to a room and a desk, given a list of
-books and supplies to provide himself with, marched with many others
-up two flights of broad stairs and went through a calisthenic drill,
-studied awhile, and was finally released for the day, there being but
-the one session.
-
-With a light heart he set out for a stationery store and purchased
-tablets, blank-books, pencils, erasers, and all the other articles
-required. The school books he could rent, which meant a big saving to
-his pocket. He dined well, if inexpensively, and at two o’clock made
-his way to Cummings and Wright’s. Neither of the partners was in, and
-it fell to the lot of Mr. Joseph Gillig to receive him. Joe Gillig
-was the single clerk in the employ; Miss Miller, who lived behind a
-glass partition, was a cashier and bookkeeper, which, as Tom learned
-later, is quite different from being a clerk. Joe was about twenty
-years of age, tall, thin, with a long neck in which his Adam’s apple
-did marvellous things as he talked. Joe had a good-natured, homely
-countenance lighted by a pair of nice, if somewhat sleepy, brown eyes
-and marred by an incipient moustache which, to Joe’s distress, was
-coming out red.
-
-“They didn’t look for you till four,” he said in greeting. “They’re
-both out now. Want to look over the place? What you got in the bundle?”
-
-“Overalls,” replied Tom. “Mr. Cummings said I’d better bring a pair.”
-
-“Right-o! Wait till I wait on that guy and I’ll show you over the shop.”
-
-The “guy” was hard to suit in the matter of a rip-saw and Tom had
-several minutes to wait. The hardware store was rather narrow, but made
-up for that by being interminably deep. Counters ran along each side,
-set here and there with showcases. A row of supporting pillars of iron
-stretched lengthwise of the store in the middle and about them were
-clustered such articles of trade as wheelbarrows, garden hose, fire
-extinguishers, and step-ladders, for Cummings and Wright didn’t confine
-themselves to the ordinary stock of hardware. At the rear of the store
-a door led to an alley, and there was a window on each side of the
-doorway. The office was a railed-off enclosure in one corner here,
-while Miss Gertrude Miller was enshrined in a box-like structure of
-imitation mahogany and glass, into which the belts of the cash carriers
-ran and where she made change while presiding over the firm’s books.
-Tom was duly presented to Miss Miller by Joe and rather shyly shook
-hands with her. She had a good deal of red-brown hair and a pair of
-soft grey eyes and was undeniably pretty, a fact which added to Tom’s
-embarrassment, since pretty young ladies were things he had had little
-to do with. He was glad when Joe, explaining everything as he went
-along, led the way down the flight of dark stairs on the other side and
-landed him in a cellar which occupied the entire space under the store.
-Here there was a packing room at the rear, coal bins, and a heater
-whose future conduct, Tom gathered, would be under his supervision. The
-rest of the cellar held stock too heavy or bulky to keep above, except
-that at the far end, partly under the sidewalk, a good-sized room
-was partitioned off. Here Cummings and Wright conducted a plumbing,
-steam-fitting, and tinsmithing business. There was a separate entrance
-from outside, by means of a flight of iron steps, and the department
-was presided over by a small, wiry man named Jim Hobb. He had very
-black hair and the palest blue eyes Tom had ever seen. When Joe
-introduced them, Jim stopped to wipe his hands carefully on a bunch of
-very dirty waste before offering it to Tom. There was another man down
-there and a grinning youth of about Tom’s age, whose face was streaked
-and plastered with dirt and grease. His name was Petey. Tom never heard
-the rest of it. And the other man’s name was Connors.
-
-A bell in the stock room rang shrilly and Joe Gillig hurried back
-upstairs, explaining to Tom that the signal meant that a customer had
-come in. In this case, however, Joe was mistaken, for it was Mr. Wright
-who had summoned him.
-
-“Why aren’t you up here attending to things?” he demanded of Joe.
-“Anyone might come in and walk off with half the stock for all you’d
-ever know!” Then, seeing Tom, he stared doubtfully a moment and finally
-grunted as recognition came. “So you’ve turned up, eh?”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“What’s your name?”
-
-“Tom Pollock, sir.”
-
-“Colic?”
-
-“No, sir, Pollock.”
-
-“Well, what are you doing?”
-
-“Nothing yet, sir. I just got here and Mister--he was showing me
-around.”
-
-“Better get to work then. Can’t afford to pay wages to idlers.”
-
-“Yes, sir. What shall I do?”
-
-“Do? Do?” Mr. Wright got quite peevish at the question. “Do anything!
-Find something to do! That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? Seems
-to me there’s plenty to do here. You don’t see me standing around
-_looking_ for work, do you?”
-
-Tom looked doubtfully at Joe. Joe gravely winked across a counter. Mr.
-Wright, fuming to himself, hurried back to the office.
-
-“What shall I do?” asked Tom.
-
-“Oh, just get behind a counter and make believe you’re busy. He never
-knows the difference. Tell you what, though, Tom. You might take the
-stuff out of the tool case down there and clean it out. You’ll find
-dust-brush and cloths downstairs behind the packing-room door. Be
-careful not to get things mixed up. Better lay everything on top of the
-case. I’ll show you when you come up.”
-
-Mr. Cummings entered while Tom was emptying the showcase and stopped to
-shake hands with him. “Got you at work, have they?” he asked. “That’s
-right. Those cases need cleaning.” Presently, having conversed for a
-few moments with his partner, he was back again. “Did you speak to your
-uncle, son?” he inquired.
-
-“Yes, sir. He--he wasn’t willing to have me pay his bill like that.
-But of course I’m going to do it. He says that pump isn’t his; says it
-belongs to you and that you owe him for storing it.”
-
-“What!” Mr. Cummings stared and then burst into a laugh. “Well, of all
-the tight-fisted old rascals! Suppose I oughtn’t to say that before
-you, though,” he added apologetically. Tom maintained a composed
-silence. “Wants me to pay him storage, does he? By George, he certainly
-has plenty of cheek!”
-
-“He says he lugged the pump out there, and it’s your place to bring it
-back, sir. He says he notified you about it when he found it wouldn’t
-work right.”
-
-“Maybe he did,” responded Mr. Cummings grimly. “But we’ve got more to
-do than run around the country after broken machinery.”
-
-“I was wondering, sir,” said Tom, “if after I’ve paid that bill I
-couldn’t have the pump.”
-
-[Illustration: “I was wondering, sir,” said Tom, “if after I’ve paid
-that bill I couldn’t have the pump”]
-
-“Well, that’s for your uncle to say, isn’t it?”
-
-“He says it belongs to you, sir.”
-
-“I see. Well, when that bill’s paid, son, we’ll give you a clear title
-to the pump as far as we’re concerned. What did you think of doing with
-it?”
-
-“Just--just trying to sell it, sir. It ought to be worth something as
-junk, I should think.”
-
-“Hm, I suppose so. You might be able to sell it for twenty dollars or
-so if it isn’t badly out of shape. Where’s he keeping it?”
-
-“It’s under the barn. I had a look at it yesterday. It seems all right.
-I mean it isn’t rusted none. It’s all covered up.”
-
-“Did your uncle say what the matter with it was?”
-
-“N-no, sir. He said it wouldn’t work.”
-
-“Probably didn’t know how to use it. I dare say it could be fixed up
-in a jiffy. If you get it and want to sell it, you let me know. Maybe
-I can find someone to take it off your hands. Better put a couple of
-those expansion bits back on the shelf. No use showing more than one of
-them.”
-
-The store was closed at six and Tom, slipping off his blue overalls,
-went in search of supper. Afterward he sought his room and sat up
-until half-past nine studying his lessons for the morrow. When at
-last he piled into bed, he lay for some time very wide-awake with the
-unaccustomed screech and rush of passing trains and the dim hum of the
-city in his ears. Through the open window, behind the branches of the
-elm and above the distant house-tops, a half-moon was sailing. Tom, a
-trifle lonesome, wondered if Uncle Israel and Aunt Patty were missing
-him a little. He knew Star was. He wished he had Star with him here. He
-wished----
-
-Whatever else he wished was in dreams.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-TOM LOOKS AT HIS HAIR
-
-
-By the end of the week Tom had settled down into his new life. In
-the mornings he was up at half-past six and by seven-thirty had
-dressed, breakfasted, and reached the store. There, at first under the
-superintendence of Joe Gillig and later quite by himself, he swept the
-store from front to back, dusted off cases and shelves, and emptied
-waste-baskets. At first Joe helped him, but gradually he was left to
-attend to this work alone. By hurrying he was just able to finish it by
-twenty-five minutes past eight. Then he raced across the three blocks
-to the high school and arrived there usually as the gong rang. At
-half-past twelve there was a half-hour recess for lunch. The second day
-at school Tom discovered that there was a lunch room in the basement
-and that he could buy hot soup, sandwiches, coffee, milk, cake, and
-fruit at much cheaper prices than at the outside restaurants. After a
-day or two he got into the habit of eating a rather hearty breakfast
-in the cleanest of the little restaurants on Locust Street, satisfying
-his appetite at noon with a bowl of soup, a sandwich, and a glass of
-milk, and then dining after the store had closed. At three o’clock
-school was over and he was free to return to the store.
-
-There was always plenty to do there, as Mr. Wright had intimated,
-and after that first day Tom didn’t have to hunt very hard for work.
-He washed windows, ran errands, packed orders in big cases down in
-the packing room, and learned to use marking-pot and brush with some
-dexterity, replaced goods on the shelves after Mr. Wright had served
-a customer--for the junior partner never was known to put goods back
-into place again,--polished the brass railings outside the windows and
-the brass on the door, and, in short, made himself generally useful.
-Perhaps Joe Gillig imposed on him a little; Tom suspected as much; but
-Joe was always kind and patient with him and Tom liked him. Later, when
-the weather grew cold, Tom was put in charge of the hot-water heater in
-the basement, and he had to shovel coal and ashes and sift out cinders
-and trundle ash-barrels to the elevator and roll them to the edge of
-the sidewalk above. It was heavy work, a whole lot of it, and if Tom
-had not been used to heavy work he could hardly have got through with
-it. As it was, however, the only effect it had on him was to harden and
-develop his muscles and increase a naturally healthy appetite.
-
-It was that appetite that worried Tom more than anything those days.
-The second week in Amesville he conceived the idea of keeping account
-of his expenditures, and the result was disheartening. The best he
-could do was sixty-five cents a day, and that came to nearly four
-dollars a week. Add to that his fare to and from Derry and the total
-reached to almost five dollars a week! Tom’s heart sank. At such a rate
-the money he had saved would be gone some time in February! For several
-days after that he nearly starved himself trying to economise and got
-so thin and peaked-looking that even Mr. Cummings noticed it.
-
-It was Mrs. Cleary who finally solved his problem after a fashion.
-There was a friend of hers, she informed him one evening, a Mrs. Burns
-and a fine lady entirely, who had started to take table boarders in
-the next street. Mrs. Cleary thought maybe Tom would like to test
-Mrs. Burns’s hospitality. Tom went around there the next morning and
-arranged for breakfasts and suppers. In view of the fact that he would
-be away on Sundays, Mrs. Burns bargained to take him for two dollars
-and a half a week. As his lunches at school seldom cost him more than
-fifteen cents--and sometimes only ten--he stood to save at least fifty
-cents weekly by this arrangement. And Mrs. Burns set a very good table,
-as it proved. There were no dainties, but whatever she put before
-her boarders was substantial and well-cooked. Her guests were mostly
-workers around the railroad, men with big, honest appetites and table
-manners that at first shocked Tom a good deal. After he got to know
-several of the men rather well, he was quite willing to forgive them
-their lack of niceties.
-
-Every Saturday evening Tom returned to Derry. Usually either Uncle
-Israel or John Green drove to the station and met him. Then there was
-a supper that more than made up for any lack during the week. Aunt
-Patty made a special occasion of that weekly home-coming and cooked the
-things Tom best liked. Uncle Israel always greeted him as if they had
-parted at dinner time, but during the evening he always had to hear
-what had happened during the week.
-
-However, if Uncle Israel’s welcome seemed lacking in warmth, there
-was no fault to be found with Star’s, unless it was the fault of
-over-enthusiasm. Poor Star was having lonely times those days. John
-Green, himself a rather lonely, taciturn man, confided to Tom on his
-second visit home that it just made his heart ache to see how that
-there Star dog moped aroun’! Well, those end-of-the-week visits to
-the farm were pretty fine, and during the first month at least saved
-Tom from many a fit of discouragement and homesickness. After a month
-they became less imperative, for by that time he had made friends
-and, although he had but little time in which to cultivate them, the
-knowledge of them helped a good deal. He was rather surprised, in
-fact, to discover how many persons he knew in Amesville by the time
-October had reached its end. There was Joe Gillig, of course, who, in
-consideration of the disparity in the ages of the two boys, was quite
-chummy with Tom and had twice taken him to supper at the little cottage
-in Stuart’s Addition, where Joe lived with an invalid mother and an
-unmarried sister some five years his senior. They were very nice folks,
-Tom thought, and the only thing that marred the occasions of his
-visits was the overbearing and almost rude attitude of Joe toward the
-women. Tom, though, understood dimly that Joe really intended neither
-discourtesy nor unkindness; that having been the head of the little
-establishment for ten years or so was responsible for the rather harsh
-authority he assumed. And then, too, both Mrs. Gillig and Mary did
-their utmost to spoil Joe, accepting his dictates with meek admiration.
-
-And then there was Mrs. Cleary, his landlady, who mothered him in her
-good-hearted Irish way, and Dan, her husband, a big, raw-boned man with
-a voice like a fog-horn and a laugh like a young tornado. Frequently
-when Tom came home after supper he stopped downstairs and visited for
-a little while with the Clearys. The eldest son, who drove a delivery
-wagon for Miller and Tappen, was seldom there, but he made friends with
-the other children and listened to Dan Cleary’s stories of happenings
-in the railroad yard and roundhouse. It was a little bit like home, and
-when he went on upstairs to his own tiny room he felt less lonesome.
-Then, too, he made the acquaintance of two or three of the boarders
-at Mrs. Burns’s--rough, hard-working men with unlovely ways and kind
-hearts. It was about this time that Tom made a discovery that helped
-him a good deal in later years, which was that folks are very much
-alike under the skin whether they ride in carriages or drive spikes
-into railway ties.
-
-At school Tom knew a dozen boys well enough to speak to, but the fact
-that he had no time to join them in their after-school or holiday
-pursuits and pleasures kept him from forming any close friendships.
-When the others hurried away to the athletic field to play football or
-watch it, Tom plodded across to Cummings and Wright’s. But he followed
-closely and patriotically the fortunes of the Amesville High eleven,
-listened avidly to the chat of the fellows at school, and read the
-accounts of the contests with rival teams in the morning paper. Never
-having seen a football game, Tom would have liked mighty well to go
-out and look on some afternoon, but the only glimpse of football he
-got was one day when he was despatched by street car to deliver a
-forgotten tool to Steve Connors, who was doing a job of plumbing in a
-house on the north of town. The trolley car left him two blocks from
-his destination, and when he saw a crowd of boys in an open field and
-heard the shouting he correctly surmised that he had happened on the
-athletic field and the high school team in action. He delivered the
-tool to Connors and then, on his way back, joined the throng of boys
-and girls on the side lines and watched interestedly for as long as his
-conscience would let him. After ten minutes he tore himself reluctantly
-away, very much wishing himself a gentleman of leisure!
-
-And yet he did make a friend finally, and it happened in this way.
-After Tom had been with Cummings and Wright a month or so, he was
-permitted to wait on customers occasionally when the others were busy.
-Joe had initiated him into the mysteries of the cost marks and he
-had eventually got so that he could translate the puzzling letters
-that adorned every article into numerals and knew at a glance that,
-for instance “F O Z” meant that the article had cost $1.37 and that
-the following “G L Y” intimated that it was to be sold for $1.75. As
-time passed Tom became more and more a member of the selling force
-and speedily reached a degree of efficiency that made it no longer
-necessary for him to consult Joe Gillig or one of the partners before
-disposing of goods. November had passed, Tom had eaten his Thanksgiving
-dinner at the farm, the high school football team had finished a not
-too glorious season, and now, in the first week of December, a hard
-freeze had come and at school the fellows were eagerly talking skating
-and hockey. One afternoon, just as it was getting dark in the store,
-Joe called to Tom, who was marking a case in the packing room.
-
-“Tom, come up and wait on a customer, will you?” shouted Joe down the
-stairway. Mr. Cummings, Mr. Wright, and Joe were all busy when Tom
-emerged from the basement, and Joe nodded toward the front of the
-store. “See what that lady wants, Tom,” he said. “And as you come by
-switch on the lights, will you?”
-
-The lady was standing by a showcase in which Joe had just finished
-arranging a display of skates. She was quietly dressed, but Tom knew
-that such clothes cost a deal of money. She smiled in a friendly way at
-the boy as he leaned inquiringly across the counter, copying Joe’s best
-manner, and Tom decided then and there that she must be awfully nice
-and jolly. She had laid a big black muff on the case and now she moved
-it aside that she might see better what lay beneath. Then she raised
-her glance to Tom again as he asked, “Is there something I can show
-you, ma’am?”
-
-“I want a pair----” she began. Then her smile deepened and Tom thought
-afterward that she had even laughed a tiny bit. At all events, her
-subsequent remark was strangely at variance with her start, for, her
-eyes twinkling, she asked amazingly, “Does your hair still bother you?”
-
-“Ma’am!” ejaculated Tom, thinking he must have misunderstood.
-
-This time she really did laugh--a short, rippling little murmur of a
-laugh--as she answered: “I asked if your hair still bothered you. But
-it was rather an impertinent question, perhaps, so I won’t demand an
-answer.” She ended demurely, apologetically, and seemed waiting for Tom
-to say something. He had an uncomfortable but not altogether unpleasant
-sensation of being made fun of.
-
-“I--I guess I don’t just understand you,” he stammered.
-
-“Never mind,” she replied sweetly. “It’s of no consequence. I want to
-get a pair of skates, please. For a boy,” she added.
-
-“Yes’m. All-clamp?”
-
-“Goodness, are there different kinds?” she asked in a pretty dismay.
-
-“Yes’m, we have four or five kinds and they sell all the way from
-seventy-five cents to six dollars. I guess, though, you want a pair of
-half-clamp at about three dollars. Like these.” Tom opened the case
-and laid a pair of skates on the counter alongside. The lady looked at
-them doubtfully, held one up, and then thoughtfully ran it along the
-counter, shaking her head.
-
-“I think I’ll have to leave it to you,” she said, “for I know very
-little about skates, especially boys’ skates. You see, I want them for
-my boy. They were to be a Christmas present, but he’s been ill at home
-for two weeks now and the doctor has promised him he can get out of
-the house in a few days and he’s very eager to go skating. Of course
-he can’t, just right away, because he hurt his shoulder rather badly
-playing football and I suppose skating wouldn’t be good for it. But it
-seemed too bad to make him wait nearly a month for skates when the
-skating has already begun. Don’t you think so?”
-
-“Yes’m,” said Tom heartily.
-
-“That’s what I thought. So his father and I decided he should have the
-skates now. I dare say there’ll be plenty of other things he will want
-by Christmas,” she added smilingly. “Oh, I almost forgot. He wanted
-hockey skates. Are these hockey skates?”
-
-“No’m; at least, they ain’t--aren’t called hockey skates. We have
-regular hockey skates here; two kinds. They cost more, though. These
-are five dollars and a quarter and these are six.”
-
-“But they’re quite different, aren’t they?” she said perplexedly.
-
-“Yes’m. These they call tubular.”
-
-“Which are the best?”
-
-“I don’t know, ma’am. I never played hockey.”
-
-“Really? Don’t you skate, either?”
-
-“Yes’m, but I don’t have much time. I go to school from half-past eight
-to three and other times I work here.”
-
-“High school, do you mean?”
-
-“Yes’m.”
-
-“Then perhaps you know my boy?” she said eagerly.
-
-“No’m, I know him by sight, that’s all. It was too bad his getting hurt
-in that game.”
-
-“Wasn’t it? You see, it kept him out of the big game and he was quite
-heart-broken about it. Of course his father and I aren’t very happy
-when he’s playing, but Mr. Morris insists that it’s a fine thing for
-him, and Sidney himself loves it.”
-
-“I--I hope he’s getting on all right, ma’am,” said Tom.
-
-“Oh, yes, thank you, he’s doing very well. I wish you knew him. He’s
-rather a nice boy----”
-
-“Yes’m, he’s awfully popular at school.”
-
-“And,” continued Mrs. Morris smilingly, “you seem a very nice boy, too.
-I think you ought to know each other.”
-
-Tom blushed a little. “Yes’m; I mean thank you,” he murmured.
-
-Mrs. Morris laughed softly again. Tom liked that laugh of hers
-immensely, it was so sort of happy and kind and friendly. “Well,” she
-said, “we haven’t decided about the skates, have we? Perhaps the best
-thing to do is to have you send both pairs around and let Sidney take
-his choice. Could you send them this evening?”
-
-“I--I’m afraid not,” answered Tom, glancing at the clock and knowing
-that the last delivery had left the store a half-hour ago.
-
-Mrs. Morris’s face fell. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I did want him to have them
-to-night. He’s been so--so unhappy and grumpy to-day, you see. But
-perhaps I could take them myself if you did them up.”
-
-“They’d be pretty heavy,” demurred Tom. “If--if you’ll let me, I’ll
-bring them myself after I get through.”
-
-“Oh, I wouldn’t think of troubling you! We live quite a distance. I
-dare say to-morrow will do just as well.”
-
-“I wouldn’t mind doing it a bit,” said Tom eagerly. “I--I’d be glad to!”
-
-“Really? That’s very kind of you. If you’re quite certain it won’t be
-too much trouble, I’d love to have you. Besides, I want you to know my
-boy, and it will do him good to have someone of his own sort to talk to
-for a little while.”
-
-“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of going in!” declared Tom in a mild panic.
-
-“But you really must! I want you to. It’s a part of the bargain.” She
-smiled, and Tom knew right there and then that if Mrs. Morris wanted
-the moon she had only to smile at him to set him off after it! “You
-won’t fail to come, will you? Sidney would be so disappointed if you
-should. And Sidney’s mother, too,” she added as she took up her muff
-and nodded charmingly. Then, pausing on her way to the door, she turned
-a very serious face toward Tom. He was not near enough to see the
-mischievous mockery in her brown eyes. “If you don’t come,” she said,
-“I shall know that it’s your troublesome hair!”
-
-“Now, what do you suppose she meant by that?” demanded Tom of no one in
-particular, unless it was Alexander the Greater, who was approaching
-over the tops of the showcases. Alexander the Greater was a very large,
-very dignified, and very lazy maltese cat. His predecessor had been
-named Alexander the Great and so, of course, his name could only be
-Alexander the Greater. Tom absently dug his fingers in the cat’s thick
-ruff and repeated the question, “Now, _what_ do you suppose she meant
-by that?” He passed an inquiring hand over his hair and then, in spite
-of the fact that a customer had just entered and was looking vaguely
-around, he hurried to the stairway, bolted down it, switched on the
-light over the wash-bowl, and looked anxiously at his reflection in the
-cracked mirror. Except that a stray lock stood up independently on his
-crown, he could not see that his hair was different from usual or, for
-that matter, different from any other fellow’s hair--except in colour.
-He had never been particularly pleased with the colour of his hair.
-There was too much red in it. Perhaps that was it; perhaps Mrs. Morris
-had been poking sly fun at the colour of his hair. And yet---- He shook
-his head as he hurried back upstairs to do up the two pairs of skates.
-It didn’t seem as though that was just it.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-TWO PAIRS OF SKATES
-
-
-He didn’t set out for the Morrises house until nearly eight o’clock.
-They had been busier than usual in the store and had not got rid of the
-last customer until almost a quarter-past six. Then, although Tom spent
-no unnecessary time on his supper, it was way after seven by the time
-he hurried around to his room to change his clothes. It would never do,
-he assured himself, to make a call in his every-day suit! As he was
-far more particular in dressing than he had ever been before in his
-life, he made slow work of it and was horrified to find that his watch
-proclaimed the time to be twelve minutes of eight! In something of a
-panic then, he dashed downstairs and along Locust Street, the bundle
-of skates under his arm. He had meant to walk to the Morrises, but now
-it was necessary to spend a nickel and ride there by trolley car. Why,
-they might be getting ready for bed by the time he got there!
-
-He was a good deal excited. Also, he was a good deal nervous. He
-remembered reading somewhere once that when calling you were supposed
-to present your visiting card to the maid or the butler or whoever
-it was that opened the door to you. Tom had no visiting card, very
-naturally, and he wondered whether the lack of it would matter very
-much. He might explain to the maid that he had accidentally left his
-cards at home in his other suit. Then he reflected that when you
-carried visiting cards you were presumed to have more than two suits,
-and that it would be better to say that he had left the cards on his
-bureau. Then, having apologised in such fashion, he would give his name
-and ask to see Mrs. Morris. He guessed that would be all right. He
-rather hoped, though, it would be a man instead of a maid who answered
-the door. He could make his explanation more easily to a man.
-
-He wondered whether Sidney Morris would mind his coming. He hoped
-Sidney wouldn’t think he had suggested the visit. He wouldn’t think
-for a moment of forcing his acquaintance on a chap like Sidney Morris,
-who was one of the most popular and sought-after fellows in school!
-And besides, Tom reflected, the Morrises must be very well-off, and
-it didn’t seem likely that Sidney would care to have much to do with
-a fellow who worked in a store. Of course it was perfectly bully of
-Mrs. Morris to want him to know her son, but he feared that Mrs. Morris
-hadn’t stopped to consider the difference in their positions.
-
-The car seemed to crawl through town, and Tom, in a fever of impatience
-lest his visit be timed too late, glanced at his watch every two or
-three blocks. Finally, though, the conductor called Alameda Avenue and
-Tom descended. It wasn’t hard to find the Morris residence, for the
-number of the house was plainly in view on each of the round electric
-globes that flanked the gate. A short path led to a stone-pillared
-porch. The house was not so grand and impressive as he had feared it
-might be. It was of stone as to the lower story and shingles above
-and had many dormers of different sizes. But Tom didn’t have time to
-receive more than a fleeting impression of its outward appearance then,
-for a dozen strides took him to the door. There he paused a moment, in
-the soft glow of an overhead light, to rehearse his speech to the maid
-or the butler. Finally he pressed the button beside the wide doorway
-and waited. An inner door opened and Tom saw disappointedly through
-a meshed curtain that it was a woman who was answering his summons.
-But when the outer door gave way it was Mrs. Morris herself who stood
-there. In the background a maid in cap and apron hovered uncertainly
-for a minute and disappeared. Tom, in his surprise, almost recited his
-piece about the visiting cards to Mrs. Morris, and would have doubtless
-had not that lady held out her hand and taken the conduct of affairs
-at once. Before he knew it, Tom was inside, fumbling with his hat and
-holding out his bundle insistently.
-
-“I brought the skates,” he said.
-
-“That’s very nice of you. And we’ll take them upstairs in just a
-moment. First, though, I want you to meet my husband. I’ve told him
-about you.”
-
-Tom followed her across a soft-piled rug and through a wide doorway
-into a room all warmth and colour and leather chairs and book-lined
-walls and low lights. A very tall man with grey moustaches and a deep,
-pleasant voice shook hands with him, spoke of the cold weather, thanked
-him for coming, and, as Tom backed away, colliding with a table, said
-he hoped he’d see him again. Tom was glad when he was safely through
-the library doors once more, and Mrs. Morris, chatting gaily to put him
-at his ease, led the way up a wide, carpeted stairway so gradual of
-ascent that one hardly realised one was climbing. Another broad hall,
-with silvery walls hung with many unobtrusive pictures and furnished
-with easy-chairs and couches in cretonne, received him, and across this
-he followed to a doorway.
-
-“Here he is, Sid,” said Mrs. Morris. She stood aside to let Tom enter
-first. “You see,” she went on, “I can’t announce you by name because I
-don’t know what your name is.”
-
-“It’s Tom Pollock, ma’am,” stammered Tom.
-
-“Well, then, this is Tom, Sidney. And he’s brought the skates for you
-to look at. Tom, this is my son, Sidney.”
-
-The boy in the easy-chair held out his left hand. “Don’t mind my not
-getting up, do you?” he asked. “They won’t let me move around much yet.
-Glad to meet you. I think I’ve seen you over at school.”
-
-Mrs. Morris pushed forward a chair and Tom sat down, holding his hat
-very firmly and finding nothing to say just then. Sidney was already
-undoing the package, frankly eager. Mrs. Morris leaned above him
-smilingly. Tom’s eyes wandered about the room. It was certainly jolly.
-He had never seen anything at all like it, had never even imagined that
-such a room could exist. There were two recessed windows with wide,
-comfortable seats beneath them and low book-cases at each side. (Just
-the place, Tom thought, to curl up and read.) The walls were papered in
-grey and the big rug that not quite covered the floor was grey, too,
-with a broad border of dark blue. The bed, on which the clothes were
-neatly and invitingly turned down, was a sort of a grey as well, and
-the silken coverlid that lay across the foot was grey and blue. Even
-the furniture and the window curtains repeated the colours. A small
-desk near the chair in which the occupant of the splendid apartment was
-seated held books and papers and writing materials and a green-shaded
-electric light that could be twisted about in any direction and to
-any height. On the walls hung a few plainly-framed pictures, while
-above the fireplace, in which a coal fire glowed cosily, were two
-gaily-hued posters, a pair of fencing foils, crossed under a mask, and
-a yard-long photograph of a football game in progress. Beneath that, on
-the mantel, was a long row of photographs. Tom’s examination, a little
-envious by now, was interrupted by Sidney.
-
-“I say, Mumsie, they’re peaches! Gee, I don’t know which pair I want.
-What do you say, Tom?”
-
-“I--I guess I wouldn’t know which to take if it was me,” answered Tom
-shyly. “They’re both dandy, aren’t they?”
-
-“Know anything about these tubular ones?” asked Sidney. “I don’t think
-I’ve ever seen a pair before.”
-
-“They’re new,” said Tom. “They look pretty strong, though.”
-
-“They’ve got a dandy edge. I sort of think I’ll take these, Mumsie.
-Gee, I wish I could try them to-morrow! You skate, don’t you, Tom?”
-
-“Not very well.”
-
-“Ever play hockey?”
-
-Tom shook his head. “Not real hockey, I guess. We kids used to knock
-a hard rubber ball or a hunk of wood around on the ice. We had goal
-posts, too, but I suppose real hockey is--is scientific, isn’t it?”
-
-Sidney replied with enthusiasm that it certainly was. When Sidney
-was enthusiastic his brown eyes sparkled and his lean, good-looking
-face lighted up from the firm, pointed chin to the dark hair brushed
-smoothly back from the forehead. Sidney was sixteen, small-boned, and
-as lithe as a greyhound. As right end on the school eleven he had won
-laurels all season until an accident to the shoulder, that was still
-immovably bandaged, had laid him off. In baseball, too, in hockey, and,
-in fact, in all games and athletic endeavours he excelled by reason
-of a natural ability. He was the sort of boy who, if thrown into the
-water, will strike out and swim as inherently as a puppy; who if handed
-a baseball bat will swing it as knowingly as an experienced player.
-Lean, supple, and graceful, his muscles were as responsive to demands
-upon them as--well, as a kitten’s! And anyone who has watched a kitten
-at play will appreciate the simile. He had a temperament to match.
-He was ardent, impulsive, and at times quick-tempered. He possessed
-good judgment, but was liable to be biassed by his sympathies. He was
-extremely popular at school and something of a leader in the sophomore
-class. Being an only child, it was a good deal of a miracle that he had
-not been spoiled. Most of the credit was due to Mr. Morris, but much to
-Sidney himself.
-
-While Sidney was still explaining hockey, Mrs. Morris left the room.
-Only Tom saw her go, for Sidney was much too interested in his subject.
-“I’m going out for the team,” he explained. “Why don’t you try it? Even
-if you don’t make it, you’ll have a lot of fun. Why don’t you!”
-
-“I wouldn’t have time,” said Tom regretfully. “I work in Cummings and
-Wright’s after school every day.”
-
-“I forgot that. Do you like it?”
-
-“Yes, pretty well. They’re awfully nice to me there and I guess I was
-lucky to get a job with them. Of course, though, I’d like mighty well
-to--to play hockey and football and things, you see.”
-
-“That’s tough, isn’t it?” said Sidney sympathetically. “I suppose--I
-mean--well, you _have_ to do it, don’t you?”
-
-“Yes,” returned Tom. “It pays for my room. I live down on Locust
-Street, by the railroad.” He said this with just a trace of defiance
-and watched to see how Sidney would take it. Probably he wouldn’t be
-very anxious to pursue the acquaintance of a fellow who lived in such
-an unfashionable part of town. But if Sidney was shocked or surprised
-he certainly didn’t show it.
-
-“That must be pretty good fun,” he said, “living all by yourself like
-that. You don’t have to tell anyone where you’re going or anything, do
-you? And you can stay out as late as you like, too! I’d like to be able
-to do that. Say, I think you’re a plucky kid to work like you do and
-earn money. I wonder if I could if I had to?” He was silent a moment,
-turning the matter over in his mind and frowning a little. “I don’t
-believe so,” he said finally. “I guess I’d just starve to death if it
-came to earning my living!”
-
-Tom had no views on the subject and so asked about Sidney’s injury.
-
-“Doc says I can go out in three or four days. He’s a bit of an old
-granny, I think. I wish _he_ had to sit around here with his shoulder
-done up in a vise! And after I get out I’m not to use that arm for
-nearly two weeks. Hang it, by the time I can do anything they’ll have
-the hockey team all made up!” And he kicked disgustedly at the wrapping
-paper which had fallen from his knees. “A fellow was in here this
-afternoon and he said the ice was bully. Say, do you folks keep hockey
-sticks?”
-
-“No, just skates,” said Tom.
-
-“I should think you would. You’d sell a lot of them. The only place
-where you can get them is Merrill’s. Why don’t you get Cummings and
-Wright to keep them?”
-
-“I’ll speak to Mr. Cummings about it,” said Tom. “We got a lot of
-dandy--dandy--what are those things you slide down the snow on? The
-things that are like sleds without any runners?”
-
-“Toboggans? By jiminy, that’s what I’ll ask the folks to get me for
-Christmas! Some day I’ll come down and have a look at them. Are you
-generally there after school?”
-
-“Yes, unless they send me on an errand. I have to trot around a good
-deal.” Tom arose, still tightly clutching his hat. “I guess I’d better
-be going now,” he added.
-
-“Oh, hold on! Don’t go yet. It isn’t late, is it?”
-
-“It’s after nine,” said Tom.
-
-“That’s early. And you don’t have to get home until you want to.”
-
-“I--I’ve got some studying to do,” responded Tom. He really wanted to
-stay, but feared Mrs. Morris would think he was overdoing it.
-
-“Well,” said Sidney regretfully, “if you have to! Will you take this
-other pair back or shall I send them to-morrow?”
-
-“I’ll take them,” said Tom. “It’s no bother.”
-
-“All right. Tell them to charge the other pair to my father, please.
-Thanks for bringing them. And say, what are you doing to-morrow night?”
-
-“Doing? Just--just nothing particular, I guess.”
-
-“Well, can’t you drop in for awhile? I’ll do as much for you if you get
-laid up,” laughed Sidney. “I wish you would, honest! You don’t know how
-tired a fellow gets of just reading. I’ve got my lessons up to next
-week some time, I guess, and I’ve read every book in sight. Some of the
-fellows come in now and then, but they don’t want to stay more than a
-minute. I don’t blame them, though; there’s too much doing.”
-
-“I’d like to very much,” answered Tom, “if--if your mother thinks I
-ought to.”
-
-“Of course she does! Don’t you, Mumsie?” Mrs. Morris entered at that
-moment. “Don’t you think he ought to come around to-morrow evening and
-see me!” explained Sidney.
-
-“I think we’d all be very glad if he would,” responded Mrs. Morris
-kindly. “Perhaps, though, he has too much to do, dear.”
-
-“No’m, I haven’t, and I’d like to come very much.”
-
-“That’s the ticket! Come early and we’ll have a fine long chin. Say,
-Mumsie, what do you suppose he does? Works in Cummings and Wright’s and
-makes money to pay for his room and board! What do you know about that?”
-
-“I think it’s very creditable, don’t you, Sid?”
-
-“Rather! Wish I could get out and do something like that! It would be
-jolly, I should think.”
-
-Mrs. Morris smiled and patted his shoulder.
-
-“I don’t earn enough for my board, too,” corrected Tom. “Just for my
-lodging. They don’t pay me very much because I’m not there very long,
-you see. I saved up some money last summer and the summer before. My
-board comes out of that.”
-
-“Bet they don’t pay you enough,” said Sidney convincedly. “I know old
-man Wright. He’s Billy Wright’s father, you know, Mumsie. He’s a bit of
-a tightwad, I guess.”
-
-“That’s awful slang, Sid,” Mrs. Morris reproved smilingly. “I’m sure
-you don’t use slang, Tom, do you?”
-
-Tom grinned embarrassedly and Sidney chuckled. “I--I’m afraid so,
-ma’am, sometimes,” owned Tom.
-
-“I’ll bet you do! Why, say, Mumsie uses slang herself, Tom!”
-
-“Sidney!”
-
-“Yes, you do! The other day you said something was ‘the limit.’”
-
-“It was the butter we got from the new man,” laughed Mrs. Morris. “And
-it was the limit, too! Are you going to take this pair of skates, dear?”
-
-“Yes’m; and he’s going to lug the other back. I guess you’ll have to
-wrap them up, Tom. I’m not much good yet.”
-
-Tom had to lay his hat aside to do it and somehow losing hold of his
-hat seemed to increase his embarrassment. When the skates were back in
-the paper, it was with vast relief that he seized his hat once more. He
-had been aware during the operation that Mrs. Morris and her son had
-been talking together in low tones and now, when he stood up to leave,
-Sidney said:
-
-“I say, Tom, Mumsie says----”
-
-“No, Sid!”
-
-“Well, anyway----” He paused and looked appealingly at his mother. “You
-say it, Mumsie, please.”
-
-“Very well,” replied Mrs. Morris with her pleasant laugh. “Sid and I,
-Tom, want you to keep those other skates for yourself. They’re a sort
-of Christmas present from the Morris family. It’s very near Christmas,
-you know.”
-
-“He doesn’t have to wait until Christmas to use them, though, does he?”
-said Sidney. “And, I say, Mumsie, maybe he’d rather have a pair like
-mine.”
-
-“Would you?” asked Mrs. Morris.
-
-“No’m. I mean--I--I’m awfully much obliged--and thank you very
-much--but I guess I’d rather not,” stammered Tom in an ecstasy of
-embarrassment.
-
-“Don’t be a chump!” begged Sidney. “Of course you’ll take them. Why
-not? After coming all the way out here to-night and----”
-
-“That was part of my work, anyway,” said Tom. “And I wanted to come----”
-
-“But that isn’t the reason we want you to have them,” said Mrs. Morris
-sweetly. “It’s just because you’re--oh, just because you’re a nice boy
-and we like you. We do, don’t we, Sid?”
-
-“Sure,” laughed Sidney. “Say, Tom, you keep them and some day we’ll go
-out to the pond and I’ll show you how to use a hockey stick.”
-
-“Why--why, I suppose--if you really want me to have them----”
-
-“We really do, Tom,” said Mrs. Morris.
-
-“They’re pretty expensive, though,” Tom demurred anxiously. “And I’ve
-got a pair already.”
-
-“Are they as good as those?” asked Sidney.
-
-“Oh, no; they’re just a pair of wooden strap skates. They--they do very
-well, though.”
-
-“Pshaw, a fellow can’t skate with straps around his foot,” said Sidney
-contemptuously. “You just see how much better you’ll get along with
-those. If you’d rather have a pair like these, though, you can have
-them; can’t he, Mumsie?”
-
-“I’d rather keep these,” said Tom shyly, “because--because they’re the
-ones you give--gave me.” And he looked gratefully at Mrs. Morris.
-
-She clapped her hands softly. “Oh, we do like you, Tom!” she cried.
-“That was a perfect thing to say, wasn’t it, Sid?”
-
-Sidney grinned. “He’s gone on you, Mumsie.”
-
-“Sidney!”
-
-“He is, though.” He laughed across at Tom. “All the fellows fall in
-love with my mother, Tom. You can’t help it.”
-
-Tom blushed hotly, and Mrs. Morris said reprovingly: “Sid, you
-shouldn’t say such awful things, dear. Tom may not understand your fun.”
-
-“I can understand what--what he said,” muttered Tom boldly, and Sidney
-applauded by rattling the skates he held. Mrs. Morris blushed a little
-herself then.
-
-“You’re both rather awful,” she said. “And it’s about time for you to
-be thinking of bed, Sid. Come, Tom, we’ll leave him to consider his
-sins. I’ll be up again, Sid, in a few minutes.”
-
-Tom said good night to Sidney, repeating his promise to return
-to-morrow evening, and followed Mrs. Morris downstairs. At the door she
-held out her hand to him and Tom took it awkwardly.
-
-“Good night, Tom,” she said. “Thanks for coming. Sidney enjoyed your
-visit very much. And so did I. And don’t forget to come again.”
-
-“No’m, thanks. Good night, Mrs. Morris.”
-
-“Good night. And, Tom!” Tom was outside now and the door was slowly
-closing. “_Please_ don’t worry about your hair!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-TOM GAINS PROMOTION
-
-
-That was the beginning of the friendship. Sidney, who had begun being
-nice to Tom to please his mother, continued being nice to him because
-he liked him. There was an earnest, downright quality to Tom that the
-older boy was attracted by. Then when Sidney found that, in spite
-of an inclination toward unusual seriousness in one of his age, Tom
-had a perfectly good, if somewhat repressed, sense of humour, Sidney
-took to him in earnest. The boys were quite unalike in many ways.
-Sidney was small-boned, lithe, graceful, and dark. Tom was heavier,
-less finely built, and light. Sidney was impulsive, Tom deliberate.
-Both were capable of deep enthusiasms, but Tom’s were of slower birth
-and, perhaps, of longer duration. It is not unusual for boys to form
-friendships for those quite opposed to them both physically and
-mentally. In such a partnership what one lacks the other supplies. This
-explains to some extent the friendship that sprang up between Sidney
-Morris and Tom Pollock. For a week Tom believed that when Sidney was
-once more off the invalid list and free to seek the companionship of
-his old acquaintances he would see very little of him. The reverse,
-however, proved to be the case.
-
-The friendship, instead of ceasing, grew. Sidney sought Tom at the
-hardware store in the late afternoons, stamping in sweatered and coated
-with his skating boots hung from a hockey stick over his shoulder and
-his face flushed by the afternoon’s practice. Then he would perch
-himself on the edge of a counter upstairs or on a box in the packing
-room below and tell enthusiastically of the practice. Mr. Cummings
-viewed him amusedly, Mr. Wright with deep scowls. He made friends at
-once with Joe Gillig, and I’m not at all certain that duties weren’t
-neglected sometimes when the three boys got together at the back of
-the store. At least once a week, often twice, Sidney haled Tom home
-to dinner with him. At first Tom went with misgivings, but when he
-realised that both Mr. and Mrs. Morris were glad to have him, or anyone
-else that Sidney wanted, he got over his shyness and enjoyed those
-evenings immeasurably. After dinner they went up to Sidney’s room and
-talked and talked on all the thousand and one subjects dear to a boy’s
-heart. I think Sidney did most of the talking, however, which was to
-be expected since he had much more to talk about. Tom’s existence was
-rather hum-drum and few experiences or adventures fell to his lot those
-days.
-
-In school the boys saw little of each other since they were in
-different classes, but notes passed between them constantly,
-frightfully important notes making engagements for meetings after
-school or at lunch hour or containing news that couldn’t possibly
-wait to be told verbally. Of course Sidney did not give up his other
-friends, but instead of spreading his friendship over a half-dozen
-boys as he had done before, he gave most of it to Tom. They became
-inseparable. As may be expected, a good deal of fun, some good-natured
-and some malicious, was poked at the pair. Disgruntled ones called Tom
-a “hayseed” and a “Rube.” This annoyed Sidney more than it did Tom,
-however.
-
-“I don’t mind,” he would say calmly. “I guess that’s what I am,
-anyway.”
-
-“I’d like one of them to say that to me,” said Sidney warmly. “I’d
-punch him!”
-
-Tom did not get the promised instruction in hockey that winter, for the
-reason that he never could find an opportunity to go with Sidney to the
-pond. Neither did he have a chance to see the hockey team in action.
-But he heard all about it from Sidney, who had gained a much-coveted
-position on it, and mourned with his chum over defeats and triumphed
-with him over victories; and the two were very evenly apportioned that
-year.
-
-Meanwhile, Christmas came and went, and the New Year was rung in. The
-holiday season made a deal of hard work for Tom, for the store kept
-open every evening until Christmas and more than once he was forced to
-delay his departure for Derry until Sunday morning. Christmas Day was
-spent at home. He had purchased small gifts for everyone, including
-Star, who got a new collar, and he received presents from all. Uncle
-Israel gave him a five-dollar gold-piece, a deed of generosity as
-surprising as it was welcome to Tom. Sidney had thrust a small parcel
-into Tom’s hand the day before, and when Tom opened it Christmas
-morning he found a pretty gold stick-pin set with a topaz that,
-although he didn’t realise it, was exactly the colour of some of the
-big freckles that adorned his nose! In the afternoon he took his skates
-down to the creek and joined the merry throng of boys and girls. It
-was the first time he had tried the skates and they proved wonderful,
-besides being objects of envy to the other fellows. Jim Billings, whose
-father Tom had worked for last summer, remarked sneeringly after an
-examination of the new skates, that “Tom Pollock was gettin’ mighty
-stuck-up since he’d gone to the city!”
-
-The next evening Tom accompanied Sidney home and stayed to dinner and
-saw the big Christmas Tree that was strung with tiny electric lights
-of white and red and blue. And Sidney showed him all his presents, and
-there was a whole big lot of them, too, Tom thought. One of them was
-the toboggan that Sidney had expressed a wish for and another was a
-little easel calendar in red paper that looked something like leather
-if you didn’t get too close to it. Sidney told Tom, with an arm over
-his shoulders, that it was “just bully” and that he liked it better
-than almost anything he’d got. The calendar was Tom’s modest gift.
-
-After New Year’s life settled down again into the old manner. Tom
-studied hard at school and worked hard at the store, but he enjoyed
-both. Having a friend like Sidney had done away with loneliness and he
-no longer spent solitary evenings in his room. Once in a while Sidney
-came down to Locust Street, but usually Tom went to Sidney’s house. His
-comings and goings there were now matters of no comment. Mr. and Mrs.
-Morris always greeted him warmly and made him feel at home and free
-to come and go as he liked. Sometimes another fellow would drop in,
-sometimes two or three, and they had very merry times up in Sidney’s
-room. But Tom liked best the evenings when Sidney and he were alone.
-Several of the boys he had met through Sidney he liked very much, but
-he was apt to feel rather shy and constrained when they were around.
-Very often Mrs. Morris joined them for a few minutes, much to the
-pleasure of Tom, who still secretly adored her. Once, a month or so
-after their first meeting, he asked Sidney what he supposed his mother
-meant by her frequent allusions to his hair.
-
-“She’s always telling me not to trouble about it,” said Tom, mystified.
-“I suppose she’s just sort of making fun about it because it’s red.”
-
-“I don’t call it red,” answered Sidney. “It’s a dandy colour. You never
-know what Mumsie has in her head when she says things like that. She’s
-always having little jokes to herself. She’s funny.”
-
-“She’s terribly nice,” said Tom. “And--and she’s the prettiest lady in
-Amesville, too, Sid.”
-
-“You bet she is!”
-
-One February morning, when Tom had trudged through a raging blizzard to
-the high school only to learn when he reached it that the “no school”
-whistle had blown a half-hour before, he decided to keep on to Sidney’s
-house. It was a good mile out there from the school and the wind and
-snow were cutting up high jinks, but Tom scorned the trolley cars, not
-altogether from motives of economy, and walked, fighting every step of
-the way. When he reached the Morrises the maid told him that Master
-Sidney had just gone downtown. Tom was turning away when Mrs. Morris
-appeared and insisted on his coming in.
-
-“Sid won’t be more than a half-hour,” she said. “He went in to get
-something for his wireless set.” (A wireless receiving set had been
-amongst his Christmas presents and both he and Tom were greatly
-interested in it.) “Come in and get warm, Tom.” Then, seeing his
-condition, “Why, Tom Pollock!” she exclaimed. “I believe you walked!”
-
-“Yes’m, I did,” answered Tom apologetically.
-
-“Of all things on a day like this!” Mrs. Morris shook her head
-hopelessly. “Well, boys have no sense, anyway. Now take that coat right
-off and---- And no overshoes, either! Tom Pollock, you ought to be
-spanked and put to bed!”
-
-“Yes’m,” agreed Tom sheepishly.
-
-Five minutes later, divested of his wet clothes and chastely attired
-in a voluminous bath-robe of Mr. Morris’s, he was toasting in front of
-a big fire in the library and drinking beef tea that Mrs. Morris made
-by dropping a mysterious dark-brown tablet into a cup of hot water. It
-was very nice, and its effect, or perhaps the combined effects of the
-hard tussle with the blizzard and the warmth of the fire, was to make
-Tom feel delightfully drowsy and comfortable. When, presently, he had
-finished the beef tea and Mrs. Morris had returned from bearing away
-the empty cup, an unwonted boldness came to him.
-
-“I wish,” he said as Mrs. Morris sank into a chair at the other side of
-the hearth, “I wish you’d tell me, please, what’s the matter with my
-hair.”
-
-She looked at it concernedly. Tom, however, saw the laughter in her
-eyes. “Is it bothering you again, Tom?” she asked. “I’m so sorry!”
-
-“It--it don’t bother me at all,” he responded desperately. “Only you’re
-all the time telling me not to let it! Is it just because it’s red?”
-
-Then Mrs. Morris laughed deliciously. “No, Tom, it isn’t,” she said. “I
-suppose I’ve been horribly mean to tease you about it, haven’t I?”
-
-“I didn’t mind,” Tom assured her earnestly. “Only--I wondered what it
-was. I asked Sid and he said he guessed it was just one of your jokes.”
-
-“Of course it was; a rather silly one, too, Tom. Do you remember
-stopping one day in front of Sewall’s jewelry store and looking in a
-mirror?”
-
-“No’m, I don’t think so.” Tom shook his head.
-
-“It was away last summer--or early in the fall, Tom. You looked in the
-mirror and frowned and then you took off your hat and smoothed your
-hair. And then you nodded at yourself quite satisfied and looked up and
-caught me smiling at you. Don’t you remember now?”
-
-“Yes’m.” Tom laughed shamefacedly.
-
-“You scowled at me terrifically,” went on Mrs. Morris. “It amused me
-because I thought I knew just how you felt at being caught primping.
-And then when I saw you in Cummings and Wright’s that time I recognised
-you at once and thought I’d have a little fun with you. So I asked
-about your hair. That’s all there is to it. As to your hair being red,
-why, it isn’t; not really red, you know. It’s a perfectly wonderful
-shade and I wish I had it, Tom!”
-
-Tom thought her own soft brown hair infinitely more lovely and
-becoming, but he didn’t say so. He only grinned.
-
-“Are you terribly angry with me?” she went on smilingly.
-
-“No’m.” Tom shook his head again. “I--I guess I sort of liked it!”
-
-Then Sidney burst in, laden with packages, and dragged Tom upstairs to
-witness the installation of a new detector.
-
-At the store Tom had been making strides. As yet there had been no
-mention of a raise in wages; he was still receiving his two dollars
-a week and being credited with fifty cents against the price of the
-pump; but he had progressed wonderfully. To be sure, he still swept
-and washed windows and ran an occasional errand, but he was at last a
-real clerk when those duties did not engage his attention. It had begun
-when Tom had acted on Sidney’s suggestion and explained to Mr. Cummings
-that it might be a good plan to keep hockey sticks as well as skates.
-Mr. Cummings had fallen in with the idea at once and had ordered
-the sticks. Unfortunately they had proved, on arrival, to be rather
-inferior and purchasers had objected to them.
-
-“Well,” said Mr. Cummings when Tom reported the matter, “you find
-out what make of stick the boys want and let me know. This is your
-undertaking, Tom.”
-
-So Tom found out where the best hockey sticks were made and a new
-consignment was ordered. Gradually pucks and all the paraphernalia of
-hockey were added and, in some way, the sale of those things became
-Tom’s especial task. Boys who came for skates or sticks or leg-guards
-or pucks sought him out and didn’t want to be waited on by anyone else.
-Mr. Cummings laughingly referred to “Tom’s Department.” But “Tom’s
-Department” made such a good showing by the middle of the winter that
-Mr. Cummings was both surprised and gratified. After that Tom had only
-to list an article wanted and Mr. Cummings sent in the order at once.
-There was no question as to the advisability of carrying it.
-
-The last of February, Joe Gillig caught a heavy cold and took to bed
-with congestion of the lungs, and Tom suddenly found himself elevated
-temporarily to the position of clerk. Mr. Cummings was at first
-inclined to look for someone to take Joe’s place while he was out, but
-Mr. Wright objected. “Let Tom do his work for him,” he said. “I guess
-he can sell nails as well as Joe.” Mr. Cummings agreed doubtfully,
-and for three weeks Tom was exempt from window washing, sweeping, and
-errands. At first he was a trifle alarmed at the new responsibility,
-but he got on perfectly well, and Mr. Cummings was forced to agree
-with his partner that Tom could “sell nails as well as Joe.” At the
-end of the fortnight he even went further than that and acknowledged
-that Tom promised to become in time a much better salesman than Joe.
-For Tom took a great deal of pains to please customers; and those who
-looked askance at him at first on account of his youthfulness and
-showed a preference for being waited on by one of the partners soon
-changed their minds. Tom was somehow able to take a personal interest
-in the wants of even the humblest patron and forked out two pounds
-of ten-penny nails with as much care and attention as he would have
-displayed in filling a hundred-dollar order. If a customer wanted
-an article not in stock and which Tom believed he could obtain from
-another store, he did not, as Joe would have done, carelessly inform
-the purchaser that they were out of it. Tom said: “We haven’t that in
-just now, sir, but I’ll see that you have it this afternoon, if that
-will do. Where shall I send it?” Then at dinner time Tom scurried
-around to one or another of the rival stores, found the article, paid
-for it, and sent it out on the afternoon delivery. The first time he
-did this he presented his bill to Miss Miller and was reimbursed. Not
-long afterward Mr. Wright came across the item and made inquiries. Tom
-was called in to explain. “But what’s the use of doing a thing like
-that?” inquired Mr. Wright irritably. “You paid eighty-five cents for
-the thing and sold it at eighty-five cents. Where does the profit to us
-come in, young man?”
-
-“There isn’t any profit, sir,” Tom answered. “But the customer gets
-what he wants, sir. It doesn’t cost us anything and maybe we keep the
-man’s trade. If we tell him we’re out of a certain thing, he might go
-to Bullard’s or Stevens and Green’s for it and keep on going there.”
-
-Mr. Wright said “Humph!” and rattled a pen-holder. Mr. Cummings,
-however, nodded. “You’re right, Tom,” he said. “That’s well reasoned.
-You evidently think it pays to please your customers, eh?”
-
-“Yes, sir; don’t you?” asked Tom innocently.
-
-“I do.” Mr. Cummings smiled. “But lots of employés don’t, son. You
-keep on with that notion. It’s a good one. And whenever you can find
-something at another store that we haven’t got you get it. Have them
-make out a bill for it and get your money from Miss Miller. That right,
-Horace?”
-
-“I guess so,” answered Mr. Wright. “Seems to me, though, we’d ought to
-have the thing and not be buying from other hardware stores.”
-
-“Bless us, we can’t keep everything folks ask for! Nobody can. But, as
-Tom here says, there’s no need to let folks know it!”
-
-It was a day or two later that Tom was again summoned to the office in
-a slack period. Mr. Cummings was there alone.
-
-“Sit down a minute, Tom,” he said. “I want to talk about that
-department of yours. It’s done pretty well this winter. Did you know
-it?”
-
-“I thought maybe it had,” answered Tom modestly. “I know we sold a good
-deal, sir.”
-
-“We certainly did. And the profits in those goods are high, too. Now,
-look here, why don’t we go into the thing in earnest? I’ve talked
-to Mr. Wright about it and he’s agreeable. Why not put in a regular
-sporting goods department, eh? Aren’t there lots of things boys use in
-summer as well as winter?”
-
-“Oh, yes, sir! You see, they’ll begin playing baseball pretty soon;
-and golf, too, although I don’t know if there’s much of that played
-around here.”
-
-“Of course there is! There are three clubs within ten miles of town.
-What else?”
-
-“I guess that’s all, sir, in summer, isn’t it?”
-
-“You ought to know better than I, son. Well, could we sell bats and
-balls and golf things, do you think?”
-
-“I don’t see why not,” replied Tom eagerly. “I’m sure the high school
-fellows would get their things here if they knew we kept them.”
-
-“We’ll advertise then. We’ll announce in the papers that we’ve added a
-sporting goods department, eh?”
-
-“Yes, sir, and I think it would pay to put a small advertisement in the
-_Brown-and-Blue_.”
-
-“That’s the school paper?”
-
-“Yes, sir, the monthly. Fellows would be sure to see it and, besides,
-they like to trade with firms who--who patronise the paper.”
-
-“All right, we’ll do that, too. Now I’m going to put this up to you,
-Tom. You take right hold. Get in touch with the dealers, get their
-catalogues, find out their trade prices and make up a list of what we
-want to start out with. I wouldn’t go in very heavy as to quantity just
-at first. We’ll find out how we stand, I guess, before we plunge very
-deep. But get a good assortment of stuff.”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“All right. Now, another thing. After the first of next month you do
-nothing but sell, Tom. We’ll get someone to look after the windows and
-sweep up. Of course you’ll help Joe in the packing room, just as now,
-but you’ll be a salesman instead of a--well, general utility man!”
-
-“I--I’d like that, sir,” said Tom.
-
-“Of course you would. You’ll have the sporting goods under your
-management, son, and we’ll see if we can’t make them pay. Of course we
-expect to make you a small raise, Tom. I haven’t talked that over with
-Mr. Wright yet, but I’ll let you know in a few days. We can’t increase
-your wages much just yet, but if you make good we’ll be fair with you.”
-
-“Thank you, Mr. Cummings. I--I’ll do my best.”
-
-“That’s right. Do your best, Tom, and you’ll get on. It’s the boy who
-does his best all the time that won’t stay down, son. Just as it’s
-the fellow who tries to get along by giving his employers as little
-as possible who never moves up. Remember that. Now you get busy and
-get your orders in. You can have two sections of shelves on the left
-of the door down there for your goods, and the cases in front. If you
-have to have more space, I guess we can find it. There’s a lot of that
-builders’ hardware that would be better placed back here, I guess.
-Well, that’s all. Let me hear what you learn and keep me posted as to
-how things are going. But don’t bother me with questions, son. This is
-your affair. Make it go.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-AN OUT-CURVE
-
-
-The new department started up the last week in March, and none too
-soon. It had been a hard, cold winter, but its very severity seemed
-to wear it out along toward the first of that month and a succession
-of spring-like days turned boys’ thoughts toward baseball. The
-advertisement had appeared in the March issue of the _Brown-and-Blue_
-and the daily papers had made announcement of the fact that Cummings
-and Wright had installed the most thorough, up-to-date sporting goods
-department to be found in the state. This was perhaps an exaggeration,
-but advertisements are prone to exaggerate. It was a pretty thoroughly
-stocked department, though. Tom had been both surprised and a little
-alarmed when the catalogues from dealers and manufacturers had reached
-him. There were so many, many more things to be purchased than he
-had dreamed of! He had begun a list and then stopped appalled by the
-magnitude of the order and the size of the total cost, and had gone to
-Mr. Cummings in perturbation.
-
-“How much? Over four hundred dollars?” asked Mr. Cummings. “Can we sell
-the things if we get them?”
-
-“Why, yes, sir; I hope so. I think so. I don’t see why----”
-
-“Then get them.”
-
-And Tom got them, and the grand total of the investment was not four
-hundred dollars, or a little over, but nearly six hundred! And for a
-week or so poor Tom woke up at night bathed in a cold perspiration
-after a nightmare in which he saw himself buried under a deluge of
-sporting goods that no one would buy! It was an anxious time at first.
-Tom viewed the crowded shelves and showcases and felt his heart sink,
-for six hundred dollars seemed a frightfully large sum of money to
-him and he was constantly wondering whether the firm would be able to
-survive if the goods didn’t sell! He need not have worried about that,
-but he didn’t know it then.
-
-He had put in a line of baseball goods that was as complete as it was
-possible to have it. There were bats of all grades and prices, balls,
-masks, gloves, mitts, chest protectors, base-bags, score-books, and
-a dozen lesser things, all more or less necessary for the conduct of
-the national pastime. But baseball goods were only a part of that
-stock. Golf made its demands as well, although Tom had held back there
-somewhat, and the wants of the tennis enthusiast had to be provided
-for. Then the captain of the high school track team had asked about
-running shoes and attire, and Tom had supplemented his first order.
-There seemed, in short, no end to what he must buy and keep in stock if
-Cummings and Wright’s was really to have a fully equipped department.
-And Tom groaned at the thought of what would happen when autumn came
-and he had to think of football goods! Already he had been forced to
-ask for a third section of shelves!
-
-But Mr. Cummings appeared quite untroubled, and so Tom dared to hope.
-Even Mr. Wright seemed undismayed by the crowded shelves and took an
-unusual interest in the goods, pulling them out of place--and leaving
-them out, too--asking questions as to purpose and price and trying Tom
-sorely at busy times. And then, quite suddenly, his fears vanished.
-A Saturday morning came and, as it seemed to the anxious manager of
-the sporting goods department (that was Joe’s title for him), half of
-juvenile Amesville poured into the store. Tom was busy that day; busy
-and happy! Many of the boys came only to look and covet, but there
-were plenty of sales for all that and the day’s total footed up to
-forty-three dollars. After that Tom ceased worrying and within a week
-was sending more orders. The manager of the baseball team came to him
-and asked prices on new uniforms for the players. He found Tom at a
-loss, but a reference to catalogues soon put him in position to talk
-business and in the end, not then, but three days later, he began to
-take orders. Every fellow on the team had to buy and pay for his own
-uniform and, as Cummings and Wright’s had been declared the proper
-place to purchase--Tom having made a special price on an order of nine
-or more suits--the fellows soon began putting their names down. Grey
-shirts and trousers and caps, brown and blue striped stockings, and
-grey webbed belts comprised the outfit and the price was four dollars
-and a quarter. At first one or two fellows who had last year’s suits in
-good preservation held off, but Spencer Williams, the manager, bullied
-them, and, when Tom displayed one of the outfits in the window, they
-fell into line. There was scant profit on those outfits, but Tom called
-it “good business” and was satisfied.
-
-As complete as the stock was, Tom was continually having demands for
-things he hadn’t got. As when a fussy, grey-whiskered little gentleman
-came in and demanded “an aluminum putter.” Poor Tom didn’t know what
-an aluminum putter was, but he didn’t say so. Instead he regretted the
-fact that he couldn’t supply one just then and ended, after the fussy
-gentleman had fussed to his heart’s content, by taking the customer’s
-order for one. Later he dipped into a catalogue and found it listed.
-But Tom’s way made a friend of the golfer and he was a constant and
-heavy purchaser of balls and clubs after that.
-
-Later on orders came in frequently by mail from the towns around,
-proving that the department had acquired more than a purely local
-fame. In Amesville the grammar school boys followed the lead of their
-older brothers in most things and they were quick to emulate them in
-patronising Cummings and Wright’s. Cummings and Wright’s, in fact,
-received from the high school a sort of official recognition. It was
-the first of the hardware stores to advertise in the school monthly,
-although another dropped into line later, and the students, following
-the _Brown-and-Blue’s_ slogan, “Patronise our advertisers,” quickly
-adopted it as a place to make purchasers of not only athletic goods,
-but other supplies as well. Boys became so accustomed to going there
-that by the middle of spring the store was a general meeting-place, a
-sort of high-school headquarters. It was Sidney who first suggested to
-Tom that the latter offer to post school notices in the window. After
-that, and more especially when the athletic activities were at their
-height, one could always find one or more bulletins pasted against the
-glass there, such as, “A. H. S. B. A. Practice to-day at three-thirty
-sharp. No cuts.” Or, “A. H. S. T. T. Candidates for the Track Team
-report at four o’clock Wednesday.” Following up this idea, Tom began
-posting the scores of the baseball games throughout the country, both
-professional and collegiate.
-
-Mr. Cummings had had a carpenter divide the window at the right of the
-doorway in two with a neat oak panel and Tom had some twenty-five
-square feet of space therein in which to display his goods. At first
-Joe Gillig dressed the window for him, for Tom doubted his own ability,
-but presently the latter did it himself and managed to make a far more
-attractive display than Joe by not crowding his goods and by confining
-each week the display to some one branch of sport or some one article
-in variety.
-
-When, as happened late in the spring, a sporting goods house in the
-East sent a demonstrator to exhibit a home exercising outfit in the
-window, the store and Tom’s department in particular received a
-whole lot of free advertising from the papers, while the crowds that
-assembled daily to watch the good-looking young athlete in the window
-go through his motions with the exerciser made many other merchants
-along Main Street green with envy. But this was in May, and several
-things happened before that that should be set down here.
-
-Tom had hardly hoped for a raise of more than one dollar in his weekly
-wages and so when Mr. Cummings duly announced to him that beginning
-with the first day of April his salary would be just doubled Tom’s
-surprise was even greater than his delight.
-
-“It don’t seem as if I was worth that much yet, sir,” he said
-doubtfully. “It isn’t as if I was here all day, you see.”
-
-“Tom,” replied Mr. Cummings, “at the risk of giving you what you
-youngsters call a swelled head, I’m going to tell you that in the four
-or five hours you are here you do about as much work as a good many
-clerks in this town do all day. Besides, we’re paying you, partly, for
-that sporting-goods idea of yours. It was a mighty good idea and it
-made money for us, and I guess it’s going to make more. Besides that,
-son, you want to remember that summer is coming after awhile and that
-summer is a pretty busy season with us. Then you’ll be here all day and
-you can make up any time you think you may be owing us.”
-
-“Well, it’s awfully good of you,” said Tom gratefully. “And I guess
-you’d better keep out a dollar now instead of fifty cents toward that
-pump. I won’t need the whole five dollars,” he added in rather awed
-tones. Five dollars a week seemed a veritable fortune to him just then,
-for of late his resources had been getting smaller and smaller and he
-had begun to wonder if he would ever get through the spring.
-
-Meanwhile, he had made many acquaintances and some friends. At high
-school he was a person of prominence. The older boys admired his
-pluck and industry and liked him for his quiet, contained manner, his
-cheerfulness, and his unfailing good-nature. The younger chaps frankly
-envied him because he was at home amongst such a raft of captivating
-things; bats and balls and mitts and rackets and running shoes and all
-the objects coveted by a small boy--and many a large one. Besides Tom
-himself, and, naturally, the partners in the firm, I think the person
-who took the most interest in the sporting goods department of Cummings
-and Wright’s was Sidney Morris. Sidney had watched and advised and
-even helped unpack the goods and arrange them on the shelves and in
-the cases, and all the time had been filled with a fine enthusiasm and
-optimism. Sidney jeered at the idea of failure and bewailed the fate
-that kept him from taking his place beside Tom behind the counter.
-
-“I’ll just bet anything I could sell goods,” he declared enviously.
-“Do you suppose Mr. Cummings would give me a place this summer, Tom?”
-
-“Why, you’ll be going to the Lakes,” said Tom. “You told me just the
-other day that you would.”
-
-Sidney scowled. “I won’t if I can get out of it,” he said. “I’d a heap
-rather stay here in town and help you. I wonder if Dad would let me!”
-
-Handling the goods he did, it is not to be wondered at that Tom grew
-interested in athletic sports and events. Although he had never
-witnessed a baseball game, save such impromptu affairs as he had
-participated in with his mates at the country school, when the home
-plate was a flat rock stolen from the stone wall and the bases were
-empty tin cans or blocks of wood, nor seen an athletic meeting, nor
-had more than the haziest notion of what one did with a golf club, he
-nevertheless developed a keen interest in all these things and perused
-the sporting news in the papers with a fine devotion. At least he could
-talk understandingly about baseball and track and field sports, which
-was a handy thing, since the group of boys who got into the habit of
-meeting at the sporting goods counter in Cummings and Wright’s were
-forever thrashing over those subjects. I don’t mean that he offered
-opinions unsolicited, for that wasn’t Tom’s way. Nor did he ever affect
-knowledge he didn’t possess. When he didn’t understand a subject he
-let it alone. If appealed to on a point beyond him, he acknowledged
-his ignorance. The result was that when he did say anything fellows
-listened to him respectfully, and it came to be a settled conviction
-that if Tom Pollock said a thing was so, why, it was so!
-
-It was the one big regret of Tom’s life in those days that he was not
-able to go out with the others and take part in their sports. He’d
-liked to have tried for the ball team, and seen what he could do over
-the hurdles or grasping a vaulting pole or putting one of the big
-iron shots. He’d even have liked to play golf! And all he knew about
-golf was that you hit a small white ball with a cruelly large-headed
-club, why or where to being beyond him! The nearest compensation came
-in the evenings after a hastily-eaten supper. Then he and Sidney, and
-sometimes a third or fourth fellow, took bat and ball to the vacant lot
-near Sidney’s house and had a fine time as long as the spring twilight
-lasted. Tom had gone to the extravagance of purchasing for himself a
-catcher’s mitt at wholesale price, and Sidney, who played left field
-on the high school team that spring and fancied himself a bit as a
-pitcher, would station Tom against the tumble-down fence and “put ’em
-over” to him. Sidney had more speed than skill, though, and Tom had
-lots of exercise reaching for wild ones. It was good practice, however,
-for Sidney and much fun for Tom. When other chaps showed up one of
-them would bat flies or grounders to the rest. Sometimes enough boys
-were present to permit of what they called “fudge,” each taking his
-turn at fielding, playing first base, pitching, catching, and batting.
-Tom’s enthusiasm for a recreation in which the rest might indulge at
-almost any time but which was forbidden to him, save at infrequent
-times, worked for proficiency and it wasn’t long before he could knock
-up high flies or crack out hot liners as unerringly as the best. As
-for fielding, he soon acquired quite a local reputation, a fact which
-helped him in a business way, adding, as it did, to the authority on
-athletic affairs already popularly bestowed upon him.
-
-It was when he and Sidney were pitching and catching one evening that
-something occurred which had a far more important effect on Tom’s
-fortunes--and, for that matter, on the fortunes of the Amesville High
-School Baseball Team--than either of the boys could have imagined in
-their wildest dreams. They happened to have the lot to themselves that
-evening, none of the other fellows having shown up, and Sidney had
-been thudding the ball against Tom’s glove for some time. After every
-delivery Tom would return the ball at an overhand toss, as Sidney
-had instructed him to do. Presently, however, after a wild pitch had
-escaped him and he had had to chase back of the fence for it, he called
-to Sidney:
-
-“Sid, here you go. Watch my curve!”
-
-Twisting his fingers around the ball as he had seen Sidney do times
-innumerable, he shot the ball away. He had no more expected the ball
-to really curve than he had expected it to take wings and go over the
-house-tops. But it did curve, most palpably! Moreover, it settled into
-Sidney’s outstretched bare hands with such speed that Sidney, not
-prepared, promptly dropped it and shook a stinging palm.
-
-“Where’d you get on to that?” he inquired in surprise. “That was a
-peach of an out! Here, give me another.” And Sidney trotted to the
-fence. “Toss me your mitt.”
-
-Pleasurably surprised, Tom walked down to the trampled spot where
-Sidney had stood and tried again. He tried many more times, in fact,
-and all to no purpose. The ball went swiftly enough, but it went
-perfectly straight, and all Tom’s efforts to make it repeat its former
-erratic flight were in vain.
-
-“That’s funny, isn’t it?” he asked breathlessly at last. “It curved
-before all right. You saw it, didn’t you? Why doesn’t it do it now,
-Sid?”
-
-“Oh, you probably don’t hold it the same way. Try again.”
-
-Tom tried until he was out of breath and every muscle in his arm ached,
-and all to no purpose except to amuse Sidney.
-
-By that time it was too dark to see well and he gave it up for the
-time. When Sidney joined him he was frowning accusingly at the ball.
-
-“I’ll make you do it again,” muttered Tom, “if I have to keep at it all
-summer. You just see if I don’t!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-TOM WANTS TO KNOW
-
-
-The next evening they were at it again. Sidney was able to pitch an
-out-curve and a drop and had besides what he called his “slow ball.”
-The latter, however, didn’t differ much, so far as Tom could see,
-from any other ball. Besides, Sidney’s slow ball was an uncertain
-affair since it didn’t always materialise when he expected it to. Of
-course Sidney was willing and even eager to show Tom what he knew,
-but, unfortunately, Sidney didn’t know a great deal about the art of
-pitching a baseball, and what he did know he found it very difficult
-to expound. He showed Tom how to hold his fingers around the ball to
-deliver an out-curve, but as the “snap” and the “follow-through” have
-an immense effect on the ball’s flight, Tom’s efforts weren’t very
-successful. Still, he did manage, after awhile, to impart an out-curve
-to the ball and got so he could do it perhaps four times out of ten.
-The other times the ball generally went wild. Sidney tried to tell him
-about the motion of his arm and letting the ball slide off the tips of
-the first two fingers, but Sidney wasn’t very clear in his own head as
-to the philosophy of it, and so made a poor teacher. When Tom’s arm was
-tired, Sidney took his place and practised his slow ball with no great
-success and afterward tried to fathom the intricacies of the in-curve.
-This, though, was too much for him.
-
-“I’m going to get Thorny Brooks to show me how to do it,” he said
-finally. “He’s got a dandy in-shoot. You ought to see him pitch, Tom.”
-
-“I’d like to,” Tom answered. “Maybe some day when you’re playing a game
-I’ll get out and see it. I wish I could play, Sid.”
-
-“I know. It’s too bad you can’t. You’d make a good player, I’ll bet.
-You can field and bat better than two or three fellows on the team
-right now. I don’t suppose Cummings and Wright would let you off in the
-afternoon, would they?”
-
-“Then I wouldn’t be there at all,” laughed Tom. “When do you fellows
-play your first game?”
-
-“About two weeks from now. First games don’t amount to much, though;
-they’re only practices. You wait till we tackle Lynton High or
-Petersburg. Then you’ll see real games!”
-
-They went back through the twilight, passing the ball between them as
-they walked, Sidney progressing backward and having several narrow
-escapes from colliding with poles, hydrants, and pedestrians. Afterward
-they sat on the front steps until the chill of evening drove them
-upstairs to Sidney’s room. Then they “wirelessed,” taking turns at
-examining each other on the Continental code with tablet and pencil and
-then ticking off on the practice key:
-
-“Dash, dot, dash, dot, pause, dot, dash, pause, dash, dot, pause, dash,
-dot, dash, dash, pause, dash, dash, dash, pause, dot, dot, dash, pause,
-dot, dash, dash, dot, pause, dot, dot, pause, dash, pause, dash, dot,
-dash, dot, pause, dot, dot, dot, dot, pause, dot, dash, pause, dash,
-dot, pause, dash, dash, dash, pause, dot, dot, dash, pause, dash,
-pause, dot, dot, dot, pause, dot, dot, dot, dot, pause, dash, dash,
-dash, pause, dash, dash, dash, pause, dash, pause, dot, dot, dash,
-dash, dot, dot.”
-
-But Tom, who was listening to the clicking key, was unusually stupid
-this evening. I think his mind was more on pitching a baseball than on
-telegraphy. He frowned uncertainly.
-
-“‘Can you pinch’ something,” he said. “I didn’t get it.”
-
-“‘Pitch,’ you chump! ‘Can you pitch an out-shoot?’”
-
-“Oh! Dash, dot--dash, dash, dash!”
-
-Sidney laughed. “No! Here, you try me.”
-
-At ten o’clock they performed the regular procedure of getting the time
-and then Tom said good night and walked home through the quiet streets,
-briskly because the evenings were still chill, thinking much of the way
-about that elusive out-curve!
-
-The next day he searched through the pile of little paper-clad volumes
-of the Athletic Library which were a part of his stock at the store and
-was lucky enough to find “How to Pitch a Base-Ball.” In the interims of
-waiting on customers he studied the book. But it didn’t seem just what
-he wanted. He got a ball and followed the directions given for holding
-it, alternately frowning over the text and his fingers, and wished
-he might pitch it and see what would happen. After awhile he quietly
-stole down to the basement, switched on the lights, and let drive at
-the partition that hid the plumbing shop. If the ball curved he didn’t
-discern it. What he did discern was Jim Hobb’s black head stuck through
-the doorway in the partition and Jim’s incensed countenance.
-
-“Hi! What in thunder are you doing, Tom?”
-
-“I threw a baseball.”
-
-“Well, you knocked a wrench off the shelf and nearly bust my hand open.
-You get out of here with your baseballs!”
-
-Tom recovered the ball and returned upstairs disappointedly to find
-Mr. Wright fuming and fussing because Tom had left the counter and two
-small boys wanted to buy a catcher’s mitt.
-
-But that evening, after depositing a dime in the firm’s treasury as
-the price of the handbook, Tom took “How to Pitch a Base-Ball” to
-supper with him, propped it against the sugar-bowl and, since the other
-boarders had gone and he had the dining-room to himself, studied it
-assiduously from soup to pie. So eager was he to practise the book’s
-teachings that he took a car out to Alameda Avenue, instead of walking,
-and haled Sidney at once to the vacant lot, exhibiting the volume on
-the way. Sidney was not greatly impressed with it.
-
-“I don’t believe you can learn how to pitch out of a book,” he said
-pessimistically. “You have to--to just keep trying.”
-
-“Of course you do, but you’ve got to know how to hold the ball, haven’t
-you? This tells you how to do that, all right, only it isn’t very
-plain. I thought if you’d read what it said, I’d try and do it. You
-see, when I try to read and fix my fingers at the same time, I always
-lose my place and get all mixed up.”
-
-So Sidney good-naturedly found the instructions for pitching an
-out-curve and read them off while Tom, frowning intently, curved his
-fingers about the ball. “‘Grasp the ball firmly,’” recited Sidney,
-“‘between the thumb and the first two fingers.’”
-
-[Illustration: “‘Grasp the ball firmly,’” recited Sidney, “‘between the
-thumb and the first two fingers’”]
-
-“Uh-uh,” grunted Tom.
-
-“‘Hold the third and four fingers back toward the palm.’”
-
-“All right.”
-
-“‘Bring the hand up over the shoulder in the usual manner----’”
-
-“What’s the usual manner?” demanded Tom.
-
-“Why, I suppose just as if you were going to throw the ball straight.
-‘The back of the hand being turned away from you.’”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“‘In delivering the ball, bring the back of the hand underneath as the
-arm is dropped, letting the ball roll off the surface of the confining
-fingers, which imparts to it the rotary motion necessary to make it
-curve to the pitcher’s left.’ That sounds crazy to me!”
-
-“Me too. But here goes!”
-
-The ball shot away and the boys watched it eagerly. There was
-undoubtedly a slight tendency toward an out-curve, but certainly not
-enough to fool the stupidest batsman. But Tom was pleased.
-
-“That’s the idea, all right,” he declared jubilantly. “Now we’ll try
-it again.” Sidney obligingly recovered the ball, which, luckily, had
-struck the fence instead of going through any of the numerous holes
-in it. He tossed it to Tom, and Tom again carefully and thoughtfully
-arranged his fingers about it, poised it over his shoulder, and swept
-it forward. But this time something was very wrong, for the ball
-swooped down to earth some fifteen feet distant, struck an empty tin
-can, and bounded off into the street.
-
-“I’ll chase it!” said Tom.
-
-“No, you stay there,” laughed Sidney, “and study about it. I’ll get it.”
-
-“What I’d like to know,” said Tom, when Sidney was back once more, “is
-what makes it curve.”
-
-“Why, it curves because you hold it so it will!”
-
-“But why should it? Just because I hold it with two fingers instead of
-three or four, why should it curve to the left?”
-
-“Because when you let go of it you--wait a minute!” Sidney found
-his place in the book. “Because you ‘impart to it the rotary motion
-necessary to make it curve to the pitcher’s left.’”
-
-“Well, but _why_?”
-
-“Oh, shut up,” sighed Sidney. “You’re too inquisitive. It--it just
-does, I suppose.”
-
-“Nothing ‘just does’ without a reason,” replied Tom seriously. “And I’m
-going to find out why. Seems to me if I knew why a ball curves one time
-and doesn’t curve another, I’d get the hang of it better. Read that
-stuff again, Sid.”
-
-This time--Eureka! A veritable out-curve plainly visible to the naked
-eye, as Sidney triumphantly announced. And after that two more in
-succession! And then something went wrong again and the ball acted
-quite foolishly.
-
-“You’re tired, I guess,” Sidney said. “Let me have a try while you rest
-up.”
-
-So Sidney “put over” a few out-curves, making the astounding discovery
-that he and the book were quite in agreement as to the manner of
-holding the ball--a fact which he had doubted before,--and subsequently
-tried a drop with fair success. That slow ball wouldn’t materialise
-this evening. Then Tom sent Sidney to the fence with the mitt and tried
-again and again to make that obstinate leather-covered sphere do as
-he wanted it to. Once or twice it did, but the trouble was that Tom
-couldn’t discover why it did; or why it more often didn’t. Still, it
-could be done, and, moreover, he had done it, and that was something!
-Sidney wanted him to attempt an in-shoot or a drop or some of the other
-deliveries set forth in the book, but Tom shook his head.
-
-“I’m going to learn that out-curve thing first,” he said doggedly.
-“When I get so I can do that every time, I’ll try a new one. Some day
-I’m going to be able to pitch ’em all. First, though, I’m going to find
-out why--why----”
-
-“Why is a curve,” said Sidney helpfully.
-
-“There’s some reason. There must be. There’s a perfectly good
-scientific reason for it, Sid.”
-
-“Huh! What if there is? I’ll bet you won’t be able to curve a ball any
-better for knowing why,” jeered Sidney. “The way to learn to pitch is
-to pitch. Come on home.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-TOM PLAYS IN A REAL GAME
-
-
-That spring proved to be the pleasantest in Tom’s recollection. To be
-sure, lessons didn’t always go easily; in fact, Tom had a fortnight
-of trouble when the first lazy, warm days came, and only extricated
-himself from his difficulties by resolutely remaining at home in the
-evenings and studying instead of playing ball. A slack time in the
-affairs of Cummings and Wright followed the first spring months and
-Tom was several times accorded the privilege of taking a couple of
-hours off on Saturday afternoons to watch the high school team play.
-He enjoyed that immensely, got terribly excited--although I must
-own that he didn’t show the fact much--and “rooted” loyally for the
-Brown-and-Blue. The team that year was nothing to boast of, although
-patriotic youths did boast, for all of that, and met a larger number
-of defeats than was either expected or desired. Once Tom journeyed
-with some forty enthusiastic boys to Lynton, over in the next county,
-and returned very much depressed in the cool of a June twilight. But
-there were victories, too, and by the time school was over for the
-year Amesville High had redeemed itself after a fashion by decisively
-defeating Petersburg two out of three contests. The fact that
-Petersburg was woefully weak that year had much to do with the result
-of the series.
-
-Mr. Cummings seemed to sympathise with Tom’s yearning for the diamond
-and more than once suggested an afternoon off when the local club was
-to play at home. The senior partner was something of a “fan” himself
-and followed the fortunes of the Cleveland and other major league clubs
-with great interest. He and Tom soon got into the habit of discussing
-baseball affairs in slack moments and he always handed the morning
-paper to the boy after he had read it.
-
-“Fine game in Chicago yesterday, Tom,” he would say. “Thirteen innings
-without a run!”
-
-“Those White Sox have a great team this year, sir. I wouldn’t be
-surprised to see them win the pennant, the way they’re travelling now.”
-
-“Hm; yes, maybe. But Philadelphia will stand a lot of watching, son.
-They made a bad start, I know, but they’re coming fast now.”
-
-And then, if there were no customers awaiting Tom’s attention, they
-would talk baseball for many minutes, Mr. Cummings leaning with an
-elbow on a showcase and gazing thoughtfully into the street and Tom
-tidying his stock behind the counter. Sometimes Mr. Wright would enter
-quickly and find them there, and then Mr. Cummings’s efforts to appear
-busy were very amusing.
-
-“I tell you, Tom, it’s a fine thing to be able to hit over three
-hundred, but if you can’t make time on the bases you might just as well
-bat around two hundred. Why, now you take---- These are going pretty
-well, are they? That’s good. Better not let your stock get too low.”
-
-And Tom, bewildered at the sudden turn of conversation, would glance
-around to find Mr. Wright frowning from the doorway. It became an
-understood thing between the senior partner and Tom that when Mr.
-Wright appeared they were each to simulate deep attention to business!
-
-Tom finished his first year at high school with credit, attended the
-graduation exercises--he had already gone to a moonlight picnic
-given by the senior class--and thus, so to say, made his entrance
-into Society. He had been presented to numerous young ladies, always
-to his embarrassment, and had secretly wished he could dance. As he
-could not, he had watched the others rather enviously and had felt
-somewhat awkward and out of it. Sidney wanted to enlist the services
-of a girl friend in Tom’s behalf. “She’ll teach you in an hour, Tom.
-She’s a wonder at it! What do you say?” But Tom had drawn back in
-unfeigned alarm and shaken his head with a vigour that had left no
-doubt in his chum’s mind as to his meaning. All that summer one of the
-worst experiences that could happen to Tom was to meet on the street
-one of the girls he had been introduced to. More than once, discerning
-a young lady in the distance, he crossed over to the other sidewalk
-and became absorbed in the window displays. There was one awful
-occasion--Tom couldn’t think of it without a shudder for weeks!--when
-he had encountered May Warner three blocks from the store and, in some
-mysterious way, had suddenly found himself walking beside her along the
-street. How it had happened he never did know, but it was certainly
-due to no effort on his part! The young lady, who was a very pretty
-girl of about his own age, had done most of the talking, Tom merely
-according an embarrassed “yes” or “no” now and then, but those were
-three of the longest blocks he had ever travelled. When they reached
-the doorway of Cummings and Wright’s, Tom fled without ceremony.
-Naturally he soon gained a reputation for bashfulness, and the girls,
-instead of taking pity on him and letting him alone, seemed to go out
-of their way to speak to him, getting a good deal of amusement from
-poor Tom’s unhappiness.
-
-Sidney was to leave Amesville for the summer the last of July, his
-often expressed desire to spend the warm weather in town failing to
-impress his parents. Tom knew he was going to miss Sidney a good deal
-and he looked forward regretfully to the latter’s departure. Once, in
-June, Sidney accompanied Tom out to Derry to remain over Sunday and
-enjoyed the visit so much because of the novelty of it that he declared
-his intention of going again. Star had a fine time then, receiving
-more attention and petting than falls to the lot of most dogs in the
-short space of a day. Tom’s uncle was as gracious to the visitor as
-he ever was to anyone, but Sidney secretly voted Farmer Bowles “an old
-curmudgeon.” He got on finely with Aunt Patty, however. But for that
-matter Aunt Patty, in spite of her sharp tongue, would have been kind
-to a chimney-sweep had he been honoured with Tom’s friendship.
-
-The high school baseball team disbanded after school closed, for many
-of its members went away in the summer. But this year a few of the
-fellows who were to remain at home formed themselves into the Amesville
-Blues, filling the vacant places on the team with boys of their
-acquaintance. Sidney held his place in left field while he remained in
-the city, and it was Sidney who proposed that Tom be made manager of
-the team. So it fell to Tom’s lot to arrange games with rival nines
-in and out of town. This he did so well that the Blues played three
-times a week on an average and had a lot of good fun. They made short
-trips to neighbouring towns--the matter of railroad fares prohibited
-very long excursions--and once or twice Tom went with them. It was on
-one of these trips that Tom made his first entry into real baseball.
-Tommy Hughes, who was the regular centre fielder on the school team
-and filled the same position with the Blues, developed a bad case
-of stomach-ache on the way to Union Vale--he quite frankly owned to
-having put away three chocolate ice-cream sodas and half a dozen
-peaches!--and, as from motives of economy, the team had brought no
-substitute along, there was only one thing to do.
-
-“I may be all right after awhile,” moaned Tommy, “but I couldn’t play
-now if you gave me a thousand dollars. Let Tom take my place, Walt.”
-(Walter White was captain and catcher.) “He can play fine, Tom can.”
-
-So Tom, squeezing himself into Tommy’s suit and donning Tommy’s blue
-stockings, went out into the glare of centre field and nervously
-waited, wondering whether he would muff the first ball that came into
-his territory. As a matter of fact, he did, allowing the Union Vales to
-tally two runs, but after that he had five chances and accepted them
-all, while at bat he made the very creditable showing of two hits for a
-total of three bases out of six times up. The Amesville Blues won that
-game handily, and Tom returned home filled with the joy of victory and
-a new enthusiasm for baseball.
-
-The last week in July, Tom accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Morris and Sidney
-to the station and saw them off for the summer. Of course he was
-pressingly invited to visit them at the Lake and spend as much time as
-he could, and he even promised to do it, but in his heart he knew very
-well he couldn’t afford it even if the opportunity in the shape of a
-summer vacation came to him. He felt rather lonely and downcast for
-several days after Sidney’s departure. There were almost daily letters
-for awhile, and these helped a good deal. But presently the letters
-became less frequent and by that time Tom had in a measure reconciled
-himself to his friend’s absence. Business at the store grew brisk in
-July and remained so all the summer. Tom didn’t mention the subject of
-a vacation and didn’t really very much care about having one. The trip
-to the Lake to visit Sidney, although the latter continually reminded
-him of his promise and wrote glowingly of the good times they could
-have, was quite out of the question. The fare there and return was over
-thirty dollars, and, while Tom was putting aside a little money every
-week, he was far from being a Crœsus. He finally wrote Sidney to that
-effect, received in due time a very disappointed epistle in reply, and
-felt more at ease now that the matter was finally decided.
-
-The sporting goods department did very well in the summer. There was
-something very like a “boom” in golf at Amesville and Tom did a good
-business in golf clubs, balls, and supplies. He had ventured on a line
-of rather expensive golf vests and sweaters, very stunning affairs they
-were, too, and was relieved to find that he could not only get rid of
-those he had ordered, but that it would be necessary to order more.
-Joe Gillig had taken a two-weeks’ vacation in June, and Mr. Cummings
-frequently went away for week-ends, usually, as Tom discovered,
-managing to witness a ball game somewhere during his absence, but Mr.
-Wright and Tom stuck to the ship all during the hot weather. And it
-_was_ hot that summer in Amesville! Tom ruined two boxes of golf-balls
-by exposing them to the rays of the sun that, intensified by the
-plate-glass window, caused the enamel to blister. He mentioned the
-matter in trepidation to Mr. Wright, the senior partner being out of
-town at the time, and had visions of being told to charge the two dozen
-balls to himself. But Mr. Wright, frowning and “tut-tutting,” only
-said: “Ought to have known better, Tom; ought to have known better.
-Live and learn, though. Charge to profit and loss.”
-
-Late in August, Sidney began to write of coming home in a fortnight or
-three weeks, and about that time business slackened up a little. Mr.
-Cummings said one morning: “Tom, how about taking a vacation? I guess
-we can get along without you for a week or two after the first of the
-month. You haven’t been here quite a year yet and so we can’t give you
-full pay, but you can have a week with wages and another week without
-if you want it.”
-
-So Tom chose to limit his vacation to one week. He went out to Derry
-one Saturday evening and remained until Tuesday. By that time he began
-to miss the town and so he moved back. The next morning he dropped in
-at the store, talked baseball with Mr. Cummings and hobnobbed awhile
-with Joe, and then went out to loiter rather aimlessly along the
-street. While he was studying the enticing placards outside the Empire
-Theatre and wondering whether to invest a dime and witness the moving
-pictures inside, someone slapped him on the shoulder and he glanced
-around to find Thornton Brooks grinning at him. Thorny Brooks had
-graduated from high school in the spring and was a big, fine-looking
-chap of eighteen. He had played with the Blues as pitcher, and Tom had
-become fairly well acquainted with him.
-
-“Going in?” asked Thorny.
-
-Tom looked undecided.
-
-“Come on! It’s my treat. They’ve got some dandy pictures this week.
-I’ve seen ’em once, but I can stand ’em again.”
-
-So Tom allowed the older boy to pull him up to the window and finally
-through the turnstile. They found seats in the back of the house,
-and Tom had his first glimpse of moving pictures. They seemed very
-wonderful to him and when, presently, a film showing a game of baseball
-at the Polo Grounds in New York was thrown on the screen he almost got
-out of his seat in his eagerness. Thorny, with the superior knowledge
-of one to whom moving pictures are an old story and who has seen the
-present programme before, explained to his companion in whispers.
-
-“That’s Lewis at bat,” said Thorny. “Now watch. See him swing at that?
-Plain as day, isn’t it? There’s a hit. Watch him streak to first!
-That’s Murray fielding the ball in to second. That was a peach of a
-base-hit, eh? I don’t know who this chap is. He’s a big one, though.
-One ball! A foul! He’s got it! No, he hasn’t either! Look at the crowd
-in the stands, Tom. Now watch the fellow on first. There he goes!”
-
-“He’s out!” exclaimed Tom in a hoarse and agitated whisper as the
-runner slid into second and the shortstop swung at him with the ball in
-hand.
-
-“No, sir!” said Thorny triumphantly. “He’s safe! See that? That was
-some steal, eh? A close decision, though. I wonder who that umpire on
-bases is? I’d hate to be in his shoes, wouldn’t you?”
-
-Tom agreed that he would, keeping meanwhile his eyes glued to the
-quivering drama before him. The batsman popped up a high foul, the
-New York catcher got under it, the batsman walked toward the bench
-in disgust, and the picture faded. Others followed, however, and Tom
-enjoyed them all hugely. It was long after noon when the boys emerged
-from the little theatre, bathed in perspiration. On the way back toward
-the centre of town Thorny said:
-
-“We play the Red Sox this afternoon over by the railroad. Coming over
-to see it?”
-
-“Yes,” Tom answered. “We got licked Monday, didn’t we?”
-
-Thorny shrugged his broad shoulders in disgust.
-
-“Why wouldn’t we? We had only six of our regulars. A chap named Squires
-or something was playing third and he never made a put-out once during
-the game. Say, Tom, why don’t you play in the field for us to-day? Then
-we can put Hobbs on third. Will you?”
-
-“I’d like to,” said Tom eagerly, “if you want me to.”
-
-“Surest thing you know, kid! That’s all right, then. I’ll tell Walter.
-We’ll need to put up a corking game to-day if we’re going to lick those
-toughies over there. Don’t forget. Three o’clock!”
-
-Tom played in right field that afternoon, made no errors, and had three
-hits and one run to his credit. The Red Sox won their game, 7 to 5,
-however. On the way back Walter White, who captained the Blues, said:
-
-“Can you go over to Lynton with us Saturday, Pollock? Wish you would.
-You played a dandy game to-day; didn’t he, Thorny?”
-
-“Sure! The kid’s a ballplayer, that’s what he is. He’ll come; won’t
-you, Tom?”
-
-“If you want me,” said Tom.
-
-“We sure do! Wish you might have played all summer with us,” replied
-White. “You’ve got a fine eye for the ball. That two-bagger of yours
-was as clean a wallop as I’ve seen for a long time!”
-
-“And that red-headed pitcher of theirs,” sighed Thorny, “was no cinch!
-I couldn’t find him at all!”
-
-“We’re going over by trolley at half-past one,” said White. “Meet at
-Main and Ash, Pollock. Don’t be late, will you?”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI
-
-THE BLUES VISIT LYNTON
-
-
-The Lynton team still fought under the high school banner, although,
-like the Amesville team, it had been weakened by the absence of several
-of its good players. Few if any of the ten youths who journeyed to the
-neighbouring town that Saturday afternoon expected to win the game, for
-earlier in the year the Lynton team had defeated them quite decisively;
-and at that time they had possessed all the strength of the regular
-high school line-up, whereas to-day the nine was rather a makeshift
-affair.
-
-But, after all, the main thing was to play baseball and have a good
-time, and, consequently, it was a happily irresponsible group that took
-possession of the two last seats of the big yellow electric car at
-Main and Ash streets at twenty minutes to two and went whizzing across
-country at a good thirty miles an hour, swaying and bouncing along an
-air-line track that dipped into vales and climbed hills with a fine
-disregard of grades.
-
-There was Thorny Brooks, who pitched, and Walter White, who caught
-him, and Tommy Hughes, who played centre field, and “Buster” Healey,
-who held down first, and six other lads of varying ability, size, and
-age, including Tom himself and a grammar-school youngster named Peddie,
-who was a distant cousin of White’s and who, volunteering for the
-position, had been accorded the office of bat-boy and general outfield
-substitute. He was a nice-looking, fresh-faced kiddie of fourteen,
-whose pleasure at accompanying the team was very evident. Going
-over, White and Thorny Brooks arranged the batting-list, after much
-discussion, and Tom was given the honour of third place.
-
-“You’re a pretty good hand with the stick,” explained the captain, “and
-if Buster or I get on bases you may be able to work us along or bring
-us in. Did anyone bring a score-book?”
-
-George Peddie blushingly produced one from a hip-pocket and the
-batting-list was copied into it, no easy task with the big car
-apparently trying its best to jump the rails! They reached Lynton, an
-overgrown sort of village surrounded by truck farms, at a few minutes
-past two. A walk of a few blocks brought them to the field, where, as
-the game was not to begin until three, they put in a good half-hour of
-practice. It was a warm day, but not excessively hot. Already there was
-a hint of autumn in the intense blue of the sky and the fresher feeling
-of the little breeze that crept across the neatly tilled fields. After
-they had had all the work Walter White thought good for them they were
-called in and ranged themselves along the scarred benches that stood
-in the shade of a grandstand. By ones or twos or in little groups
-the spectators began to arrive, and at a quarter to three the Lynton
-team came on. Several of them walked over and shook hands with Walter
-and Thorny and others of the visitors and conversed a few moments.
-The matter of choosing an umpire was soon arranged, Lynton offering
-a choice of either of two high school teachers. Then Lynton took the
-field to warm up and Thorny, pulling on his glove and picking up a
-ball, called for someone to catch him.
-
-“You’ll do, Tom. Come on out here.”
-
-So Tom borrowed Walter’s big glove and stood up in front of the stand.
-At first Thorny’s pitches were easy to handle, but as he began to warm
-up Tom found the ball more difficult to judge. Several times he was
-badly fooled by the pitcher’s elusive drops, while his out-shoot was
-so extreme that Tom more than once moved to the right only to have the
-ball bring him sidling back again. Thorny was amused.
-
-“Fool you, do they, Tom?” he asked.
-
-Tom smiled and nodded. “I’m glad I don’t have to bat them,” he said.
-
-The Blues went to bat first and both Buster Healey and Walter White
-reached first, Buster on balls and the captain on a clean hit between
-first and second that advanced Buster to second. Then Tom faced the
-Lynton pitcher, who had something of a local reputation in his line,
-with misgivings. Down at second Buster danced and ran back and forth.
-At first, Walter took a good ten-foot lead. “Hit it out, Pollock!” he
-called encouragingly. “He hasn’t a thing on the ball!”
-
-But the Lynton pitcher had enough on it to puzzle Tom, and Tom, after
-knocking two fouls back of third, hit straight into the pitcher’s glove
-and the pitcher, whirling quickly, caught Walter a yard off the base.
-The next batsman made the third out and the teams changed places.
-Lynton didn’t even get a man to first in that inning, nor did the
-Blues do any better in their half of the next. In fact, nothing much
-happened until the fourth inning, when Lynton managed to get a man to
-second on a clean hit and then, with two out, brought him home with a
-teasing Texas Leaguer that fell midway between shortstop and centre
-fielder. So far Tom, in left field, had had no work to do, while at bat
-he had twice failed to make a hit.
-
-The Blues came back in the first of the fifth and, by a lucky infield
-hit that bounded meanly, placed a runner on the first bag. Tommy
-Hughes sacrificed with a long fly to right and put the runner on
-third. A moment later the score was tied when one of the tail-enders
-made a slashing wallop over second baseman’s head. At one to one the
-teams battled along until the seventh. Then ill-fortune took a hand
-in affairs. The Lynton third baseman caught a slow ball on his bat
-and smashed it straight at Thorny. The latter might readily have been
-excused for jumping away from it and leaving it for second baseman to
-handle, but instead of that he tried to knock it down--catching it was
-almost out of the question--and succeeded. But the ball caught him
-squarely on his throwing wrist and in the agony of the pain Thorny was
-unable to get it to first in time to head off the runner. Time was
-called while Walter White went down and rubbed the injured hand, and
-presently Thorny went on again. But after he had pitched a few more
-balls the wrist began to swell and stiffen and his offerings became
-very easy for the enemy. For the rest of that inning smart fielding
-delayed the inevitable, and, although Lynton got a runner on third and
-another on first, they died there.
-
-Thorny walked rather dejectedly to the bench and his team-mates
-clustered anxiously about him and viewed the swollen wrist.
-
-“Cold water is what you want there,” said Tommy Hughes. “Who’s got a
-handkerchief?”
-
-When one was forthcoming Tommy wet it at the water pail and bound it
-around the wrist.
-
-“It feels good,” said Thorny, “but I don’t believe I’ll be able to
-pitch any more, fellows. I’m awfully sorry. I ought to have let that
-pesky ball go by. It was coming about a mile a minute. Can’t you finish
-the game out, Buster?”
-
-“Me?” Buster looked startled. “Gee, I couldn’t pitch anything those
-fellows wouldn’t make mince-meat of!”
-
-“I’ll try it,” said Walter doubtfully, “if you’ll go behind the bat,
-Buster.”
-
-“Then who’ll take first?”
-
-“Move Sanborn over from third and let Tommy take Sanborn’s place,”
-suggested Thorny. “Then put young Peddie in centre.”
-
-“All right. Can you bat this inning? You’re up after Tommy.”
-
-“Yes, I’ll take another whack at it,” said Thorny. “What we’ve got to
-do, fellows, is make a few runs. They won’t do a thing to us now. No
-offence to you, Walt.”
-
-“Oh, I know it,” said Walter sadly. “They’ll everlastingly knock me
-all around the lot. I’m not going to try to work any curves on them,
-Thorny. My curves are fine, only they don’t go over. I’ll give ’em
-straight balls and trust to luck. That umpire’s pretty easy on the
-pitcher. You’re up, Tommy. Go on. There’s one down. Try to lay down a
-bunt along the third-base line, Tommy, and run like thunder.”
-
-Tommy followed directions so well, even to running “like thunder,” that
-he got safely to the first sack, the third baseman coming in hurriedly
-for the ball and heaving it over the first baseman’s head.
-
-“If he’d been watching he could have gone on to second,” grumbled
-Walter. “You’re up, Thorny. Send him along, old man.”
-
-Thorny had not made a hit so far. Realising that he would have no
-other chance to-day, he went very determinedly to the plate and
-swung his bat. For a pitcher Thorny was a very fair batter, although
-to-day he certainly had not proved it. But a hit was due him and he
-got it. Letting three offerings go by, two of them balls and one a
-called strike, he picked out the fourth and “took it on the nose.”
-Away it went into short left. Tommy scuttled to second like a hunted
-rabbit and Thorny made first. There he called to Walter and there was
-a conference. Then Buster was called to run for the injured one and
-Sanborn walked to the plate. The Lynton pitcher made three attempts to
-catch Buster off the bag, possibly in the hope that Tommy would attempt
-to steal third and get thrown out there. But Buster was too quick
-for a right-handed pitcher. Sanborn began to pop up fouls and put
-every Amesville player’s heart in his mouth half a dozen times. But
-both catcher and third baseman just managed to miss the ball at every
-attempt and Sanborn, with two strikes and one ball on him, was still
-safe. Then came the signal for a hit-and-run and Sanborn swung madly
-at an out-shoot that cut the corner of the plate waist-high. By some
-trick of good luck he connected and the ball went flying toward first
-baseman. But between him and the oncoming ball dashed Buster Healey
-on his way to second and that was just enough to confuse the baseman
-momentarily. He got the ball on a high bound, dropped it, picked it up
-again, and raced for his base. Over at third, Tommy, never stopping,
-spurned the bag under foot and raced for the plate. Cries from the
-Lynton catcher and half the Lynton team filled the air. Too late to
-make his out at first, the baseman turned, recovered himself, and
-hurled the ball home. It went wide of the plate by five feet, Tommy was
-safe, Buster was on third, and Sanborn was sliding, feet-foremost, into
-second, where an agonised shortstop implored the catcher to send the
-ball to him!
-
-Amesville cheered and jumped in front of the bench and Tommy, patting
-the dust from his clothes and grinning, was thumped ecstatically on the
-back. When his team-mates had got through with him you couldn’t have
-found a speck of dust anywhere on him! There was still only one gone
-and runners on second and third. But the tail-end of the Blue’s batting
-list was up and the outlook wasn’t very bright. Still, sometimes the
-unexpected happens, and it happened to-day. Little Smith, the weakest
-batter on the nine, although a remarkably clever shortstop, connected
-with the first ball pitched and drove it far into centre field. He was
-so surprised that he just stood there and held his bat until Walter
-yelled to him to run. However, running did him no good, for centre
-fielder was easily under the fly and Smith was out. But Buster Healey
-was ambling home and Sanborn was streaking it for the plate. The ball
-began its homeward flight just as Sanborn rounded third and it was a
-narrow squeak for him. But he made it, or so the umpire declared, and
-that was enough. The score stood four to one now and Amesville dared
-to hope that, even without the further services of Thorny, she might
-hold her own and take a victory home with her. The inning ended a
-few minutes later without further scoring and the Blues put their new
-line-up in the field. Lynton howled gleefully when she saw Walter walk
-over to the pitcher’s box and pick up the ball. Young Peddie, almost
-trembling with excitement, scooted out to centre field and the other
-changes were made as Thorny had suggested.
-
-Perhaps Lynton expected Walter to offer her something puzzling and
-so for awhile was at a loss to fathom his sort of pitching. At any
-rate, he managed to dispose of the first batsman easily, causing
-him to pop up a weak infield fly that settled cosily into Sanborn’s
-glove. But after that, the head of the Lynton batting-list coming up,
-the trouble began. Walter’s straight balls were fine for fattening
-batting averages! The only variation he attempted was in height, and
-he not always succeeded there. At all events, high, low, or medium,
-his offerings met ready acceptance and soon the fielders were very
-busy. Tom got his first chance in left field and made a brilliant
-catch after running half-way across the field. The infield scurried
-about like a lot of mice and the crack of bat against ball became
-terribly monotonous to the wearers of the blue stockings. Poor Walter
-stood up to it bravely, a rather sickly smile on his face, and fed
-his offerings to the delighted enemy. Before anyone realised it the
-bases were filled. To be sure, there were two out by that time, but
-that didn’t deter Lynton any. A hit past shortstop, and a runner came
-in. An error by Sanborn at first, and another run trickled over the
-plate. A smashing drive that was too hot for third baseman to handle
-left men on second and first. But Lynton’s best batsmen had passed now
-and the trouble was over, as it proved. A nice low ball was selected
-by the batter and it went far and high into centre field. The Blues,
-watching, groaned. For in centre stood young Peddie, his eyes fixed on
-the arching sphere and eagerness and excitement in every line of his
-tense poise. Tom dug across in the hope of making the catch, but there
-was no time for him to get under it. Down it came, while the bases
-were emptied, and up went Peddie’s hands. Then the miracle happened!
-The ball descended squarely into the fielder’s glove and, to the
-astonishment and joy of the Blues, actually stuck there! The side was
-out!
-
-Peddie was a hero and every fellow said nice things to him and thumped
-him on the back, just as they had thumped Tommy Hughes, and caused him
-to blush like a girl in pleasure and embarrassment.
-
-And Amesville, accepting that piece of good fortune as an augury, went
-to bat in the first of the ninth quite hopefully.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII
-
-“BATTER’S OUT”
-
-
-Amesville was still in the lead with one run, the score being 4 to 3,
-when Buster Healey strode to the plate with a confident swagger and
-tapped his bat determinedly. But pride goeth before a fall, and it took
-just two deliveries to dispose of the head of the Blue’s batting-list.
-A nice fast ball swept past him, breast-high, and the umpire announced
-a strike. Buster smiled scornfully. Again the Lynton pitcher wound up
-and sped the sphere forward and this time Buster liked what was coming
-and swung for it. But the ball was a drop and Buster’s bat slid over
-the top of it and the ball trickled some three feet in front of the
-plate. Buster lit out for the bag, but the ball reached it while he was
-still only half-way along the path and he turned disgustedly toward the
-bench.
-
-The Lynton supporters in the stand, a noisy two or three hundred in
-all, howled their glee and the umpire called “Batter up, please!”
-
-That meant Walter White, and Walter, realising that in all probability
-his team would have no other chance to add to their total, took his
-place and faced the pitcher coolly and craftily. He meant to get to
-first somehow. Once there, he would trust to his speed or to Tom or
-Tommy Hughes to bring him home. The first delivery was wide of the
-plate, and Amesville, on the bench, shouted derisively. Walter swung
-his bat back and forth over the plate in an effort to disconcert the
-pitcher. Another ball went by.
-
-“That’s the stuff, Walt!” called Thorny. “Make him pitch, old man!”
-
-Then came an out-shoot that went for a strike and a foul that fell
-harmlessly in the stand and put the score two and two. A trace of
-anxiety crept into Walter’s face as he awaited the next offering. The
-pitcher was very deliberate, wrapping his fingers about the ball with
-more than ordinary care and giving the impression that he was about to
-offer one of his most eccentric curves. But what really came was a fast
-ball, high and straight over the centre of the plate. That was enough
-for Walter. Around came his bat, there was a sharp _crack_, and the
-ball streaked across the diamond, past shortstop, who made a gallant
-and desperate effort to reach it, and well into the outfield. Walter
-stood triumphantly on first and Amesville shouted joyfully.
-
-Tom knew that Walter would steal if he got half a chance and so he
-allowed the first ball to pass unconcernedly. It was high and wide, for
-the catcher expected the Blue’s captain to try for second. But Walter
-knew better than to try a steal on the first delivery. Then came a
-strike, a drop that settled down knee-high as it reached the plate. It
-was likely then, Tom reasoned, that the pitcher would pitch another
-ball, probably a wide one, in the hope of making him reach out for it.
-And Tom’s guess was the right one, for that is just what he did. And
-the score was one and two. On first base, Walter leaped and shouted,
-and from the bench came encouraging cries.
-
-“He’s up in the air, Tom!” “Wait for your base! He can’t put ’em over!”
-
-Then, as the Lynton pitcher wound up again, Tom got the signal from
-Walter. The ball floated lazily toward him, dropping slowly as it came.
-“There he goes!” shouted the Lynton infield, and Walter was sprinting
-for second. Tom swung hard at the ball, missed it cleanly, and heard
-it thud into the catcher’s mitten. He knew enough not to step out of
-the way and so held his place stolidly at the plate while the Lynton
-catcher, tossing off his mask, side-stepped and hurled the ball to
-second. But there was desperation in Walter’s effort and he had hooked
-one foot into the base before the shortstop swung down at him. After
-that Tom was free to do as he liked and he refused the next delivery
-and the umpire endorsed his judgment by calling it a ball. He began
-then to hope that he might get his base as a gift, but with three balls
-against him the Lynton pitcher settled down and curved one over the
-corner of the plate and Tom never even offered at it. He felt rather
-cheap as he walked back to the bench under the hoots of the audience.
-
-“Hard luck,” said Tommy as he passed to take his turn. Tom seated
-himself and watched Tommy’s efforts. Tommy had a strike called on him,
-popped a foul back of third baseman, and then let go at the next ball
-and hit safely through second baseman, advancing Walter to third. But
-the next batsman was young Peddie and, after swinging wildly at the
-first three balls offered him, he and the side retired together.
-
-Lynton started their half of the ninth with a vast amount of confidence
-and a very evident intention of pulling the game out of the fire.
-Nevertheless, Walter managed to strike out the first batsman, and, with
-the weak hitters coming up, it seemed that possibly, after all, the
-Blues might win out. But the next man got his base on balls and jogged
-to second a moment later when a wild pitch got by Buster and rolled to
-the fence. That seemed to be Walter’s undoing, for after that he was
-as wild and uncontrolled as a hawk. With one strike and three balls on
-the second batsman, he made a desperate effort to put a low one across
-and managed to hit the man in the leg. By that time the stand was in an
-uproar and Walter began to show nervousness. The next batter hit safely
-and the bases were filled. Behind the Blues’ captain the infield were
-doing their best to encourage him and pull him together.
-
-“Take your time, Walt! Lots o’ time! Let him hit it!” “You’re doing
-fine, old man! Don’t let ’em worry you! Put over a few; we’re here!”
-
-But Walter’s arm had lost what little cunning it had possessed. Now
-and then he managed to get a ball over the plate, and when he did
-a rude Lynton batsman would rap it. Even the very tail-enders were
-hitting him now and in a trice the tying run came in and the bases were
-still full, with but two out. Walter faced the next batter desperately,
-got Buster’s signal, and let drive. It was a wild effort and only by
-dropping flat on the ground was Buster able to stop the ball and keep
-the man on third from racing home. When he got to his feet again he
-turned to the umpire and asked for time. Then, amidst the jeering
-shouts of the audience, he walked down to the box.
-
-“Look here, Walt,” he said quietly, “you’re all in. If we can keep the
-score tied up, we may win in the next inning. Isn’t there any other
-fellow who can pitch a little!”
-
-Walter looked hopelessly about the field and shook his head. “I don’t
-believe so. Most any of them could do better than I’m doing now,
-though, I guess.” He called to Smith and that youth joined them.
-
-“Smithie, can you pitch at all?” asked Walter.
-
-Smith shook his head. “I suppose I could shy the ball somewhere near
-the plate, but I guess that’s about all. Say, Pollock can pitch a
-little. I’ve seen him working with Sid Morris. He isn’t much, I guess,
-but he has something on it. Why don’t you give him a chance, Walt? He’d
-do a heap better than I could, anyway.”
-
-“Tom Pollock!” Walter shouted and waved to where Tom was sitting on
-his heels over in left. “Come in here!” Then, turning to Buster:
-“You go back to first and I’ll catch again. I can do that,” he added
-disgustedly, “if I can’t pitch. Say, Pollock,” he went on as Tom
-trotted up, “can you pitch any?”
-
-Tom hesitated, a trifle startled. “Why, I don’t know,” he answered
-doubtfully. “I suppose I can, a little.”
-
-“Well, for goodness’ sake, go in and get us through the inning if you
-can. These fellows are weak batters. If you’ve got anything at all, you
-can fool them. Know any signals?”
-
-Tom shook his head. Walter turned his back to the enemy and walked Tom
-aside. “What can you pitch?” he asked.
-
-“Nothing but an out-curve and a straight ball,” answered Tom
-apologetically.
-
-“That’s good enough. Now, here,” Walter laid a finger of his right
-hand over his glove. “One finger; see? A straight, low ball. Two
-fingers, a straight high one. Four fingers, a wide ball. Five fingers,
-an out-shoot. Get that? You watch my fingers before you pitch; see?
-And if you can’t make ’em out shake your head. Now, then, what are the
-signals?”
-
-Tom repeated them and Walter gave him an encouraging slap on the back.
-“You’ll do, Pollock. Don’t be afraid of them. Watch the signals and try
-to give me what I ask for.” And Walter walked back to the plate, tossed
-the ball to Tom, and donned his mask again.
-
-Tom wished for a minute that he were many miles away. The few hundred
-persons in the stand suddenly looked like a thousand and their derisive
-laughter and shouted comments made his ears tingle. Behind him, as he
-drew his cap down firmly and hitched up his trousers--not because there
-was any danger of their slipping down, but because he had seen Thorny
-do it--his team-mates spoke encouragingly and cheerfully.
-
-“That’s the stuff, Pollock! Show ’em what you can do!” “Remember, Tom,
-we’re here right behind you! Take your time, old man!”
-
-The batsman stepped out of the box and Tom sent half a dozen balls to
-Walter to limber his arm up. In spite of an attempt to put them over
-the plate, they went everywhere and Tom’s heart sank as Walter reached
-this way and that to pull them in. If he didn’t do better than that
-against the batsman, he’d make a frightful mess of it! At last, “Play
-ball!” said the umpire.
-
-The batsman stepped back into the box, grinning and tapping his bat
-against the plate, and Tom looked to Walter for the signal, trying
-hard not to see the faces of the onlookers in the stand nor to hear
-their sarcastic comments and advice. Walter held one finger extended
-earthward under cover of his big mitt as he crouched behind the batter,
-the signal for a low ball. The batsman was a tall, weedy youth and a
-knee-high offering was likely to get by him. Tom gripped the ball,
-fixed his gaze on the lower point of Walter’s body protector, raised
-his hand well back and swung it forward. Walter leaped a yard to the
-right and saved the day, for the ball was intent on tearing a hole in
-the stand. Shouts and hoots and the thumping of feet came from the
-seats, and Tom, with sinking heart, tried to hide his embarrassment by
-picking up a pebble and tossing it away, just as he had seen Thorny do.
-Then the ball came back to him.
-
-“Take it easy, Pollock!” called Walter cheerfully. “Right across now,
-old man!”
-
-But his fingers called for an out-curve and, with fear and mental
-trembling, Tom wrapped his thumb and first two fingers about the
-dirt-stained ball. Back went his arm overhead, up came his left foot,
-forward swept the hand, turning palm-uppermost as it descended, away
-went the ball, and Tom, crouching after the throw, watched anxiously.
-Straight for the batsman sped the ball and then, suddenly, as though
-responding to a sudden change of mind, it “broke” to the left, the
-batsman swung and missed, and Walter snuggled the sphere in his big
-mitt. It was the most pronounced break Tom had ever seen on his
-efforts, and a vast relief and encouragement came to him. If he could
-make that out-shoot go, he could certainly put a straight ball where it
-was wanted! “Strike one!” announced the umpire. The Blues broke into
-expressions of approval and satisfaction.
-
-“That’s the stuff, Tom! You’ve got him swinging like a gate!” “He
-couldn’t see it, old man! You’ve got the stuff, all right, all right!
-Show it to him!” “Fine pitching, Pollock! Keep it up!”
-
-Walter signalled for a high ball over the plate and this time Tom sent
-it swift and true. The batsman stepped back, hesitated, and swung--and
-again missed!
-
-“Strike two!” droned the umpire, and, “Two and two, Pollock! Keep at
-him!” shouted Walter.
-
-A low ball followed and the batsman disdained it. Unfortunately so did
-the umpire. Walter looked his disgust. “Hard luck,” he called as he
-tossed the ball back. “It was a dandy, Pollock. Let’s have another just
-like it!”
-
-On the bases the waiting runners jumped and scurried and shouted,
-and back of first and third bases leathern-lunged coachers shot a
-cross-fire past Tom’s ears. “Some pitcher, what, Billy?” called the
-fellow behind third. “Used to pitch for the Gas House Team, he did!
-Watch that wind-up! Ain’t it a peach? He’s got everything there
-is--not!”
-
-“Here we go! Here we go!” chanted the fellow at first. “Watch for a
-homer, fellows! Don’t tire yourselves running; just walk in! Now! now!
-now! Hi! hi! hi! There it is!”
-
-Then the coachers’ voices were suddenly stilled, for the batter had
-swung at an out-curve and missed it by a good three inches, and Tom
-Pollock had made his first strike-out! That was worth living for, that
-moment! Tom wondered if the others, the fellows about him and the
-noisy crowd in the stand, could guess the feeling of absolute rapture
-that was his as the bat swept harmlessly over the ball. Something was
-singing inside him and there was a delicious tingle in his fingers and
-toes. He had pitched in a real game and struck out a batsman! He felt
-very, very proud and happy just then, and not a little astonished, too.
-He wished that Sidney might have been there to see it!
-
-Then a new batter faced him at the plate, the ball was in his glove
-again, and once more Walter was stooping and giving his signal. The
-next batsman, perhaps from having watched Tom’s delivery, was more
-canny. Two deliveries went as balls. Then he swung and missed a high
-one. After that he spoiled two perfectly good offers by fouling, and,
-with the score two and two, found one to his liking and cracked it far
-into centre field. In raced the runner from third, around the bases
-sped the others, and far and high arched the tiny ball against the blue
-afternoon sky. Tom turned and watched with his heart in his mouth. Out
-there Tommy Hughes was trotting confidently back. Then down settled the
-ball, up went Tommy’s hands, and the inning was over!
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII
-
-TOM TWIRLS TO VICTORY
-
-
-The shadows were lengthening when the first half of the tenth inning
-began and were not much longer when it was over. The Lynton pitcher
-came back strong, and Sanborn and Smith and one other went out in order
-without seeing first base. Then the teams once more changed places,
-and Walter and Thorny walked to the base-line with Tom, counselling,
-encouraging, instructing.
-
-“Hold ’em this inning, Tom, and we’ve got ’em. Our best batters will be
-up next time and we’ll get a run or two as sure as shooting! Just take
-your time and don’t get flustered, old man. And follow the signals.”
-
-Lynton’s head of the list faced him now and Tom knew that he would
-prove no such easy victim as the two last hitters. Walter, confident
-and cheerful of voice, stooped behind the swinging bat.
-
-“All right now, fellows. First man! Make it be good, Tom!”
-
-Tom followed the signals that Walter gave him, sometimes doubting the
-catcher’s wisdom, but always doing his best to send what was asked for.
-The Lynton batsman, however, was canny and experienced and two balls
-were called before he offered at anything. Then it was a deceptive
-out-shoot that went by at the height of his shoulder and he missed it.
-But after that Tom couldn’t find the plate and the batsman trotted
-smiling to first. Tom made one attempt to catch him off the bag, but
-throwing to first is something that requires much practice and Tom had
-never tried to before. The result was that he neglected to step out of
-the box, there were frantic and eager cries from the opponents, and the
-umpire waved the runner to second. Tom had made a balk. After that,
-only dimly comprehending in what way he had offended against the rules,
-he refrained from paying any attention to the runners on bases.
-
-The second batter fell a victim to a high, straight ball, which went
-up from his bat and landed in shortstop’s eager hands. The third man
-proved a harder proposition, for he knocked innumerable fouls all over
-the place, after Tom had wasted two balls on him, and refused to have
-his fate settled. Eventually, however, he rolled a slow one toward
-third and was out at first. His sacrifice, though, had put the first
-runner on the last sack and Lynton in the stand chanted lustily in an
-endeavour to rattle the Blues’ battery. But Walter worked carefully
-and Tom, following instructions, launched a low ball that was called
-a strike, a high one, outside, that went as a ball, an out-shoot that
-found the batsman napping and went as a second strike, and a straight,
-fast one that cut the plate squarely in the centre, but was several
-inches too low. Then, with the score two and two, a low ball met the
-tip of the bat and went up and out into right field and straight down
-into the fielder’s hands, and another inning had passed into history
-and the score was still 4 to 4.
-
-Then Buster grabbed a bat and faced the Lynton hurler. The first
-delivery was a strike. Then came two balls, followed by a foul tip that
-smashed against the back-stop and made the second strike. The next
-offer looked good from the bench, but Buster disdained it, and when
-it crossed the plate it was so low that the umpire called it a ball.
-It was up to the pitcher then to put one across, and he did so. Or,
-rather, it would have gone across if Buster had not swung easily and
-sent it singing over pitcher’s head and into short centre for a base.
-
-The Blues on the bench shouted and cavorted, and Thorny hustled over
-to third to coach, and Tommy, back of first, pawed the earth and made
-as much noise as a steam whistle! Walter White was up and the Lynton
-pitcher for once looked a little dismayed and nervous. Buster caused
-all sorts of trouble on first and the pitcher wasted much energy trying
-to catch him napping. But Buster, although he took daring leads,
-somehow always managed to scurry back to safety before the ball slapped
-into first baseman’s hands. And all the time Tommy, leaping and waving
-his arms, shouted a rigmarole of ridiculous advice which no sensible
-base runner would ever have heeded and which Buster payed no attention
-to.
-
-“That’s the boy!” shouted Tommy. “Down with his arm! Up with his foot!
-Slide! Slide! _Whee-ee!_ Safe on second! Look out! Whoa, Bill! Now
-you’re off! Run, you rabbit! Whoa! Never touched him! Twenty minutes,
-Mr. Umpire! There he goes! Watch him, watch him! Hi! hi! hi! hi! Take
-a lead, Buster, take a lead! He can’t throw this far! All right! Up
-again! How was that for a balk, Mr. Umpire? All right, Buster, he
-didn’t see it. Off you go. That’s good! Hold it! On your toes, boy, on
-your toes! Now you’re off!”
-
-And meanwhile Thorny, behind third, was adding his voice to the uproar
-and the Lynton pitcher, finally giving up Buster as a bad job, directed
-his attention to the batsman and sent in three balls, one after
-another! Then a strike was called and then there was another ball and
-Walter trotted to first and Buster cavorted to second.
-
-It was Tom’s turn again. As thus far he had failed to connect with
-the ball, and as he was a pitcher and therefore supposed to be a weak
-batsman, the Lynton battery made the mistake of trying to put him out
-of the way expeditiously with straight balls. Tom let two strikes get
-by him before he realised that he was being offered perfectly good
-balls with little or nothing on them. Then he took a good deep breath
-into his lungs, gripped his bat more firmly, and swung at the next
-delivery. Bat and ball met squarely and pandemonium reigned while
-Buster tore around from second and Walter made for third. For the
-ball, arching gently, was on its way into centre field, quite safe
-from either left fielder or centre fielder. It was the latter who got
-it finally on the bound and hurled it back to second base. But by that
-time Buster had scored, Walter was on third, and Tom was doubling back
-to first base and safety.
-
-Perhaps Tommy had wearied himself overmuch in the coacher’s box. At all
-events, he failed miserably to live up to expectations, popping a short
-fly into pitcher’s hands. Young Peddie was the next up and the inning
-was as good as over, or should have been. But it is the unexpected that
-makes baseball what it is, and it was the unexpected that happened now.
-In some mysterious way, after swinging wildly and hopelessly at two
-wide ones and by the merest good luck refusing to notice a drop that
-went as a ball, Peddie managed to get his bat in front of a straight
-high ball. The ball trickled off the willow and went midway between the
-plate and the pitcher’s box. Off raced Peddie toward first and in raced
-Walter from third. It was the pitcher who finally fielded the ball,
-although the catcher had started after it, too. Perhaps the pitcher
-forgot for the moment that there were two out when he saw Walter
-scuttling to the plate. At any rate, what he did, instead of throwing
-to first for an easy out, was to make a frantic and hurried toss to the
-plate. The catcher, not expecting it, was out of position to take the
-ball, and, although he did manage to get it, he was a yard away from
-the rubber and it was an easy trick for Walter to slide around behind
-him and score.
-
-The game was won then and there, as it afterward proved. Tom reached
-third in the confusion and when Sanborn came to bat a minute later the
-Lynton pitcher and, in fact, the whole Lynton team, was up the air
-with a vengeance. Sanborn connected with an in-shoot and third baseman
-fumbled it. When he recovered the ball Sanborn was nearly to first and
-the baseman’s throw was hurried and wild. Sanborn kept on to second
-while first baseman chased back toward the fence for the ball, Tom
-scurried home, and young Peddie went to third. With the bases full,
-even with two out, the Blues’ chance of adding more runs to their tally
-seemed excellent. But Smith was over-anxious and when, finally, after
-spoiling four good ones, he started the ball away it went slowly down
-to second base and Peddie was caught off the bag.
-
-It only remained now for Tom to hold the advantage of three runs, and
-this Tom managed to do, even though Lynton showed a strong disposition
-to “come back” hard in her half of the tenth. Two hits were made off
-Tom and a runner got as far as third. Tom showed unsteadiness for the
-first time and it took all Walter’s skill to pull him through a bad
-situation when, with only one out and two on bases, one of Lynton’s
-best batters faced him. But Fortune stood by the Blues. A long fly made
-the second out and let in only one run, and Tom and his team-mates
-breathed easier. Then, recovering himself finely, Tom set to work and
-disposed of the last batsman with just four balls, and the game was
-over!
-
-Seven to five was the final score, and the Amesville Blues, bat-bags
-and luggage in hand, went back to the trolley station with something of
-a swagger, followed by a throng of young Lynton citizens who tried to
-appease their disappointment by jeers and hoots. But the Blues could
-afford to be magnanimous and forgiving, and so they trudged ahead and
-paid no attention to their tormentors and were soon in the trolley
-car, speeding back to Amesville.
-
-Thorny crowded in beside Tom and asked many questions. Where had Tom
-learned to pitch? Was he going to try for the high school team next
-year? Didn’t he really have anything besides that out-shoot? And was it
-a fact that he had never pitched in a game before? Tom replied frankly
-and modestly and told Thorny how he had acquired what little skill he
-had. And Thorny was both amused and admiring. The idea of studying the
-art of pitching from a book of instructions struck him as terribly
-funny.
-
-“Well, anyway,” he declared finally, “you’ll make a pitcher all right,
-Tom, if you just keep on with it. I don’t know how good your stuff is,
-because I didn’t stand up to you, but it seemed to fool those Lynton
-chaps pretty well, and you know they batted me pretty hard in the
-spring. But what I like about you is your action in the box. I’ll bet
-you’re a born twirler, Tom. You were as cool as a cucumber----”
-
-“Oh, no, I wasn’t!” laughed Tom. “I was pretty nearly scared to death
-at first!”
-
-“But you didn’t show it! No one would ever have known it! And that’s
-the best part of it, don’t you see? It’s easy enough to look cool when
-you’re feeling that way, but it’s harder than thunder to do it when
-your nerves are all pulling every whichway. I know, because I’ve been
-through with it. The first game I ever pitched was in my second year at
-grammar school. We had a little twelve-year-old team and used to play
-out by the car barns. I knew how to curve a ball about once in five
-times and the first day I pitched I was scared blue. But no one ever
-knew it, I’ll bet! And I pitched rings around the other team because
-I bluffed them into thinking I was a perfect wonder!” Thorny laughed
-reminiscently. “If you haven’t got the goods, Tom, the next best thing
-is to make believe you have, I guess. Only, at that, you’ve got to make
-the bluff good! If you try for the nine next spring, you’ll make it,
-sure as shooting. There’s only Pete Farrar in sight for next year and
-he isn’t much.”
-
-“I’d like to play mighty well,” acknowledged Tom, “but you see I have
-to work after school and so I guess I couldn’t.”
-
-“Work be blowed!” responded Thorny as emphatically as inelegantly.
-“You’ll have to find someone to take your job, Tom. We can’t afford to
-lose a good pitcher on account of a little work. Cummings and Wright
-will have to find someone else, I guess.”
-
-But Tom shook his head. “I need the money, Brooks,” he said earnestly.
-“I couldn’t afford to give up my job. I’m sorry.”
-
-Thorny frowned thoughtfully. Then his face cleared. “Well, we’ll find a
-way around that difficulty when the time comes. Meanwhile you keep on
-practising. Don’t get stale, old man. And, above all, don’t overwork
-that arm. The trouble is you’re likely to strain it or something
-handling heavy boxes or doing some other fool stunt. You’ve got to take
-care of it, Tom.”
-
-“I’ll try to, but I don’t believe I can lift boxes with just one hand.”
-
-“You oughtn’t to be doing it at all. A fellow that’s got the making of
-a perfectly dandy pitcher hasn’t any business risking his whole future
-the way you’re doing.”
-
-Tom smiled. “I guess my whole future wouldn’t amount to much if I
-didn’t work,” he said. “I’d like mighty well to pitch for the school
-if they wanted me to; I--I’m sort of crazy about playing ball; but I
-guess I wouldn’t be much good if I didn’t eat sometimes. And I wouldn’t
-be doing much eating if I quit working.”
-
-“Haven’t you got any folks to look after you?” demanded Thorny.
-
-“Only an uncle. And he wouldn’t let me stay around here and play
-baseball without I was making my living besides. If I stopped working
-here, I’d have to go out home and work on the farm.”
-
-“He’s a funny sort of an uncle,” growled Thorny. “I should think he’d
-be proud to have you pitch for the high school team. Most uncles would,
-I guess. Anyhow, you keep on with it, Tom. And, say, if you like, I’ll
-show you what I know about it. I can teach you a pretty good drop and
-a slow ball. And that’s about all you’ll need if you use your head and
-change your pace now and then. After all, it isn’t curves that wins;
-it’s using your ‘bean’!”
-
-“I’d like very much to have you show me,” answered Tom gratefully.
-“Only I guess I wouldn’t learn very quick, and it--it would be a heap
-of bother to you.”
-
-“No, it wouldn’t. I’d like it. Only thing is”--and Thorny frowned
-thoughtfully--“I’ll be going off to college pretty soon. Still, we
-might have a go at it Monday. And maybe we could get together a few
-more times before I leave. I’d like to see the team have a good pitcher
-to start out with next spring.”
-
-It was finally arranged that Tom was to call at Thorny’s house Monday
-after supper for his first lesson. “I’ll get a kid to catch you,” said
-Thorny. “Have you got a catcher’s mitt?”
-
-Tom hadn’t, but, after a moment of hesitation, recklessly promised
-to bring one. (After all, it would only cost him about a dollar at
-wholesale prices.) But Walter, who had been listening, came to the
-rescue by undoing his own mitt from his belt and passing it over.
-
-“You may take this, Tom,” he said. “I won’t need it until Wednesday and
-you can leave it with Thorny. How about the wrist, Thorny? Going to be
-able to pitch for us Wednesday?”
-
-“I guess so.” Thorny worked the wounded wrist experimentally and winced
-a little. “It’ll be all right then, I think. If it isn’t, Tom can take
-my place and I’ll play in the field.”
-
-“I couldn’t play Wednesday,” said Tom. “I’ll have to work. I’m only
-taking a week’s vacation.”
-
-“Won’t they let you off for the afternoon if you ask them?” demanded
-Walter.
-
-“I--I wouldn’t like to ask,” replied Tom. “Not so soon after vacation.”
-
-Walter was mutinous. “What’s the good of being able to pitch the way
-you can if you don’t do it?” he asked. “That makes me tired!”
-
-“I’m real sorry,” said Tom apologetically. Walter sniffed.
-
-“I thought, anyway, you’d play in the field for us. Say, I tell you
-what I’ll do, Tom. I’ll go around and see Cummings myself. I’ll tell
-him we need you that afternoon. He’s a good sort and----”
-
-“I--I’d rather you wouldn’t, please,” begged Tom. “I’d play for you in
-a minute if I could. But they’ve been mighty nice to me and it don’t
-seem fair to ask for an afternoon off so soon after a whole week’s
-vacation. If I could, I’d be playing baseball all the time. I’d rather
-do it than--than eat, I guess!”
-
-“Well, if Thorny can’t pitch Wednesday,” returned Walter doggedly,
-“you’ll just have to, work or no work. And that goes, doesn’t it,
-Thorny?”
-
-“Well, we certainly want to lick the Springs team,” said the pitcher.
-“And, if I can’t pitch, I guess it’ll be up to Tom.”
-
-“I would if I could----” began Tom. But Walter cut him short.
-
-“You will, too, if I have to go down there to the store and drag you
-out,” he said positively. “Here we are, fellows! Let’s give ’em a cheer
-now just to show we’re here!”
-
-And so, as the car turned into Main Street, a vociferous greeting
-issued from the rear seats of the trolley, announcing to the world at
-large that the Blues were home again with another scalp!
-
-Tom went back to Derry that evening by a late train and John Green and
-Star were at the station to meet him with the buggy. And all the way
-home to the farm Tom regaled the hired man’s ears with a history of the
-great victory, John Green, whose notions of baseball were scanty and
-confused, listening with flattering attention, while Star, nestling
-between Tom’s legs, wiggled with ecstasy. On Monday, Tom went back to
-Amesville and to the store and his labours. And for a fortnight life
-was busily monotonous. He didn’t play with the Blues again, either in
-the field or the pitcher’s box. Thorny’s disability only lasted a day
-or two and he finished out the season for the team. The Monday lesson
-didn’t come off, for the reason that a driving autumn rain set in
-Monday forenoon and lasted three days. After that the occasion never
-occurred when both Tom and Thorny were at liberty, and some ten days
-later Thorny went off to college in Illinois, and Tom didn’t see him
-again until near Christmas time.
-
-And then, one fine crisp autumn day, Sidney came back and Tom went down
-to the station at noon to meet him.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV
-
-COACH TALBOT MAKES A CALL
-
-
-It was awfully nice to have Sidney home again. Tom didn’t realise
-until now how much he had really missed him. And Mrs. Morris, too;
-and Mr. Morris to a lesser extent. They were all three sunburned and
-healthy-looking and very glad to be back once more. Mr. Morris left
-the carriage at his office and the others went out to Alameda Avenue
-together, Sidney rattling off a history of the summer with sparkling
-eyes, appealing to his mother every other minute for confirmation. In a
-lapse of Sidney’s chatter, Mrs. Morris told Tom how disappointed they
-had been when he had written that he could not visit them. “Sidney felt
-so badly,” she said, “that he immediately went out and tried to drown
-himself!”
-
-Sidney grinned. “The canoe went over,” he explained. “I was only about
-two or three hundred feet from shore and Mumsie was on the porch and
-she wouldn’t come out for me!”
-
-“But what did you do?” questioned Tom with wide eyes.
-
-“Oh, I sat on the end of the overturned canoe and worked in with my
-feet. I’d lost the paddle. The trouble was there was a breeze off shore
-and it took me nearly half an hour to get back. And Mumsie just sat
-there and watched me!”
-
-“But weren’t you frightened?” asked Tom, turning bewilderedly to Mrs.
-Morris.
-
-“Oh, no; I knew he could swim if he had to. And I thought it would
-teach him a lesson and make him more careful.” She laughed that little
-soft laugh of hers. “Sid was _so_ angry when he got back that his teeth
-chattered!”
-
-“I guess your teeth would have chattered if you’d had to sit on the
-bottom of that canoe for half an hour with the wind blowing on you?”
-Sidney grumbled. “I call it a mean trick, don’t you, Tom?”
-
-“I think----” Tom hesitated, casting a doubtful glance at Mrs. Morris.
-
-“Well?” she demanded, her eyes dancing.
-
-“I think,” he went on boldly, “it must have been terribly hard for your
-mother to stay on the porch!”
-
-“It was, Tom,” she confessed. “I’m afraid I’d never have done for a
-Spartan mother!”
-
-They wanted Tom to stay and have luncheon with them, but he had to
-refuse and hurry back to the store, promising, however, to return
-for dinner. That was a very merry affair, that first dinner at home,
-and Mr. Morris, usually somewhat grave and abstracted, was so jovial
-and flippant that Tom quite lost his awe of him. Afterward the boys
-adjourned to Sidney’s room and had a regular “talkfest,” as Sidney
-called it. Of course Tom had to tell about the game with Lynton and
-Sidney heard it with dancing eyes and wished at intervals he had been
-there.
-
-“Think of you pitching against those fellows!” he exclaimed. “Why, they
-must have had pretty near their regular line-up, didn’t they? Say, I
-guess Thorny is right.”
-
-“About what?” asked Tom.
-
-“About your giving up that job and playing on the team in the spring.
-Why, we’ve just got to have you, Tom! Farrar can’t pitch for a cent
-and he’s too stuck-up to take advice. We need you, Tom, and that’s all
-there is to it!”
-
-“But how can I play?” Tom demanded. “Cummings and Wright aren’t going
-to pay me wages for being in the store only about two hours all day
-long!”
-
-“We’ll have to think of a way out of it,” Sidney responded untroubledly.
-“There’s lots of time. Besides, something may happen. Maybe a wealthy
-relative will die before spring and leave you a lot of money.”
-
-Tom smiled. “I haven’t any relatives, wealthy or poor,” he said,
-“except Uncle Israel. And he doesn’t intend to die, and I wouldn’t want
-him to.”
-
-“Pshaw!” laughed Sidney, “it’s always a relative that you don’t know
-about or have forgotten that does that sort of thing. Anyway, that’s
-the way it is in the stories!”
-
-School began a few days later and Tom went back to lessons again. He
-was a sophomore this year, and Sidney was a junior. Tom had more and
-harder work to do than last year, but it went easier, probably because
-he had learned how to apply himself to study. With the beginning of the
-school year football came into its own again. Sidney was out for his
-old place at right-end on the high school eleven and, although now and
-then he allowed himself to be beguiled into pitching and catching with
-Tom, his visits to the open lot after dinner were usually made with a
-football tucked under his arm. He showed Tom how to punt and drop-kick
-and catch and throw, but Tom’s heart was not in it and all the time he
-was chasing the elusive pigskin his hands were itching for a baseball.
-Sidney, however, declared that there was plenty of time for baseball
-when spring came again and was so full of football that he had time for
-little else.
-
-At the store Tom had stocked up thoroughly with all the implements and
-apparel of the game and the sporting goods department did a rushing
-business in footballs, head-guards, shoes, canvas suits, shirts, and
-sweaters. The grammar school outfitted its team anew and Tom secured
-the contract for the togs, while from neighbouring towns mail-orders
-came in every day. In October he sent in his orders for winter goods:
-sleds, toboggans, skiis, snowshoes, skates, and hockey supplies. When,
-shortly after Thanksgiving, Amesville had its first snowstorm, Tom,
-with Mr. Cummings’s sanction, took possession of one entire window and
-stayed up half of the night dressing it.
-
-With packing cases and boards from the basement he built up an
-elevation at one back corner and covered it and the floor of the
-window as well with sheets of cotton-batting. Over this he sprinkled
-powdered mica. Four evergreen shrubs in tubs were borrowed and placed
-at the back. (“Evergreens from Davis the Florist, 163 Main Street,” was
-the inscription which adorned them.) Then Tom arranged his exhibit.
-A toboggan with a stunning red cushion was tilted down the incline,
-skiis and sleds were displayed enticingly, at the back, hockey sticks
-were crossed and pucks laid at the intersections, and a row of skates
-made a border along the front. Snow-shoes with brave scarlet tassels
-were there, too, while more colour was supplied to the frosty scene by
-gaudy toboggan caps, madly-hued Mackinaw jackets, and high-school and
-grammar-school pennants. Tom had had the idea of that window in mind
-a long time and so there was no hesitation when the opportunity came.
-Even so, however, it was after one o’clock when he went outside to
-stand in the snowstorm and take a final, admiring view of the result.
-It was, he decided, well worth the trouble and the loss of slumber,
-and he put the lights out, locked up, and trudged home, through four
-inches of feathery snow, well content. That window display caused much
-interest and comment. Even the papers called attention to it, and as
-long as the snow lasted rows of small red noses were pressed daily
-against the panes while the eager eyes of small boys gazed covetously
-on the contents and youthful hearts doubtless longed for the advent of
-Christmas.
-
-Meanwhile the High School Football Team was doing brave deeds and
-winning many laurels. Tom got an afternoon off when the final and most
-important game of the year was played and had his first real experience
-of football from the spectator’s viewpoint. He got awfully excited
-when, at the end of the second period, Petersburg was four points
-ahead, and far more excited when, just as the game was drawing to its
-close and defeat for Amesville seemed certain, there came a forward
-pass, a final desperate attempt on the part of the Brown-and-Blue, and
-Sidney, taking the ball far over on the side of the field, raced and
-dodged and tore his way through the Petersburg army and landed the
-pigskin seven yards from the goal-line! Nothing could stop Amesville
-then! Three downs took her across, Captain Neely kicked the goal, and
-victory perched on the waving brown-and-blue banners of Amesville!
-
-Once through with football, Sidney went as enthusiastically into
-hockey, mourning the period of inactivity that must elapse before Jack
-Frost took possession of the world and froze the ponds and streams.
-Sidney fulfilled his promise to show Tom how to use a hockey stick
-that winter, for the High School Athletic Association built by popular
-subscription a rink on a piece of vacant ground across the street from
-the school. Tom’s instruction usually took place at lunch hour, when
-the surface was so congested that real skating or hockey was out of the
-question. Tom learned quickly and Sidney declared flatteringly that he
-could make the team if he had the time for it.
-
-Christmas came and went. It was a very busy season for Tom and the
-sporting goods department did a wonderful business. A year ago he would
-have laughed at the idea of there being as many sweaters in the world
-as Cummings and Wright sold that year in the holidays! Tom had had a
-factory turn out a brown coat-sweater with a broad blue band around the
-middle, and those went like hot cakes.
-
-The first of the new year Tom moved from Mrs. Cleary’s to a larger and
-more comfortable room on Turner Street. In many ways he was sorry to
-leave, as sorry, perhaps, as the Clearys were to have him. But his new
-abode was much nearer the store and the school, the house was a better
-one, and his new room well furnished. Besides, he could get his meals
-under the same roof, which was an advantage. To be sure, it was going
-to cost him well over a dollar more to live each week, but now he was
-receiving his full wages of five dollars, for the pump had at last
-been fully paid for and he held Cummings and Wright’s bill-of-sale for
-it. He meant in the spring to take formal possession of it and have
-it brought to town and stored in the basement of the store, where,
-perhaps, it might find a purchaser. At Christmas his employers had
-presented him with a five-dollar gold-piece and Uncle Israel had given
-him the same amount, although it was in greasy one- and two-dollar
-bills instead of shining metal. So, on the whole, he felt quite
-affluent as he took possession of his new room.
-
-It was on the front of the house and looked out into a quiet,
-shabby-genteel little street in which boarding-houses and small
-shops were indiscriminately mixed. But there were maple trees along
-the sidewalk and a good-sized yard at one side of the house, and,
-in summer, as he knew, for he had passed the house quite often on
-his way to school, beds of geraniums and coleus. The landlady was a
-grim-looking but kind-hearted elderly woman who supported a rather
-worthless husband. Mr. Tully was always, it seemed to Tom, looking for
-work and never finding it. He was a likable sort of little man, for all
-his failings, and he and Tom got to be good friends in the course of
-time. There were many roomers at Mrs. Tully’s and at dinner the long
-table held always a dozen or more boarders. The food was sufficient,
-but lacked what Tom called the “filling” qualities of Mrs. Burns’s
-viands. He often sighed for one of the latter woman’s beef stews
-with dumplings! At Mrs. Tully’s, if they had beef stew it was called
-something else and served in dishes so tiny that Tom mentally referred
-to them as “sample trays.”
-
-The other members of the household were mostly clerks, many of them
-employed at Miller and Tappen’s. There was one, however, Mr. George,
-who had a more fascinating occupation. He was a private detective in
-the employ of the railroad company, although Tom did not discover this
-fact, which was not generally known, until he had been at Mrs. Tully’s
-for a month. Then it was Mr. Tully who told him. Mr. Tully liked to
-come to Tom’s “third-floor-front” in the evenings when Tom was at home
-and, occupying the easy-chair, which he grumblingly declared was the
-only comfortable chair in the house, put his feet on the window-ledge
-and fill the room with the strong, acrid smoke of his big brown
-meerschaum pipe. Somehow Tom didn’t mind his presence in the least and
-could study quite as well when Mr. Tully was sitting there in silent
-meditation as when he was alone. Mr. Tully was very fond of talking,
-especially of Mr. Tully and the things he had done in his time, but he
-never interfered with Tom’s studies.
-
-That winter was a mild one in that part of Ohio, although there was
-one fierce blizzard in late February which marooned Mr. Cummings, Joe
-Gillig, Miss Miller, and Tom in the store all one night! It was not
-until five in the morning that the storm abated sufficiently to allow
-Miss Miller to get home and the men to wade to the restaurant across
-the street and eat what was their first real meal in fifteen hours!
-The snow stayed on the ground nearly a week and thereby prolonged
-the winter sports considerably. It was one evening at that time that
-Tom had his first breath-taking ride down Sumner’s Hill on Sidney’s
-toboggan. He didn’t forget it for a long while, for it was as nearly
-like flying as anything he ever expected to experience. They made three
-trips up the hill that evening and as many down, while a big white
-moon sailed overhead and seemed to look down companionably on them.
-Tom would have had a perfectly dandy time all the evening had not
-Sidney insisted on filling the toboggan to its capacity with girls on
-the second trip. Tom tried to escape, but Sidney insisted that he was
-needed at the back, and so Tom, with what little grace he could find,
-squatted behind May Warner, who was his particular detestation, and
-almost dropped off when half-way down the long, steep hill because he
-refused to hold on to May and there wasn’t much else he could reach!
-
-March came in like a lion, but soon tamed down, and a week of mild,
-sunny days set the boys thinking of baseball. Even before this the
-candidates for the high school team had been at work in a desultory
-sort of way. There was no real baseball cage at their command, but a
-long room in the basement of the school had been converted to their
-use by placing wire screens over the high windows, and here a certain
-amount of pitching and batting practice was gone through with. Owing,
-however, to the poor light down there, this indoor work could hardly be
-said to be very beneficial.
-
-The baseball leader this year was Frank Warner, brother of May, a
-senior-class fellow and not particularly popular. There was nothing
-much wrong with him, save that he was what the fellows called “chesty.”
-His father was president of the Traders’ National Bank, the largest
-institution of the sort in that part of the state, and Frank couldn’t
-forget the fact, it seemed. His “chestiness” made him scornful of
-advice and impatient of authority. But he _could_ play ball; there was
-no doubt about that; and it was to that fact that he owed his election
-to the captaincy. He played second base and was the best batsman the
-team had possessed in many years. As a leader he was as yet an unknown
-quantity, and it was an open secret that the athletic association had
-hesitated some time before endorsing his election, which hesitancy
-was due to the well-known fact that he took unkindly to advice and
-criticism, and the fear that he might not get along well with the coach.
-
-The coach was a former high school boy named Talbot. He was no longer
-a boy, being a sturdy young man of twenty-six and a promising lawyer
-in Amesville. But Mr. Bennet A. Talbot’s practice was as yet not
-large enough to prohibit him from giving much time every spring to
-the coaching of the baseball team, an unremunerative task which he
-performed for sheer love of the game and loyalty to the school. When
-a youngster he had been known as “Bat,” a nickname derived from his
-initials, and the appellation still held. A better man to take charge
-of a group of boys couldn’t have been found, for he was still very
-much of a boy himself in feelings, able to get a boy’s viewpoint,
-sympathetic, and enthusiastic. But Mr. Talbot insisted on obedience,
-and the school in general awaited with frank interest the first clash
-of wills between coach and captain.
-
-Both Thorny and Walter White were gone from the team this spring, but
-Walter was still in Amesville and took much interest in the team. It
-was Walter who continually insisted that Tom should come out for the
-nine and who finally brought the matter to the coach’s attention, with
-the result that Mr. Talbot called on Tom in the store one afternoon in
-late March.
-
-“Walter White,” he said, “tells me that you can pitch, Pollock. Now, we
-need pitchers the worst way this spring. We’re pretty nearly destitute
-in that line. What’s the matter with your trying for the job, Pollock?”
-
-Tom explained that his work prevented. Mr. Talbot frowned, just as
-Thorny had done, and was inclined to belittle the excuse. When,
-however, Tom mildly inquired how he was to earn his board and lodging
-if he gave up his position in the hardware store, the coach was at a
-loss.
-
-“If we were a professional team,” he replied with a smile, “we could
-pay you a salary, but I’m afraid as it is we can’t. But I’m sorry.
-White says you’ve got the making of a good pitcher, and it seems too
-bad that we can’t get your help. I suppose there is no way that you
-could arrange with your employers to get off in the afternoons?”
-
-“I don’t think so, sir. You see, I’m only here, anyway, a few hours a
-day--except on Saturdays. Besides, Mr. Talbot, I can’t pitch much. I
-guess Walter was sort of--sort of exaggerating.”
-
-The coach went away dissatisfied, and Tom sighed regretfully for what
-might have been. An enticing vision of Tom Pollock, attired in the
-brown-and-blue of Amesville High School, standing commandingly in the
-pitcher’s box and dealing puzzling curves to a bewildered opponent,
-came to him, and he sighed again as he folded up a pair of running
-trunks and laid them away in their flat pasteboard box.
-
-Sidney evolved all sorts of schemes for Tom’s emancipation from labour,
-including a popular subscription to reimburse him for his wages and a
-direct appeal by the athletic association, backed up by the school in
-general, to Cummings and Wright!
-
-“But I can’t pitch much, anyway!” Tom would declare, at last a bit
-impatient. “You seem to think I’m a wonder, but, shucks, I wouldn’t
-last two innings against Petersburg! All I’ve got is an out-shoot and a
-straight ball!”
-
-“Yes, a straight ball that goes about ninety miles an hour and crosses
-the plate so fast you can’t see it until ten minutes after! And you’re
-learning the drop, too! Of course, I don’t claim that you’re as good as
-Thorny Brooks yet, but I do say that if you came out and let Bat Talbot
-get hold of you you’d be a peach by the middle of the season. And I
-think it’s a shame you can’t!”
-
-And Tom thought so, too, although he didn’t say it!
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV
-
-THE PUMP CHANGES HANDS
-
-
-In April, after the roads dried off, Tom engaged one of Malloy’s trucks
-to bring the pump in from the farm. It cost him ten dollars and he
-sometimes doubted the wisdom of it. Uncle Israel remitted the storage
-charge when confronted with the money.
-
-“Guess,” he said, “as Cummings knocked off four dollars and a half to
-you, Tom, we won’t say anything about storage. I guess you’re a fool,
-though, to pay those men ten dollars to lug that thing to town, because
-you’ll never sell it for more’n that.”
-
-Tom rather doubted it himself, but he went through with it and in due
-time the pump, a rather cumbersome and very heavy affair, was deposited
-in the basement of the hardware store. It was Mr. Cummings who advised
-the expenditure of further money in the shape of an advertisement in a
-morning paper and who helped write it.
-
-“I guess,” he said, “we won’t put any price on it. We’ll just say,
-‘Cheap for cash.’ If anyone comes to look at it, you leave him to me.”
-
-Tom was very glad to, for he greatly doubted his ability to conduct
-advantageous bargaining. The advertisement ran three mornings a week
-for over a month and cost Tom five dollars and twenty cents and brought
-no returns. Nor did a card displayed at the back of the store, setting
-forth in Tom’s best lettering the fact that a rare bargain awaited some
-lucky purchaser, do any better. Tom had almost forgotten the existence
-of the pump when, one morning in April, he stopped on Main Street to
-watch the excavating for a new office building. The contractors had
-struck water at a depth of some eighteen feet below the street level
-and the workmen were wading and splashing about in a good twelve inches
-of it. They had one pump at work, but it was quite evident to the
-spectators that fringed the railing that the pump was making little
-if any headway. A middle-aged man with a perplexed expression emerged
-from the temporary office and, accompanied by a subordinate, watched
-the work for a moment. As the two men were within a few feet of Tom, he
-could not help overhearing what was said.
-
-“That thing isn’t doing enough work to earn its oil,” said the
-contractor disgustedly, nodding to the pump and the long length of big
-hose that ran down to the water. “Brown and Cole say they can’t ship
-until next week. Funny thing we can’t get a pump nearer than Chicago!”
-
-“‘Next week!’” responded the foreman bitterly. “What’ll I be doing
-until next week with all this gang? I don’t dare lay them off. Stevens
-is after men for that new job of his.”
-
-“Bailing wouldn’t help much, I suppose.”
-
-“Not a bit, save to keep them at work. The water’s running in faster’n
-we can pump it out. Sure, it’s a regular spring we’ve struck, I’m
-thinking.”
-
-“No, it’s not a spring, Jim; it’s a subterranean stream that flows
-between that gravel and the clay underneath. With another pump I guess
-we could hold it all right. Meanwhile, though, we’re losing a couple of
-hundred dollars a day and getting behind on the contract.”
-
-“Subterranean it may be,” replied Jim disgustedly. “I don’t know if it
-is or not, but it’s holdin’ us back from the work. I know that. What’s
-the matter with gettin’ a lot of hand-pumps, sir? The water company’ll
-be havin’ one or two, maybe, and the plumbers----”
-
-“Good idea, Jim! At least it’ll help and it’ll keep those dagos busy.
-If we’ve got to keep them, we might as well make them work. I’ll see
-what I can do.”
-
-He turned away and hurried through the crowd. But Tom was after him.
-
-“Excuse me, sir,” he said, touching the contractor’s arm. “But I heard
-you say something about a pump.”
-
-“Eh? Yes, what of it? Know where I can get one--buy, borrow, or steal?”
-
-“I--that is, Cummings and Wright have one for sale. It’s only been used
-twice and it’s in perfect condition, sir.”
-
-“Thanks. I’ll have a look at it. Wish I’d known about it two days ago.
-What make is it?”
-
-Tom told him and he nodded. But Tom couldn’t answer the other questions
-the contractor put as they hurried up the street. In the store Tom
-left the contractor and hurried to the office after Mr. Cummings, who,
-fortunately, was in. A few words explained the situation and in a
-minute Mr. Cummings and the contractor were on their way downstairs.
-In an almost incredibly short space of time they emerged again, the
-contractor hurried away and Mr. Cummings, smiling broadly, sought Tom.
-
-“You’re in luck, Tom,” he announced. “He jumped at it. They’re going to
-haul it away in ten minutes.”
-
-“He bought it?” asked Tom eagerly.
-
-“No, I made him a present of it,” laughed Mr. Cummings. “For sixty
-dollars.”
-
-“Sixty dollars! Why--why, it only cost that much when it was new!”
-ejaculated Tom.
-
-“Sixty-four and a half, son. He’d have paid a hundred, I guess, if I’d
-asked it. He’s losing that much every day for the want of it. Oh, he
-was tickled enough to get it for sixty! There’s no kick coming from
-him. And I guess you’re not kicking either, are you?”
-
-“No, sir! I--I’m awfully much obliged. If you don’t mind, Mr. Cummings,
-I’d like you to take out that four and a half.”
-
-“Commission, eh? Nonsense, Tom; we don’t want that four-fifty. We’ve
-more than got our money back on it, son. You want to remember that that
-pump didn’t cost us sixty-four and a half, not by fifteen dollars and
-more. We’re satisfied. He’s going to mail his check for the money. What
-shall I do with it--endorse it over to you or give you the money?”
-
-“I guess--I guess you might just endorse it, sir. I think I’ll start a
-bank account with that!”
-
-“A good idea, son, a mighty good idea. Take it over to the Trust
-Company and they’ll give you four per cent. on it. Nothing like having
-a savings account, Tom.”
-
-Tom told Sidney of his good fortune at lunch hour and Sidney smote him
-triumphantly on the back, inducing a severe cough. “Now,” cried Sidney,
-“you can afford to give up your job and pitch for us!”
-
-“Do what?” gasped Tom.
-
-“Why, leave the store and come out for the team! What’s to prevent you
-now?”
-
-“Say, Sid, how long do you suppose sixty dollars would last if I had to
-pay for my room and meals out of it?”
-
-Sidney’s face fell. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t last very long,” he
-acknowledged, sobered. “Maybe--maybe three months. Then you could go
-back to work again.” He brightened. “What’s the matter with doing
-that?” he demanded.
-
-“I don’t believe they’d take me back,” answered Tom with a smile for
-the impracticable suggestion.
-
-“Oh, you could get a job somewhere else,” answered his chum easily.
-
-“Maybe I could and maybe I couldn’t. Anyway, I wouldn’t want to leave
-Cummings and Wright’s, even to play baseball! Who’d look after my
-sporting goods for me?”
-
-“Oh, hang your old sporting goods!” said Sidney disgustedly. “If you
-had any--any patriotism, any right feeling, you’d come out and help the
-team, Tom! Why, say, you ought to see Pete Farrar in the box. He--he’s
-a--a fake, that’s all he is, a regular fake!”
-
-“Isn’t there anyone else?” asked Tom sympathetically.
-
-“Three or four,” said Sidney gloomily. “Bat’s trying his best to
-develop them, but they’re all pretty green. There’s Toby Williams. You
-know him, don’t you? He’s in your class. He’s the best of the lot. He
-pitched for the grammar school a couple of years ago, but he’s only
-fifteen and hasn’t much on the ball. Oh, we may pull through with what
-we have, but we certainly need a real pitcher. The funny part of it is
-that Pete Farrar thinks he’s a regular wonder, Tom. He and Frank Warner
-are great cronies, you know, and maybe if we had a decent pitcher Frank
-wouldn’t let him into the box in a big game. He seems to think Pete’s
-all right. Has an idea, I guess, that as long as he’s playing second it
-doesn’t matter who’s in the box!”
-
-“Doesn’t seem as if Frank Warner could cover the whole field,” objected
-Tom.
-
-“Oh, he thinks--I don’t know what he thinks! Bet you there’ll be a
-mix-up between him and Bat Talbot pretty soon. Bat won’t stand much
-funny-business.”
-
-“When do you play your first game?”
-
-“Two weeks from to-morrow; Y.M.C.A. Team. They’ll beat us, of course,
-but Bat says it’ll give us good practice.”
-
-“That’s a Saturday, isn’t it? I guess I’ll try and get out to see it.
-How are you hitting, Sid?”
-
-“Rotten! So we all are. Bat had us at the net over an hour yesterday
-and he was hopping mad at the way we missed them.” Sidney chuckled.
-“He told Buster he swung at the ball with--what was it he said? Oh,
-‘with all the ineffable grace of a derrick!’ Buster was so mad he
-almost swallowed his tongue trying to keep it still!”
-
-“That _must_ have been hard for Buster,” replied Tom, with a laugh.
-“Guess I’ll certainly have to get out some day and see your wonderful
-team at work!”
-
-Sidney gazed at him reproachfully. “If you were half-way decent,” he
-said, “you’d come out and help instead of poking fun at us!”
-
-At Mrs. Tully’s boarding-house dinner was served at the fashionable
-hour of six-thirty, and quite often Tom had nearly a half-hour to wait
-after getting home from the store. Sometimes he made use of the interim
-to study the morrow’s lessons, sometimes he read the morning paper,
-turning first of all to the baseball and sporting news, and sometimes,
-if the weather was fair, he sat on the front steps and conversed with
-whoever turned up there. With the advent of warmer weather it was
-almost always pleasanter on the front steps than indoors. The grass
-in the little plot in front began to take on a tinge of new green and
-the shrubbery that hid the party fence along the side-yard showed
-swollen buds. One spring-like evening, a day or two after the last
-recorded talk with Sidney, Tom came downstairs after washing for dinner
-and seated himself on the top step at Mrs. Tully’s. None of the other
-boarders were there and after a moment Tom, hands in pockets, possessed
-of a restlessness that made sitting still uncomfortable, wandered past
-the newly raked flower bed and into the side-yard. There was a long
-stretch of turf there, flanked on one side by the hedge and fence and
-on the other by a gravel walk which led along the side of the house,
-under the parlour and dining-room windows, to a gate in a brown board
-fence. This fence hid the back-yard where the clothes were dried and
-where the ashes were kept until, on Monday mornings, Mr. Tully, attired
-in blue overalls, rolled them out in four big galvanised iron barrels
-to the sidewalk, whistling “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Just what
-connection there might be between ashes and the star-spangled banner,
-Tom couldn’t make out; but Mr. Tully always whistled that particular
-tune and nothing else on such occasions.
-
-Viewing the stretch of turf which in olden days would have made a fine
-bowling green, and the brown board fence, Tom had an idea. Ceasing
-his own whistling and bringing his hands smartly from his pockets,
-he turned and hurried up two flights of stairs to his room. When he
-returned he had a baseball in his hand. Measuring off the proper
-distance, Tom faced the division fence and began to throw the ball at
-it. It was rather a noisy operation and every moment he expected to
-hear remonstrance from Mrs. Tully. But he had thrown and recovered the
-ball a dozen times and his arm was getting nicely limbered up before
-anything happened. Then footsteps crunched on the path and Tom looked
-up to see Mr. George observing him with smiling interest.
-
-The railroad detective was rather disappointing in appearance, judged
-by one’s usual notion of what a detective should look like. He was
-tall and square-shouldered, had a large face with high cheek-bones and
-a prominent nose, and wore a black moustache that was clipped short.
-There were rather heavy brows over a pair of mild brown eyes and his
-cheeks were rather ruddy. Altogether, he looked prosperous and healthy
-and, above all, peaceable. He invariably wore dark Oxford clothes,
-but had a passion, it seemed, for loudly hued neckties. A rather heavy
-gold fob dangled into sight occasionally from a waistcoat pocket and a
-very big diamond ring adorned a finger of his left hand. At table Mr.
-George was not talkative. Neither was he taciturn. He never, however,
-made mention of his business. He and Tom always spoke when they met,
-but beyond that their acquaintance had not progressed. Now, though, he
-began conversation at once.
-
-“What are you pitching?” he asked, crossing the grass to a position
-behind the boy.
-
-“Just an out-curve, or trying to,” replied Tom, a trifle embarrassed.
-
-“Let’s see it,” said the other.
-
-Tom pitched and made rather a mess of it. “I’m not very good at it,” he
-murmured deprecatingly.
-
-“What you want is something to pitch across,” said the detective. “Wait
-a minute.” He set off to the back-yard and was soon back with the
-galvanised iron lid of an ash barrel. He set it on the grass some six
-feet from the fence. “That’s rather a big plate, isn’t it?” he asked
-with a smile. “Now let her go.”
-
-Tom, who had picked up his ball again, obeyed, and Mr. George nodded.
-“That’s not bad for a ‘roundhouse curve,’ son. What you want to do,
-though, is to make ’em break sharper.”
-
-Tom viewed him in surprise and interest. “Can you show me how?” he
-asked eagerly.
-
-“I guess I might,” was the reply. Mr. George leisurely divested himself
-of his coat, laid it, carefully folded, on the grass and took the ball.
-“It’s some time since I tried this,” he explained, fingering the ball
-knowingly. “Now you watch, son. Better get behind me so’s you can see.”
-
-[Illustration: “Now you watch, son. Better get behind me so’s you can
-see”]
-
-Mr. George drew his arm back, brought his left foot off the ground
-and swung it around his right leg, and pitched. Down came arm and leg
-together and off went the ball. Tom watched it. He had just begun
-to tell himself that, after all, Mr. George had pitched only the
-straightest sort of a straight ball, when the flying sphere “broke”
-abruptly to the left and downward and slammed against the fence so
-forcibly that it rolled half-way back again.
-
-“Gee!” said Tom admiringly. “That was some curve!”
-
-“No curve about that, son. That’s an out-shoot. You see, your curve
-begins to break to the left almost as soon as it leaves your hand,
-but a shoot doesn’t break until it’s travelled part of the distance
-to the plate. Now you take an old-style in-curve, and that’s a good
-deal harder to pitch than an out-shoot, and put it over the inside of
-the plate. It isn’t hard for the batter because an in-curve never has
-as much on it as an out. But you make that in-curve an in-shoot, and
-it’s a puzzler. There was a fellow pitched with us two seasons down
-in Montgomery and he had an in-shoot that didn’t begin to break until
-it was right up to the plate. It was a dandy, I tell you. I tried to
-get him to show me that ball and he was willing enough, but he just
-couldn’t seem to explain it. I never could get it right.”
-
-“Did you--did you use to play baseball?” asked Tom with a touch of awe
-in his voice.
-
-The detective nodded. “Eight years at it--Southern, Central, and Texas
-leagues. That was ’most ten years ago now. There wasn’t anything in it
-and I quit before they threw me into the real bush. It isn’t bad as
-long as you’re young, but baseball isn’t any business for a man after
-thirty. And I’m getting on toward forty-five now. Let’s see your ball
-again. Here’s a drop that used to fool ’em some.”
-
-And it certainly was a drop! Mr. George wasn’t satisfied with it,
-explaining that his arm was all out of practice, but it almost made
-Tom’s eyes pop out! And the remarkable thing about the detective’s
-pitching was that he did it with seemingly no effort and the ball
-simply flew through the air! Tom wondered what would happen to the
-fence if he really tried to pitch a swift one!
-
-“I wish I could pitch like that,” he said enviously. “Or half as good.”
-
-“Maybe you will when you’ve been at it longer,” responded Mr. George.
-“Take it from me, son, there isn’t anything you can’t teach your
-muscles to do if you go at it right. Haven’t got a mitt, have you?”
-
-“No, sir.”
-
-“I was going to say, if you had, I’d catch a few for you. I’ll get one
-to-morrow and you and I’ll have some fun out here. I haven’t held a
-baseball for two years and it feels good.” He swung his arm around and
-made a grimace. “Stiff as a crutch,” he said. “Let’s see yours, son.”
-
-Tom stepped over and the detective ran his fingers up and down the
-boy’s arm and around his shoulder. Then he nodded approvingly. “You
-got a start, all right,” he said. “You got good stuff up there at the
-shoulder, and that’s where you need it. Done much of it?”
-
-“Pitching? No, sir, not much. I just started last spring. A fellow
-and I--he plays with the high school team--we used to pitch and catch
-sometimes of an evening. Then this summer I pitched in a couple of
-games for the Blues. They said I didn’t do so badly.”
-
-“Want to learn more about it?”
-
-“Yes, sir, very much. I tried to teach myself out of a book, but it’s
-pretty hard.”
-
-Mr. George sniffed. “There isn’t any book that’ll teach you, son. But I
-can. And I will if you want me to. There’s the dinner gong. To-morrow
-I’ll buy us a catcher’s mitt and we’ll have some fun, eh?”
-
-“Yes, sir, thank you. I wish, though, you’d let me buy the mitt. You
-see, Mr. George, I can get it at wholesale price.”
-
-“That so?” The detective pulled a roll of money from a pocket and
-peeled off a five-dollar bill. “Then you get me one, a good one, son.”
-
-“It won’t be more than a dollar and seventy-five cents, I guess,” Tom
-objected.
-
-“All right, but have it good. And if there’s anything left you bring
-along a mask. Might as well do this thing right, eh? And we better have
-a new ball, too. This one’s getting played out. Here, maybe you’ll need
-some more money.” And Mr. George put his hand to his pocket again.
-
-“I’ve got enough, sir, I think,” said Tom. “Anyway, it’s only fair for
-me to pay for something. You see, it’s me--I who am going to get the
-good of it.”
-
-“Oh, I don’t know,” replied the detective, slapping Tom on the shoulder
-as they passed around to the doorway. “I expect to get a bunch of fun
-out of it myself. And I guess it’ll do me good to limber some of the
-splints out of my arm. Anyway, if you don’t have enough, you let me
-know to-morrow. Practice is at six sharp, son!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI
-
-THE DETECTIVE DONS A MASK
-
-
-Almost every day after that Tom and Mr. George spent the half-hour
-preceding dinner in the side-yard. Frequently the half-hour lengthened
-into three-quarters and the two had to brave Mrs. Tully’s coldly
-disapproving glances when they sought the table. Tom, though, was
-too happy to mind, while Mr. George seemed always quite unconscious
-of having transgressed a rule of the house. The more Tom saw of
-the detective the better he liked him. When they were together Mr.
-George--Tom discovered in time that his full name was Benjamin Culloden
-George--forgot that he was nearly forty-five, and made Tom forget
-it, too. He was jolly and full of jokes, infinitely patient while
-instructing Tom in the mysteries of the in-shoot or the drop ball, and
-a veritable mine of anecdotes of the playing field. And, best of all,
-he was able to impart what he knew about pitching a baseball, as able
-to teach as Tom was eager to learn. And Tom learned, too, putting his
-whole heart and soul into mastering the intricacies of pitching. Once
-Mr. George said to him:
-
-“One thing I like about you, Tom, is you don’t say you understand when
-you don’t. You make me tell it all over again and then you go and do
-it. Lots of folks will say they know what you mean and then show that
-they haven’t got any idea!”
-
-“I guess I’m kind of stupid about that wrist work,” said Tom
-apologetically. “I--I don’t get the hang of it very well.”
-
-“Don’t you worry, it’ll come to you. It just takes practice, lots
-of practice. After awhile you’ll be snapping the ball away without
-knowing you’re doing it. Now you try again. Never mind about putting
-it over the plate; just throw at the fence. Snap her under now! That
-was better. Oh, never mind where the ball went. We don’t care about
-that--yet. See what I mean about the snap, don’t you?”
-
-“I see what you mean, all right, but I can’t get it--yet.”
-
-“That’s the idea! You can’t get it--_yet_. That means that you know you
-will get it finally, eh? Sure! Now, always remember that a ball curves
-the way you pinch it. It’s that pinch that gives the drag to it as it
-leaves your hand. The more drag the more spin, and the more spin the
-more curve. Only you don’t ever want to pitch an in-curve, Tom. You
-see, you’ve got to start it off with a round-arm delivery and that puts
-the batter on every time. He knows what’s coming, do you see? And he
-lams it! But if you give him an in-shoot he can’t tell what it’s going
-to be because an in-shoot starts off like any other ball. Curve ’em
-wide to the out, if you want to, but don’t do any ‘barrel-hoops’ on the
-in. One more now.”
-
-Mr. George was very strict about one thing, and that was not allowing
-Tom to overwork his arm. “Stop just as soon as it begins to heat up,”
-he would say. Often Tom begged to be allowed to continue when that
-condition of affairs was reached, but the detective was firm on that
-point. “Nothing doing, Tom. That’ll be all for this time. You can’t
-afford to monkey with a good arm like that.”
-
-By the first week in May, Tom knew how to pitch an out-shoot and
-in-shoot and a drop. I say he knew how, but I don’t affirm that he
-always succeeded, for he didn’t. This discouraged him at times, but
-Mr. George only laughed. “Why, Tom, if you could do what you wanted to
-with that ball every time, you’d be a--a sort of infant prodigy that
-you read about! How old are you, anyway?”
-
-“Sixteen and a half.”
-
-“Well, that half may help some,” laughed the detective. “But you’ve got
-several years ahead of you yet before you’ll reach top-form, son. Why,
-I couldn’t do as well as you’re doing when I was seventeen!”
-
-At which Tom took comfort. Tom had read or heard of many more
-deliveries, such as the “fade-away,” the “knuckle-ball,” the “floater,”
-and the “spit-ball,” and was eager to have Mr. George show him about
-them. But his teacher put it off. “I can’t pitch a ‘spit-ball’ myself,
-Tom,” he said. “That came along after I quit the game. I know how
-it’s done and some day we’ll have a try at it. Same way with the
-‘knuckle-ball’ and a lot of the other ‘freaks.’ What you want to do now
-is to learn control. You’ve got enough to start on; three good breaks
-and a straight ball is enough for any pitcher. After that it’s just
-a matter of putting the ball where you want it, fooling the batter,
-teasing him with the wide ones, sneaking in the good ones under his
-nose, changing your pace, and having him hit too soon. Oh, there’s a
-lot in the pitching game besides just curving the pellet, son! Why, I
-knew a fellow once, Purdy of the old Bristol team it was, who didn’t
-have a thing on the ball except an out-shoot, ‘two fingers only’ we
-used to say. Of course he knew others, but they wouldn’t work for him.
-Well, that old side-wheeler used to go into the box and have them
-eating out of his hand! Yes, sir, he just used his head, Gus did, and
-the way he’d serve ’em what they didn’t want and make ’em bite at
-’em was a caution! Why, fellows used to say that they’d rather go up
-against almost any of the big-uns than Gus Purdy when Gus was really
-pitching! You want to remember that there’s all kinds of hitters in
-the world: hitters that want them high and hitters that like ’em low
-and hitters that will reach for ’em and hitters that won’t. And here’s
-another thing, Tom. Bear in mind that the plate is only a pretty narrow
-contrivance after all, but that the distance from a man’s knee to his
-shoulder is something like three feet. Get that?”
-
-“You mean it’s better to pitch for up and down position than
-for--for----”
-
-“Right-o! You get me! You’ve got more room up and down than you have
-across. Learn to put them just about where you want to from knee to
-shoulder. That worries a batter more than having ’em come to him near
-or wide. But you’ve got to study your man, son. It always seemed to me
-that the best of the pitchers in my time were sort of mind readers.
-Some of ’em just seemed to know what the batter was thinking and what
-he was looking for. Yes, sir, there’s a lot more to it than just
-pitching the ball!”
-
-Frequently, Tom went down to Mr. George’s room on the second floor and
-listened breathlessly while the former minor leaguer told of exciting
-battles on the diamond or of queer experiences he had met with. There
-was always much practical advice mixed up with the stories, and this
-Tom imbibed thirstily. How or when his pitching ability was to prove
-of use to him he did not know, for there was certainly no present
-prospect; but his enthusiasm never waned. Day after day, save such
-times as the detective was away or Tom was detained late at the store,
-the two spent the half-hour before dinner in the side-yard. There,
-masked and mitted, Mr. George stood behind the plate--a slab of wood
-of the correct dimensions had long ago taken the place of the barrel
-lid--and caught the balls that Tom hurled to him. Sometimes, and this
-was when Sidney had gone to some party or entertainment to which all
-his persuasion failed to entice Tom along, there was an extra session
-after dinner. On such occasions there was invariably an interested
-audience of at least one, the one being Mr. Tully.
-
-Mr. George was drilling Tom in control now and it was a good deal
-like hard work. They had made up a set of signals and Tom, ball in
-hand, would watch Mr. George’s fingers laid across the back of his big
-mitten and then do his best to put the ball over where it was wanted.
-High balls that cut the inner corner of the plate, high balls that
-passed over the middle of it, high balls that cut the outer corner,
-followed each other. Sometimes they were slow and sometimes fast. Mr.
-George was always calling for a change of pace. After the high balls
-came “waisters” and then low ones, and finally, as Tom’s control
-progressed, Mr. George would “mix them up.”
-
-“Here’s a ‘chopper,’” he would announce, referring to the mythical
-batsman. “What you going to give him, Tom?”
-
-And Tom, winding up, would put the ball over the plate knee-high.
-
-“That’s the ticket! Now here’s a ‘swinger,’ Tom.” Whereupon Tom would
-serve a waist ball that passed across the inside of the plate.
-
-“Strike! Sneak one over on him now.”
-
-A fast ball, between shoulder and waist, would follow and Mr. George
-would triumphantly announce another strike. “And now let’s get rid of
-him, Tom!”
-
-And Tom, his imagination almost visualising the non-existent ‘swinger,’
-would, with a sudden change of pace, pitch a slow one straight over the
-centre of the plate, and:
-
-“Striker’s out!” Mr. George would declare.
-
-Once they enlisted the services of Mr. Fales, a head clerk in Miller
-and Tappen’s shipping department, to stand at the plate with a bat and
-strike at the balls as they went by. He had explicit directions not to
-hit it, and probably didn’t intend to, but he did finally and the ball
-passed through an open window in the parlour and demolished the glass
-in the framed picture of Washington Crossing the Delaware. After that
-they got along with less realism.
-
-Tom pitched with very little “wind-up,” a fact which Mr. George greatly
-relished. One swing of his right arm, a short poise on the right foot,
-and then a long step forward and a good carry-through with arm and
-body. That was Tom’s style, and Mr. George declared he couldn’t better
-it. “I’m not saying that a hard ‘wind-up’ may not give more speed, but
-there’s a lot of lost effort in it. Besides that, it gives a runner
-a fine chance to steal on you. Why, I’ve seen three men in one game
-steal home on a pitcher with a long ‘wind-up.’ Nowadays, with a fast
-runner on bases, the pitcher cuts out the ‘wind-up’ and pitches from
-the shoulder, not taking any chances, but what’s the good of learning
-to pitch one way if you’ve got to pitch another way a dozen times in
-a game? Not that I’d advise a man who’d learned to pitch with a long
-‘wind-up’ to change his style, though. I wouldn’t. But I say to a
-fellow who’s just learning: Go through as few motions as you can. You
-notice I always twist myself into a bunch. It never did me any good,
-except maybe it let me pitch a faster ball. Control’s the thing, Tom,
-and it’s usually the pitcher who keeps his feet on the ground most who
-has it best. Anyway, that’s how it seems to me.”
-
-Meanwhile, the high school team had struggled through the first three
-games of its schedule, losing two and winning one. So far neither
-Farrar nor Williams had shown enough stamina to pitch the full nine
-innings, and Sidney reported that Mr. Talbot was getting rather
-discouraged. Tom had not yet found an opportunity to see a game
-played, for business at the store was pretty brisk and he hesitated to
-ask for an afternoon off. Such an afternoon came, though, and in an
-unlooked-for way.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII
-
-AFTERNOON PRACTICE
-
-
-It was a Thursday, languidly warm, and trade had been dull. Mr.
-Cummings wandered down to where Tom, having just got back from school,
-was placing selling marks on a new arrival of running shirts and trunks.
-
-“How’s the high school nine getting along, Tom?” he asked. “I saw they
-got beaten by the Y.M.C.A. team the other day.”
-
-“Yes, sir, rather badly. I haven’t seen them play yet, but I hear that
-they’re sort of up against it for pitchers this year.”
-
-“Haven’t seen them, you say? That’s so, you don’t have much chance, do
-you? What do you think of that, Horace?” Mr. Cummings turned to the
-junior partner, who was busy across the store. “Here’s Tom selling
-baseballs and bats and things and hasn’t seen a game of ball yet. Hard
-luck, eh?”
-
-Mr. Wright grunted and Mr. Cummings winked jovially at Tom. Then, to
-their surprise, Mr. Wright added, “I s’pose it is.”
-
-Mr. Cummings laughed. “It surely is,” he declared. “Tom, suppose you
-and I go and see a game this afternoon. I guess we won’t be needed
-here.”
-
-“They don’t play to-day, sir.”
-
-“Don’t they!” Mr. Cummings was palpably disappointed. “Thought I saw a
-lot of the boys going out toward the field awhile ago in playing togs.”
-
-“They have practice every afternoon, sir.”
-
-“Oh, that’s it! Well, what’s the matter with going out there and seeing
-them practice?”
-
-“I’d like to very much,” answered Tom, “if I’m not needed in here.” And
-he looked doubtfully across at Mr. Wright. The junior partner sniffed.
-“Guess we can do without you to-day,” he said almost graciously. “Don’t
-see what _you_ want to go tagging off to a ball game for, Joseph.” Mr.
-Cummings laughed again.
-
-“Just to keep Tom out of mischief,” he said. “Get your hat, Tom. Joe,
-if Mr. Wyman comes in about those locks, you tell him we got word
-to-day from the folks in Philadelphia and they’re on the way. Ought to
-be here by Saturday, sure. Come on, Tom.”
-
-They caught a car outside and Mr. Cummings pushed Tom into a rear seat.
-He chuckled as he selected a cigar from his case and lighted it. “Guess
-we did that pretty well,” he said. “If I had a bag of peanuts I’d feel
-as if I was going to the circus!” He seemed in real holiday mood.
-Of course they talked baseball until they left the car to walk the
-intervening block to the athletic field.
-
-“I suppose they don’t charge us anything to-day, Tom,” he said
-questioningly as they came in sight of the grounds.
-
-“No, sir.”
-
-“Too bad; I feel just like spending money! How do we get in?”
-
-Tom led the way to the gate and they went inside. A handful of boys
-were lolling on the seats of the grandstand, looking on, while on the
-diamond the first team and the scrubs were engaged in a game. Tom saw
-Sidney on the bench and waved to him. By the time they had found seats
-in a shady portion of the stand, Sidney had joined them.
-
-“Hello, Tom! How do you do, Mr. Cummings? Is this a holiday?”
-
-“It is for us, Morris,” chuckled Mr. Cummings. “Tom and I sort of
-sneaked off. Are you playing?”
-
-“Yes, sir, but I don’t bat for awhile yet,” replied Sidney, taking a
-seat beside them.
-
-“Then suppose you tell us what’s going on. Who’s that at bat now?”
-
-“That’s Sam Craig. He’s our catcher. We’re having a practice game with
-the scrub team, sir. The tall chap at the end of the bench is Frank
-Warner, our captain. And that’s Mr. Talbot standing behind him. He’s
-our coach, you know.”
-
-“Good, is he?”
-
-“Yes, sir, one of the best. Everyone likes him. Craig has fanned.
-That’s Pete Farrar coming up now. He’s our best pitcher.”
-
-“Then I suppose he can’t hit,” said Mr. Cummings.
-
-“Not very well. Nor,” added Sidney smilingly, “pitch much, either. He’s
-the best we have, though.”
-
-“Tom was telling me you were hard-up for pitchers. Can’t you find a
-good one in all that crowd? Why, you must have three or four hundred
-boys in school, haven’t you?”
-
-“Over four hundred, sir, but we haven’t found anyone who can pitch
-much. That is, except one fellow, and we can’t get him.”
-
-“How is that?” asked Mr. Cummings.
-
-“He has to work.” Sidney grinned at Tom, and Tom coloured. “If we got
-him to pitch for us, we’d be all right, I guess.”
-
-“Has to work, eh? That’s too bad. Something like Tom here, eh?”
-
-“Very much like him,” laughed Sidney. Mr. Cummings looked around
-questioningly. “It’s Tom I’m talking about, Mr. Cummings.”
-
-“Tom! Why, I didn’t know he could pitch ball.” Mr. Cummings faced Tom
-accusingly. “You never told me that. So you’re a young Walter Johnson,
-are you, son?”
-
-“Sid’s just talking,” murmured Tom. “I pitch a little, sir.”
-
-“He’s a dandy at it,” declared Sidney warmly, “and everyone wishes he
-could join the team. But of course he can’t.”
-
-“I suppose not,” agreed Mr. Cummings. “Too bad, too.”
-
-“Yes, sir.” Sidney was in perfect agreement. Mr. Cummings was silent a
-minute. Then, “I’d like to see you pitch, Tom,” he said.
-
-“It would be quite a treat,” said Tom flippantly. He was a bit
-embarrassed and the flippancy was meant to disguise the fact. Sidney,
-who had started to say something, closed his mouth and got up.
-
-“That’s three out. I’ll have to go. If you stay till we’re through,
-Tom, I’ll go back with you.”
-
-Tom looked doubtfully at Mr. Cummings. “What inning is it?” he asked.
-
-“Third. We’ll only play six, probably. It won’t take long. Better see
-it through.”
-
-“Of course we will,” replied Mr. Cummings with cheerful decision,
-stretching his legs comfortably over the back of the bench in front.
-“This is a holiday with us, Morris. Nothing to do till to-morrow!”
-
-Sidney laughed and hurried away into right field and Mr. Cummings
-turned to Tom. “How long you been pitching?” he asked.
-
-“Just since last year,” responded Tom. “Sid showed me a little about
-it and then I got a book and studied it. Now there’s a man at my
-boarding-house who used to play professional ball; pitched on some of
-the minor league teams for eight years; he’s teaching me a lot.”
-
-His employer observed him admiringly. “Tom,” he said, “you’re a smart
-kid, aren’t you? How old are you?”
-
-“Sixteen--and a half.”
-
-“Hm! You look more than that. I suppose now you’d like to play with
-these chaps, eh?”
-
-“Yes, sir, I’d like to very much.”
-
-“Well, I wish you could.” Mr. Cummings was frowningly silent for
-awhile. Pete Farrar--a long, rangy, and somewhat seedy youth of
-seventeen--was in the box for the school nine. He had an eccentric
-“wind-up” that included whirling his right arm around at the shoulder
-several times like a wind-mill. But most of the effort went into the
-“wind-up” and not enough, it seemed, into the delivery. At any rate,
-his performance that afternoon was pretty poor. He passed the first
-man up in the first half of the third and was hit for a two-bagger
-by the second. The scrubs got two runs across in that inning. Tom
-concluded that he liked the scrubs’ pitcher better. He was a youngster
-named Moran who, if he put on less “side,” seemed to have far better
-control. But perhaps, Tom charitably added to himself, this was an
-off-day with Farrar. As the teams changed places again Captain Warner
-went to bat. Mr. Cummings broke a long silence.
-
-“Tom,” he said, “couldn’t we fix it somehow so you could play ball? How
-many games do they play a week?”
-
-“Usually two, sir.”
-
-“Well, don’t it seem as if you could get off two afternoons?”
-
-“I’m afraid that wouldn’t do any good, sir, because, you see, I’d have
-to practise with the team if I was to play on it. I guess there isn’t
-any way I could play, Mr. Cummings, unless I was to quit working, and I
-couldn’t afford to do that.”
-
-“How much practice would it take?” persisted Mr. Cummings.
-
-“I don’t know, sir.”
-
-“Well, it seems to me that, if these chaps need you as badly as they
-say they do, it’s a shame you can’t play. And I’m going to see if we
-can’t fix it somehow, Tom. I suppose Horace will think I’m crazy,
-though,” he added half aloud.
-
-“I don’t mind not playing, sir,” Tom assured him. “And--and I wouldn’t
-feel right, anyway, about letting you pay me wages and then not being
-there.”
-
-“Humph!” said Mr. Cummings. “I guess it wouldn’t break us. Who’s this
-coming?”
-
-“Sidney Morris, sir. Oh, that’s Mr. Talbot with him!”
-
-“Thought so. Looks as if they were coming here, don’t it?”
-
-It did, and in a moment Sidney was introducing the coach to Mr.
-Cummings. Tom realised then that Sidney had brought Mr. Talbot over for
-a purpose. And the purpose was not long in declaring itself. There was
-a minute of polite conversation between the two men and then the coach
-got down to business.
-
-“Mr. Cummings,” he asked, “isn’t there some way by which we can get the
-services of Tom Pollock here? We need him pretty badly on the team.
-We’re in a regular hole as far as pitching goes. Of course I realise
-that he’s working for you and that you need him at your store, but it
-seems to me that in some way or other we might arrange things so he
-could pitch for us at least occasionally. We might not need him all the
-time. If he could pitch, say, one game a week, it would be a big thing
-for the school.”
-
-“I was just talking it over with Tom,” replied Mr. Cummings. “If it can
-be arranged, I’ll be glad, Mr. Talbot. But Tom says he would have to do
-a lot of practising with the team. Frankly, Mr. Talbot, if I had the
-whole say of it, I’d send him out here every afternoon, but my partner,
-Mr. Wright, isn’t--well, quite as sympathetic toward baseball as I am!”
-
-“I see. As to practising, why, Pollock’s right. But under the
-circumstances I guess we could be easy with him. You don’t expect a
-pitcher to do much more than play his position, you know. I guess
-we’d forgive him if he didn’t show up very brilliantly at bat and at
-fielding. What we want is someone who can stand up against some of the
-big teams we’re scheduled to meet this month and next and give us a
-chance to win now and then. We’ve got a pretty fair team this year.
-They’re smart fielders and they’ll do pretty well at bat in another
-week or so. But we’re certainly shy on pitchers, Mr. Cummings.”
-
-“Well, what’s your idea?” asked Mr. Cummings.
-
-“How about three afternoons a week during May and then, say, two after
-that? I wouldn’t ask Pollock to pitch more than once a week, but I’d
-like to have him come out and get used to the team and let the team get
-used to him. By the first of June I guess, if he practised once a week,
-it would be enough to keep him steady.”
-
-“I’m willing,” replied Tom’s employer, “and I’ll talk it over with my
-partner. If I can make him agree, it’ll be all right. And--oh, well,
-I’ll pretty near guarantee to talk Horace around! Anyway, we’ll settle
-it in a day or two. But, say, I’m taking your word for all this. How do
-I know he can really pitch? You ever seen him?”
-
-Mr. Talbot laughed and shook his head. “As a matter of fact, Mr.
-Cummings, I never have! I’m taking the boys’ word for it. Morris here
-says he can. Healey says so. And Hughes and two or three others.”
-
-“That’s all right,” returned Mr. Cummings gravely, thrusting his hands
-in his pockets and looking stubborn. “But I’m from Missouri. You’ll
-have to show me!”
-
-Sidney laughed. “What Mr. Cummings wants, I guess, is to have Tom pitch
-now.”
-
-“Want to try it?” asked Mr. Talbot of Tom.
-
-“If you want me to, sir.”
-
-“Well,” the coach hesitated, “it’s sort of short notice, I suppose, but
-maybe we’d better convince Mr. Cummings, Pollock. We want him to help
-us, you see. How would it do if you pitched for the scrubs the next
-inning or two?”
-
-“I’m willing,” replied Tom, “only----” He glanced at the clothes he was
-wearing.
-
-“Never mind about what you have on,” said Mr. Talbot. “You needn’t
-bat, and I guess if you take your coat and waistcoat off you’ll get
-along all right. They’re calling you, Morris. You’re up.” And as
-Sidney hurried across to the plate Mr. Talbot went on: “I hope you
-will succeed with your partner, Mr. Cummings, for we certainly need
-this chap out here with us. In any case, I’m very much obliged to you
-for your willingness to help us. Wouldn’t you like to look on from the
-bench?”
-
-Mr. Cummings arose with alacrity and, followed by Tom, accompanied the
-coach across to the other side of the diamond, where a place was found
-for him on the players’ bench. Buster Healey winked gravely at Tom.
-
-“Get on to Bat being sweet to old Cummings,” he whispered to Bert
-Meyers, who was seated beside him. “He’s after Pollock I’ll bet a
-dollar. Bet you he gets him, too!”
-
-Mr. Cummings was introduced to Captain Warner and one or two of the
-other boys and was quite in his element. Pete Farrar, farther along
-the bench, viewed Tom’s appearance with suspicion. Young Smith, bat
-in hand, waiting for Sidney to retire from the plate, turned his head
-toward the bench and whispered hoarsely:
-
-“Pete!”
-
-“Huh?” grunted Pete Farrar.
-
-“Good-bye,” said Smithie softly.
-
-Pete only grunted again.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII
-
-TOM TWIRLS FOR THE SCRUBS
-
-
-Tom realised, as he walked over to the mound and picked up the ball,
-that at least a portion of his audience was hostile. He could not
-expect Pete Farrar to be wholly pleased at his advent on the scene,
-and Pete’s demeanour showed that he wasn’t, while for some less easily
-explainable reason Captain Warner seemed far from friendly. Not that
-these things bothered Tom very much, however. He was naturally a little
-nervous, but I doubt if anyone guessed it. As luck had it, the first
-three batsmen to confront him were Kenny, Craig, and Farrar, the last
-trio on the first team’s batting-list. Tom knew nothing about them and
-so wisely relied on the scrub catcher to tell him what to offer.
-
-Tom presented a rather incongruous appearance in the box. He had
-removed his coat and waistcoat, tied his suspenders around his waist,
-and rolled up the sleeves of his blue-stripe shirt. Tommy Hughes had
-supplied him with a cap to take the place of the straw hat he had been
-wearing. His long trousers struck an odd note amongst the surrounding
-uniforms. On the bench, Mr. Talbot and Mr. Cummings sat side by side
-and watched interestedly, the latter a trifle anxiously as well. He was
-prepared to be very proud of Tom’s prowess and was mutely hoping that
-the boy would not, after all, prove a fiasco.
-
-Arthur Brown, who caught for the scrubs, knelt behind the plate and
-gave the signal for a fast, straight ball. Tom settled his cap with a
-tug at the visor, brought his arms back over his head, lifted his left
-leg in air a little, and pitched. Joe Kenny watched the ball cut the
-centre of the plate, waist-high, and heard it slap into the big mitt
-behind him. Then he tapped his bat on the plate, squared himself, and
-seemed to dare Tom to do it again. And Tom did it again, only this time
-the ball, instead of whizzing up to the plate, came with deceptive
-slowness and Kenny hit much too soon. Steve Arbuckle, the team’s
-manager, who was umpiring, watched the ball go dancing along outside
-third-base-line and announced:
-
-“Foul! Strike two!”
-
-After that Tom tried Kenny with an out-shoot and Joe wisely refused
-to offer at it and it went as a ball. Then came another ball, a drop
-that was too low, and then, getting the signal from Brown, Tom shot
-over a high one that cut the plate squarely in two. Kenny struck at it
-too late, whirled on his heel, and dragged his bat toward the bench. A
-chorus of approval arose from Buster and Tommy and some of the others,
-and Mr. Cummings turned beamingly to the coach.
-
-“How’s that?” he demanded. “That’s pitching ’em, isn’t it?”
-
-The coach smiled approvingly. “He looks good, Mr. Cummings. And I like
-the way he does it, too. Looks like a born pitcher to me.”
-
-“Of course he is!” declared the other convincedly, evidently forgetting
-that it was he who had evinced doubt of Tom’s ability. “That boy’s a
-wonder, Mr. Talbot!”
-
-Sam Craig was the slugging kind of a batter and wanted, as all free
-hitters do, a ball on the end of his bat. Consequently when, after Tom,
-at Brown’s demand, had offered a high fast ball on the outside of the
-plate and Craig had slammed at it viciously and narrowly missed it, the
-catcher signalled for a straight, low one, Tom shook his head. Brown
-signalled again, and again Tom refused. Mr. Talbot watched eagerly.
-
-“Brown’s signalling for something Pollock doesn’t want to give him,” he
-said softly to Mr. Cummings. “Evidently Pollock has a head as well as
-an arm.”
-
-“Head!” began Mr. Cummings. But at that moment, Tom and his catcher
-having reached an agreement, a slow in-shoot floated across the inside
-of the plate, Craig staggered away from it, and the umpire announced,
-“Strike two!”
-
-Craig got to first in the end, however, finally taking an inside
-ball on the handle of his bat and trickling it slowly toward third,
-so slowly that by the time third baseman had come in and got it and
-thrown it to first Craig was safe on his bag. But Farrar was an easy
-proposition. Three fast, straight balls and one slow teaser did for
-him, and he retired disgruntled to confide to Frank Warner that “that
-chump hasn’t anything but a fast ball and you can knock the spots out
-of him!”
-
-Buster Healey faced Tom with a grin. “Be easy with me, Tom,” he called.
-“I used to play with you!”
-
-Tom smiled. “Just tell me what you want, Buster,” he answered.
-
-“And you won’t give it to me,” grumbled Buster. “I know!”
-
-Whatever it was Buster did want, it is safe to assume that what he got
-was something quite different, for Buster, after popping a foul back of
-first base, went out on strikes.
-
-When Tom came back to the bench, Mr. Talbot was slipping his left hand
-into a catcher’s mitt. “Pollock, come over here and show me what you
-can do,” he said eagerly. “Unless your arm’s tired?”
-
-“Not a bit, sir.” So while the school team took the field and the
-scrubs went to bat again Tom pitched to the coach, explaining his
-deliveries as he sent them in.
-
-“Here’s an in-shoot, sir. I try to break it just in front of the plate,
-but it doesn’t always do it.”
-
-“Pretty good, though,” replied Mr. Talbot, tossing the ball back.
-“What’s your drop like, Pollock?”
-
-Tom showed him, and the coach scrambled the ball out of the dirt.
-“Seems to me,” he said finally, “you’ve got about everything, Pollock.
-Give me two or three fast ones now.”
-
-And Tom let himself go and slammed in a high one, a low one, and a
-“waister” that made Mr. Talbot beam.
-
-“Great stuff!” he said. “Where the dickens did you learn to pitch like
-that, Pollock?”
-
-“There’s a man who lives where I do,” replied Tom, returning to the
-bench, “who used to be a professional pitcher. He’s been teaching me
-for a month or more. Maybe you know him. His name is George.”
-
-“‘Big Ben’ George? Yes, but I never knew he’d been a ball-player. Guess
-I’ll have to get him to come out and coach our pitchers for us. He has
-surely done well by you, Pollock.”
-
-When the last of the next and fifth inning began, Tom faced Bert
-Meyers, the husky third baseman, and Meyers landed on Tom’s first
-offering and cracked it far into left field, getting two bases. As Tom
-did not yet trust himself to throw to bases, he left Meyers to his own
-devices, much to the surprise of that youth and to the chagrin of the
-scrub second baseman. Frank Warner was the next man up, and, as the
-captain was something of a hitter, perhaps it was as well that Tom
-gave him all his attention instead of sharing it with Meyers.
-
-Tom realised that it might be a diplomatic act to “let Frank down
-easy.” He was certain that the captain for some reason rather disliked
-him already, and knew that if he managed to strike him out that dislike
-would not lessen any. But the scrub team had gained a one-run lead in
-their half of the final inning and Tom concluded that to deliberately
-endanger the scrubs’ victory would be hardly fair, even if by so doing
-he managed to partly placate Captain Warner. So Tom set himself very
-carefully to dispose of the redoubtable one.
-
-On second, Bert Meyers was taking all sorts of leads and yelling like
-a Comanche Indian in an effort to disturb the pitcher. If he had only
-known it, he could have stolen third base with impunity, for Tom had
-determined to take no risks of hurriedly pegging the ball into the
-outfield. But Tom’s cool scrutiny fooled Bert. Every time Tom wound up
-Bert dashed up the base-line, but he always stopped short of a steal
-and scuttled back to safety as the ball went to the catcher. Bert was
-big and rangy, but not a fast man on bases.
-
-Tom’s first offering to Frank Warner almost brought about disaster.
-It was an in-shoot and it broke badly, passing over the plate “in the
-groove.” Frank swung at it and struck it and dashed for first, but the
-ball was a foul by a bare two inches when it struck back of third.
-After that Tom was more cautious. A wide one was wasted and then Tom
-worked a drop that fooled Frank so badly that the players on the bench
-chuckled audibly as he recovered himself after a vicious swipe at empty
-air. A rather ugly expression came into the captain’s face then. He
-didn’t like being made a fool of. A fast ball that went over too high
-counted against the pitcher. Then Frank landed on a low one and popped
-a foul into the stand. Tom had only one more to waste, and when Arthur
-Brown asked for a curve Tom shook his head. What he did send in was a
-slow ball, Frank, angry and anxious to hit, did just what Tom thought
-he would do. He struck too soon, the ball passed under his bat, and,
-although Brown dropped the strike, Frank was too disgruntled to try for
-his base.
-
-Tommy Hughes was easy for Tom, four pitched balls disposing of him,
-and the game was over, the scrubs winning by a score of seven to six.
-Arthur Brown, tossing aside his mask, intercepted Tom on his way to the
-bench. “That’s some pitching, Pollock,” he declared admiringly. “I’d
-like to catch you all the time!”
-
-“Well, I guess you did as much as I did,” answered Tom. “Glad I helped
-you win, though.”
-
-Frank Warner lounged over to where Tom, assisted by the proud and
-delighted Mr. Cummings, was donning his coat. “That’s quite a drop you
-have, Pollock,” he said patronisingly. “You want to practise up on your
-curves, though. It won’t do to break ’em over the plate, you know. Mr.
-Talbot says you’re coming out for the team.”
-
-“I don’t know yet. If I can, I will.”
-
-“Glad to have you. We need more pitchers.” The captain nodded
-carelessly and turned away. Mr. Cummings chuckled.
-
-“He’s sore because you struck him out, son,” he said. “I was glad you
-did, too. Sort of a stuck-up fellow, isn’t he?”
-
-Tom, Sidney, Mr. Cummings, and Coach Talbot walked over to the trolley
-line together and boarded the same car. Sidney, before he dropped off
-at Alameda Avenue, made Tom promise to come around to see him that
-evening. As they neared the store, Mr. Cummings, who had been talking
-with Mr. Talbot most of the way, turned to Tom.
-
-“Tom, you might as well go on home,” he said. “It’s almost half-past
-five. I’m going to talk to Mr. Wright about you while I’m feeling
-brave,” he added, “and I guess I’ll get on better if you’re not there.”
-
-“If there’s anything I can do to help,” offered Mr. Talbot, “I’ll be
-very glad to stop in with you.”
-
-“N-no, I guess not, thanks. If it comes out all right, I’ll let you
-know and Tom can start in with you Monday.”
-
-When Tom reached home he found Mr. George pitching at the fence in the
-side-yard. “Hello, Tom, you’re home early,” he said. “Haven’t been
-fired, have you?”
-
-“Not exactly,” laughed Tom. “I’ve been pitching for the high school
-scrub team. Five strike-outs in two innings, Mr. George!”
-
-“Well, that’s going some, Tom. Let’s hear about it.”
-
-So Tom recounted the happenings of the afternoon and the detective was
-delighted that Tom was to have a chance to put into practice what he
-had taught him. Mr. Talbot’s suggestion that he come out and coach the
-pitchers pleased him, too.
-
-“Say, I’d like to do that if I had the time,” he declared.
-
-“I think he’d like to have you. I know I would. Why don’t you talk it
-over with him? You know him, don’t you?”
-
-“Yes, Bat’s handled a few small cases for the railroad. That’s how I
-met him. He’s a nice fellow. Maybe I’ll look him up this evening and
-see what he says. Too tired to practice, are you?”
-
-“No, I’m not tired at all. I only worked two innings and didn’t have
-to bat. I guess I’ll rest a little while, though, first. What were you
-doing when I came in?”
-
-Mr. George smiled at the ball he held. “Say, I was trying to get the
-knack of the ‘knuckle-ball’ that fellow Summers, of the Detroits,
-pitches. Haven’t got it yet, though. Here’s the idea, though, as I
-figure it out. You double back your middle fingers like this and hold
-the ball with your thumb and little finger. It’s not easy, though. Try
-it.”
-
-Tom took the ball and strove to get a grip on it in the manner shown.
-“That’s it, isn’t it?” he asked finally. “But I’d never be able to
-pitch it that way. Why, it would just fall out! I wouldn’t have any
-control over it!”
-
-“That’s the way it seemed to me until I tried it, but I’m getting the
-hang of it. It’s a great ball when it’s done right; looks like a fast
-one and floats over as slow as an ice-wagon going up hill! When I learn
-it, I’ll show it to you, Tom. Say, I’m mighty glad you’re going to
-pitch for those fellows! Bet you anything we just mow ’em down this
-spring, Tom!”
-
-“Well, it isn’t settled yet. Mr. Wright may not agree to it.”
-
-“Pshaw! What’s the reason he won’t? You tell him if he doesn’t he’s got
-to look out for me, son! I’m liable to put a dent in him!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX
-
-WITH THE TEAM
-
-
-It wasn’t necessary, however, for the detective to put any dents in
-Mr. Wright, for the next morning Mr. Cummings informed Tom that it was
-all arranged. “It wasn’t so easy to bring him around, Tom, but he came
-after awhile. I told him, among other things, that it would be good
-business. Said we sold a lot of things to the high school boys and that
-if you played ball with them and won games for them it would make us
-more popular than ever and we’d get more trade.” Mr. Cummings paused to
-chuckle reminiscently. “I sort of think that’s what did the business,
-son. After that he listened real patiently and finally gave in. So
-you’re to have three afternoons off every week this month and two next.
-You’d better see Mr. Talbot yourself and see what days he wants you.
-I guess Monday had better be one of them, for that’s usually rather a
-dull day with us. Then Wednesday and Saturday might do for the others.”
-
-Tom thanked Mr. Cummings gratefully.
-
-“Seems to me, though, it would be fairer if you were to take something
-off my wages until the baseball season’s over,” he urged. “I--I’d feel
-better about it.”
-
-“Well, I suggested that to Horace, but he turned on me and nearly bit
-my head off. Said, so long as we didn’t have to get anyone in to take
-your place while you were out, he guessed we needn’t be so tarnation
-mean as all that! I guess we won’t quarrel about a dollar or so, Tom.
-After all, there is something in what I told Horace about getting more
-trade by letting you play with the team, and I guess we don’t stand to
-lose anything.”
-
-Mr. Talbot suggested Thursdays instead of Wednesdays as one of the
-days, since the midweek games were played on Wednesdays and he believed
-Tom could learn more on a practice afternoon. So it was finally
-arranged that Tom was to report for practice on Monday and Thursday
-afternoons and for play on Saturdays until June. After that Thursdays
-and Saturdays were to suffice. Meanwhile Mr. George had talked with the
-coach and had agreed to go out to the field twice a week, and oftener
-if he could, and take the pitchers in hand. Tom couldn’t determine
-which seemed the most pleased, Mr. Talbot or Mr. George!
-
-Tom’s first practice with the team took place the next Monday. He
-had supplied himself with a uniform and felt both proud and a trifle
-self-conscious as he walked onto the field in company with Sidney and
-Tommy Hughes. Nothing very exciting fell to his lot that day. For a
-half-hour he pitched to the batsmen in front of the net, and later sat
-on the bench and watched Pete Farrar and Toby Williams work in the box.
-Mr. Talbot instructed him to observe the fielding methods and watch
-particularly the conduct of the pitchers with men on bases. Tom soon
-saw that a pitcher had more to do than pitch. He had to handle balls in
-his own territory, cover first base on many occasions, and run up to
-the plate whenever a ball went past the catcher. He also learned things
-about holding the runners on bases, envying the dexterity with which
-Pete Farrar, who, like Tom, was a right-handed pitcher, whirled about
-to step from the box and peg the ball to first or second. Tom did not
-get into the practice game at all that afternoon, Mr. Talbot probably
-thinking that it would do him more good to look on from the bench.
-Captain Warner was friendly in a rather chilly way, but Pete Farrar
-quite evidently regarded him as an unwelcome interloper. The rest of
-the fellows, though, showed him that he was more than welcome. His
-advent had caused a sensation and practice was attended by nearly the
-entire school. Had they but known it, Cummings and Wright had already
-received a good many dollars’ worth of gratuitous advertisement!
-
-On Thursday practice was harder and more prolonged than on any day thus
-far, perhaps owing to the fact that on the preceding day the team,
-with Pete Farrar pitching four disastrous innings and Toby Williams
-finishing the game, had gone down in overwhelming defeat before a
-nine composed of high school graduates led by Walter White. There was
-nearly an hour of batting practice, a good thirty minutes of fielding
-work, with Manager Arbuckle knocking fungoes to the outfield and Coach
-Talbot hitting balls to the basemen. Tom had his first practice in
-base-running that afternoon and discovered that he had a lot to learn.
-The first time he attempted a slide he landed a yard short of second
-and was easily out. Later the two teams played four innings, and Tom
-pitched again for the scrubs. Whether his previous exertions were
-responsible for his poor showing, I can’t say. But he got a severe
-drubbing that afternoon and went home surprised and discouraged.
-
-“What could you expect?” asked Mr. George. “You were tired. Seems to me
-funny that Bat would let you pitch after having you run bases. Maybe,
-though, he meant to show you something you didn’t know, Tom.” Tom
-looked a question, and Mr. George added: “That you can’t do good work
-in the box if you’re not fresh and fit.”
-
-Mr. George himself took hold of his part of the coaching the following
-afternoon. As it was a Friday, Tom was not on hand, but Mr. George told
-him about it when they met before dinner.
-
-“A nice lot of fellows,” he said. “I had a real good time out there.
-That kid Williams is going to make a pitcher some day if he sticks at
-it. He’s a smooth little article, Tom. Of course he’s young yet, but
-he shows a lot of promise. The older fellow, Farrar, will never do
-anything. He’s got started all wrong and he won’t let anyone tell him
-anything. He hasn’t any head, either. He will be some better when I get
-through with him, I guess, but he won’t ever amount to much.”
-
-The baseball squad took to the big, quiet-mannered, good-hearted
-detective at once; Tom saw that the next day. Mr. George even
-threatened to rival Coach Talbot in the affections of the boys.
-The team journeyed to Minturn on Saturday, and Tom went along. The
-game with the Minturn team was a loosely played contest, which the
-Brown-and-Blue won by the one-sided score of 14 to 3. Tom pitched three
-innings, relieving Pete Farrar in the seventh. He wasn’t forced to
-extend himself any to dispose of the Minturn hitters that faced him. He
-struck out five, made one put-out, and assisted twice. At bat, which he
-reached but once, he managed to make a rather scratchy hit and got as
-far as second when Buster slashed a hard one down the left alley. Then
-he performed a “bone-head” play that ended his chances of scoring and
-put the side out. Bert Meyers popped a high infield fly and Tom started
-for third before the frenzied cries of the coaches could stop him. By
-the time he was racing back to his base the Minturn first baseman had
-caught the fly and pegged the ball across to shortstop and Tom made
-the third out. He felt very much ashamed of himself and rather expected
-censure from Coach Talbot. But all the latter said as Tom went over to
-the bench was, “Infield flies are bad things to run on, Pollock.”
-
-Captain Warner, however, was not so lenient, and regarded Tom with a
-scowl as he passed him on his way to second. “You want to keep your
-wits about you, Pollock,” he said severely, “when you play this game.
-Don’t you know enough to hold your base on an infield fly, when there’s
-only one out?”
-
-“I’m sorry,” he said contritely. Warner grunted.
-
-To atone for his mistake, Tom set to work and ended the contest then
-and there, disposing of the next three batsmen with exactly thirteen
-pitched balls. The victory, however, was not one to be very proud of,
-for the error column of Manager Arbuckle’s score-sheet showed seven
-little black dots.
-
-It was the Monday morning following the Minturn game that Tom stopped
-for a minute to watch the work on the new office building. The
-concrete foundation piers were in place and big steel girders were
-being lifted about by towering cranes like so many jack-straws. While
-he watched at the edge of the throng, the contractor to whom Mr.
-Cummings had sold the pump passed and chanced to catch sight of him.
-
-“Hello!” he said, turning back with a smile, “aren’t you the boy who
-told me about that pump that Cummings sold me?”
-
-“Yes, sir. Was it all right?”
-
-“Yes, it saved us a lot of money, I guess. Are you still with Cummings?”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“Ask him if he wants to buy it back, then. I’m through with it. Any
-fair offer takes it.”
-
-The contractor nodded and hurried on, and Tom took up his journey
-again. He didn’t go far, though. Presently he was back at the corner,
-where a minute’s search discovered the contractor.
-
-“Mr. Cummings will give five dollars for that pump, sir,” he announced.
-
-“Five dollars!” The contractor stared and then laughed. “Well, he
-isn’t risking his money to-day, is he? You tell Cummings----” Then he
-paused. “Will he take it away to-day at that price?”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“All right. Tell him to come and get it.”
-
-At the store Tom sought Mr. Cummings. “Will you loan me five dollars,
-please, sir, until I can get it from the bank?” he asked.
-
-“I guess we can accommodate you, Mr. Pollock,” responded the senior
-partner with a smile. “Miss Miller, give Tom five dollars and put it on
-memorandum, please. He wants to return it to-day. What are you doing,
-Tom? Buying stocks this morning?”
-
-“Pumps,” laughed Tom. “I’m going to take back that pump we sold. Could
-I store it in the cellar again?”
-
-“What! Don’t tell me that white elephant is coming back!” exclaimed Mr.
-Cummings in mock dismay.
-
-“Yes, sir, he offered to sell it and I said you’d give him five dollars
-for it and take it away to-day. Don’t you think it’s worth five
-dollars?”
-
-“Of course it is! Hang it, Tom, if you had a dozen pumps, I’ll bet
-you’d be a millionaire by the end of the year! I don’t see, though, why
-he’d want to sell it for five dollars. It would be worth that much for
-old iron.”
-
-“I guess he bought another one, sir. Anyway, he said he was through
-with it. He seemed to think five dollars wasn’t very much for it.”
-
-“I should say it wasn’t!”
-
-“But he took it,” added Tom. “So I’m going to bring it over here and
-put it in the basement again, if you don’t mind. Maybe I’ll be able to
-sell it again some day.”
-
-“Sell it again! Why, Tom, I expect you’ll get rich on that old pump!”
-
-“I’ll be about eighteen dollars behind to-night, sir.”
-
-“What? Didn’t I hand you over a sixty-dollar check only a couple of
-weeks ago?”
-
-“Yes, sir,” Tom laughed, “but you must remember that I’d already paid
-sixty dollars for it.”
-
-“That’s so,” acknowledged Mr. Cummings. “Well, send it along, Tom, and
-I’ll look after it when it comes. And I’ll see if I can’t find a buyer
-for you.”
-
-One afternoon Mr. George announced that he had conquered the science
-of pitching the “knuckle-ball” and set about teaching it to Tom. It
-wasn’t easy, for Tom’s hand was rather small and his fingers short. In
-the end, though, he learned to pitch the deceptive ball fairly well,
-although it never became a favourite offering with him. It did serve
-him well, however, on many occasions, for the “knuckle-ball,” when
-properly delivered, is particularly deceptive. Twice a week the high
-school team met an opponent and marked up a victory or defeat. The team
-was showing progress each week, but was playing erratically. Several
-times contests that should have resulted in easy wins for Amesville
-became victories for their opponents, while, to balance things up,
-more than once a game that was conceded to the enemy at the start was
-turned into a triumph for the Brown-and-Blue. Mr. George worked wonders
-with the battery candidates, for he didn’t confine himself altogether
-to the pitchers. Sam Craig learned many a trick from the new coach.
-Pete Farrar showed improvement over his early-season form, while
-Toby Williams was fast developing into a brilliant pitcher. Only his
-youthfulness kept Williams back. He hadn’t the strength to pitch nine
-hard innings and he was never allowed to attempt that feat. But as
-a relief pitcher he was a big success. The first of June Mr. George,
-unfortunately for the pitching staff, had to go away and was gone for
-nearly a fortnight. Tom missed him a good deal, for, although he went
-into the yard by himself before dinner and practised his curves and
-breaks, and quite often found someone to don the catcher’s mitt and
-stand in front of him, it was not like having the detective there to
-advise and instruct.
-
-Tom’s two afternoons of practice had greatly improved his playing.
-As a batsman he would doubtless never perform in the three-hundred
-class, but he was fully as good with the stick as two or three other
-players who had won places on the team. He soon learned how to field
-his position and became so adept at throwing to bases that runners no
-longer took daring leads when he was on the mound. He and Buster, who
-played first, got so that they worked together like machinery and many
-an unfortunate runner was caught off just when things looked their
-brightest.
-
-When June came Tom’s two afternoons of practice became one, but by that
-time one was sufficient to keep him in condition, since he always had
-a half-hour workout every day before dinner. Mr. Cummings followed the
-fortunes of the high school team, and of Tom especially, with great
-interest. Once or twice a week, usually when there was a game to be
-played, he would go out to the field and take his place on the players’
-bench, evidently under the impression that Mr. Talbot’s original
-invitation held good for the season. No one, however, ever disputed his
-right to the privilege and the players seemed to like to have him there.
-
-Sometimes in the evenings Sidney and Tom and one or two of the
-neighbourhood youths would appear in the vacant lot near Sidney’s home
-and play ball, but as a general thing Tom and Sidney had had about
-enough of baseball by dinner time and their evenings were more likely
-to be spent in less strenuous ways. The Saturday games didn’t interfere
-with Tom’s trips to Derry and he always spent Sundays at the farm. He
-had told Uncle Israel about disposing of the pump, and Uncle Israel had
-merely commented to the effect that all the fools weren’t dead yet! But
-he had, Tom thought, seemed a bit pleased, nevertheless. When, later,
-Tom informed him smilingly that he had bought the pump back again,
-Uncle Israel stared and grunted.
-
-“Seems like you were well enough rid of it before,” he said dryly. “I
-suppose you expect to find another idiot, eh?”
-
-“Well, I hope to find someone who wants a good pump and is willing to
-pay half of what it’s worth. Besides, if I can’t sell it, I guess it
-will always be worth five or six dollars as junk.”
-
-“Maybe, maybe,” replied Uncle Israel with a wave of his big hand.
-“Anyway, it’s your affair.”
-
-On the first Saturday in June, Amesville was to play its first of three
-contests with Petersburg High School. Petersburg High was Amesville’s
-principal rival in all sports and the success of the baseball season
-was judged by the outcome of the Petersburg series. Naturally Tom
-expected to go into the box for the high school that afternoon and was
-much surprised when, after he and Pete Farrar and Toby Williams had
-warmed up, Coach Talbot announced that Farrar was to begin the game.
-Sidney, who was seated beside Tom on the bench, grumbled.
-
-“That’s a silly way to do,” he said. “Pete’ll put us in a hole and
-then you’ll have to go and pull the game out of the fire. I don’t see
-why he doesn’t let you start it.”
-
-“He wanted to,” said Tommy Hughes, at Sidney’s elbow, speaking in low
-tones, “but Frank threw a fit about it. Bat knuckled right under to
-him. I thought he had more backbone.”
-
-To tell the truth, Tommy had looked for a quarrel between coach and
-captain and was not a little disappointed! Sidney took up the cudgels
-for Mr. Talbot.
-
-“Bat knows what he’s doing,” he said stoutly. “Don’t you worry, Tommy.
-I dare say he just wants to show Frank that Pete isn’t any good against
-a hard-hitting bunch like Petersburg.”
-
-“I like that!” exclaimed Tommy aggrievedly. “Why, you were just
-criticising Bat yourself!”
-
-“Not at all,” returned Sidney loftily. “I only said----”
-
-But what he said didn’t appear, for just then the home team was called
-on to take the field.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XX
-
-AMESVILLE LOSES THE GAME
-
-
-Pete Farrar had his troubles from the very first instant. After getting
-a strike on the batsman, he offered one in the groove and the head of
-the Petersburg batting-list cracked it out for two bases. That seemed
-to disconcert Pete a good deal. He passed the next man up, tried
-unavailingly to catch the first runner off second, and finally allowed
-the third man to send up a long sacrifice fly to the outfield, which
-scored one run and left a man on third. Good fielding disposed of the
-next two batters, and Amesville crawled out of a bad situation.
-
-It was not until the third inning that the local team got her first man
-over the plate. Then a hit by Bert Meyers, a sacrifice by Frank Warner,
-and an error by third baseman allowed Bert to score. At one to one the
-game went into the fifth. Then, with the opposing pitcher at bat, Pete
-Farrar got careless. During four innings he had saved himself time and
-again “by the skin of his teeth,” to use a handy expression, or had
-been saved by the players behind him. Now, though, he went all bad.
-The Petersburg pitcher was handed his base on balls and promptly and
-unexpectedly stole second. The next man landed on Pete’s first offering
-and sent it down the right alley, scoring the pitcher. A two-bagger
-by the opponent’s third baseman put men on third and second and both
-players scored a minute later when Captain Warner pegged the ball four
-feet over Buster’s head. Then Pete struck a batsman on the shoulder
-with a wild ball and there were runners on first and second and still
-no one out. Pete made an effort to settle down then, after Frank Warner
-and Sam Craig had both talked with him, and succeeded in striking
-out the next batsman and causing the following one to pop a fly into
-shortstop’s hands. But with two out there was still trouble in store
-for Pete. He seemed quite unable to locate the plate and another man
-walked and the bases were filled.
-
-It was then that Coach Talbot signalled to Captain Warner, and Warner
-called for time. Tom and Toby Williams had each been warming up, and
-now Mr. Talbot told Tom to go in. But when he reached the box where
-Captain Warner and Pete Farrar were talking together, the former turned
-to him with a scowl.
-
-“What do you want?” he demanded.
-
-“Mr. Talbot sent me in to pitch,” responded Tom mildly.
-
-“Well, you can walk right back,” said Pete. “I’m on this job.”
-
-Tom looked inquiringly at Frank Warner. The latter frowned and nodded.
-
-“That’s right, Pollock. Run along. I’m running this team and not Bat
-Talbot.”
-
-Tom retraced his steps to the bench, meeting the surprised and curious
-looks of his team-mates. Mr. Talbot said nothing, merely nodded
-understandingly.
-
-Pete faced the next batsman and the infielders moved in toward the
-plate. It was a crucial moment and the stand, which had been pretty
-noisy most of the game, settled into silence. One ball went wide and
-a few jeers greeted Pete. The next, however, was a strike and a burst
-of applause followed. Then came another ball. On the bases the runners
-were ready to streak along the path at the smallest opportunity.
-Another strike--a low ball that just cut the outer edge of the
-plate--brought sighs of relief to the Amesville supporters. Then a
-foul went back of first and another glanced off the bat and was almost
-captured by Sam Craig. A wide one which the batsman refused brought the
-score two and three and Pete had put himself in a hole. Another foul
-past first spoiled one offering and then Pete put a fast one straight
-across and the batsman landed on it hard. In raced the men on bases
-and far out into the field sped the ball. But Sidney proved the hero
-of that occasion, for, running like a streak to his left, he made the
-catch at full speed, rolling over a few times on the grass as an added
-divertisement!
-
-In the last of the sixth Amesville managed to almost close up her
-distance, scoring two runs on two hits and an error by centre fielder.
-The score was now four to three and everyone looked to see either Tom
-or Toby Williams walk to the box when the last half of the inning
-began. But Captain Warner, offended by what he termed Mr. Talbot’s
-interference, was stubborn. “Pete’s all right,” he declared to the
-coach. “He had a bad inning; they all do; but that’s over with. He can
-hold them all right. You’ll see.”
-
-Mr. Talbot doubted it, but said nothing more and Pete went back again.
-He got through the seventh inning in very good shape, striking out
-two of the men who faced him. A runner reached second on a hit past
-shortstop, but the fourth batsman slammed a liner into third baseman’s
-glove.
-
-Try as she might, however, Amesville was unable to add to her score
-in the seventh or eighth, while Petersburg got two on in the ninth,
-but failed to tally. In the last of the inning Smithie, first at bat,
-caught one where he liked it and slammed it into short centre for
-a base. Joe Kenny walked and Sam Craig advanced the runners with a
-sacrifice. Pete Farrar went out, third to first, and Buster managed to
-bring in the tying run with a slashing hit to second baseman too hot
-for that youth to handle. Then Bert Meyers hit into a double and the
-side was out. But the score was now four to four and Amesville in the
-stand shouted excitedly and demanded a new pitcher.
-
-“Put in Pollock!” was the cry. “We want this game!”
-
-But Frank Warner was obdurate, and Coach Talbot let him have his way.
-Pete Farrar went back to the box and the audience, after a moment of
-amazed surprise, gave voice to disapprobation.
-
-“Take him out!” “Give us a pitcher!” “Say, Bat, use your bean!” “Put in
-Tom Pollock!” “Take him out!”
-
-Mr. Talbot, on the bench, showed neither by word nor sign that he
-heard. Perhaps Captain Warner really believed Pete capable of holding
-the visitors for another inning. If he did, events proved him greatly
-mistaken, for that first half of the ninth was a veritable Waterloo for
-Pete. The Petersburg players landed on his slants and smashed them into
-all parts of the field. Not a man came to bat who didn’t connect safely
-with one of Pete’s offerings, and seven men faced him before that
-devastating inning was over. The stand howled protest and derision,
-and once Sam Craig, who had striven heroically all through the game to
-stave off defeat, literally threw up his hands. This was when Pete, in
-a rage at the storm of ridicule from the spectators, pitched a ball
-that went fully four feet wide of the plate. Sam spread his arms wide
-and made no effort to get the ball until it had struck the dirt and
-bounded from the back-stop, by which time Petersburg had scored her
-fourth run of the inning. I think Pete might have kept on pitching
-until darkness put a stop to the massacre had not the infield taken
-matters into their own hands and, assisted by the Petersburg runners,
-who, with the score eight to four, seemed assured of the victory,
-finally ended the inning. Sam Craig heaved the ball to Smithie and the
-shortstop, jumping across the second bag, sped it on to Bert Meyers at
-third. The runners at each station were caught napping and were called
-out, and when, a minute later, Sam again threw to second and cut off a
-steal, the worst was over.
-
-That last half of the tenth was a forlorn hope for the home team. Frank
-Warner, smarting under the unuttered criticism of his team-mates, went
-very determinedly to bat and hit safely past second baseman. But,
-although Tommy Hughes laid down a sacrifice bunt and put the runner on
-second, he got no farther. Sidney was an easy out, third to first, and
-Smithie popped a foul into the catcher’s hands.
-
-On the way back to town Mr. Cummings squeezed himself into the seat
-between Tom and Sidney. Mr. Cummings was wildly indignant. He told them
-just how the game should have been played and made disparaging remarks
-about Pete Farrar in such a loud voice that Tom was on tenterhooks lest
-Pete, who was only two seats ahead, should hear.
-
-That first game of the Petersburg series caused all sorts of commotion
-in school. Those who did not know the true inwardness of the matter
-blamed Coach Talbot for the loss of the contest, while of those who
-did know many still blamed him for not using his authority and taking
-Pete out of the box in the fifth inning in spite of Captain Warner.
-Indignation meetings were numerous on the following Monday and there
-was talk of a petition requesting Frank Warner’s resignation and many
-demands for a new coach. But by the middle of the week the fellows
-calmed down and decided to await the outcome of the next game before
-taking steps. The next meeting between the rivals was to take place
-two weeks from the first contest and was to be held at Petersburg,
-while the deciding game, if necessary, was to be played a week later at
-Amesville.
-
-In the meanwhile Pete Farrar was far from popular, although he
-blustered around much as usual and had plenty of explanations to offer
-all who would listen to them. Nor was Frank Warner much more in favour.
-Amesville took the Petersburg games pretty seriously and even the final
-examinations, which were now causing trouble for many of the pupils,
-failed to take the fellows’ minds away from baseball.
-
-Tom got through his examinations very well, if not exactly with flying
-colours. It was hard to serve two masters just then and I fancy Tom
-would have got higher marks in an examination on baseball than he did
-on his school courses. But he got by fairly creditably, for all of
-that. Sidney, who was always a brilliant student, did so well, though,
-that Tom felt rather humiliated. Sidney was now very full of plans and
-details for the graduation party, for he had been elected a member of
-the committee having that important function in charge, and Tom saw
-less of him than usual. At the store the early spring business had
-quieted down. June, for some reason, was generally a dull month. The
-sporting goods department had done a wonderful business that year, and
-even Mr. Wright took occasion to compliment Tom on the fact.
-
-“Very satisfactory, Tom, very satisfactory,” he declared, drumming
-nervously on the top of the showcase. “We--ah--we think you deserve
-much credit. And we’ve decided that--er--well, Mr. Cummings will tell
-you about that.”
-
-Mr. Cummings, however, had already told him. Tom was to have an
-increase in wages in September, on the completion of his second year in
-the store. His salary was to be eight dollars a week instead of five.
-Moreover, when Tom was through school and could give his entire time to
-the business, he was to be paid twelve dollars; and Mr. Cummings hoped,
-he said, that Tom would decide to stay with them. Tom replied that he
-had no desire to leave.
-
-“Well, we don’t want you to, Tom. You’ve made a paying thing of that
-department of yours and I don’t see why it shouldn’t be developed even
-more, nor why, when you have more time to give to it, it shouldn’t
-make more money for us than it’s doing now. And you mustn’t think that
-twelve dollars is as far as you can go with us, either. We’re willing
-to pay for what we get, Tom, and just as soon as you can show us
-you’re worth fifteen or twenty or even thirty, son, you’ll get it.”
-
-Life looked very bright to Tom just then, and when, on the next
-Saturday afternoon, he pitched Amesville High to a hard-won victory
-over Lynton, going the whole nine innings without a falter and
-receiving the best of support from his team-mates, his cup of happiness
-seemed filled to overflowing. Mr. George returned on the morning of
-that day, watched his protégé perform, and had all sorts of nice things
-to say to him afterward. To be sure, there was criticism interspersed
-with the praise, for naturally enough Tom still showed inexperience,
-but Tom was quite as grateful for the criticism as for the praise.
-Mr. Cummings rubbed his hands all the way back--he seldom missed a
-game now--and beamed proudly upon Tom. One would have thought from
-the senior partner’s attitude toward the boy that he was directly
-responsible for the latter’s baseball prowess! The school viewed Tom as
-a hero and impatiently reiterated its former conundrum, Why had not Tom
-been allowed to pitch against Petersburg?
-
-“Just wait until next Saturday, though,” it said confidently. “We won’t
-do a thing to those dubs, with Pollock in the box! Just watch us!”
-
-There was no Wednesday game that week, as it happened, since Turner’s
-Falls cancelled her date because of the illness of two of her best
-players. But there were four days of the hardest sort of practice.
-And the fellows stood in need of it, since examinations had seriously
-interfered with the attendance of late. Tom spent Wednesday afternoon
-with the team and worked hard, so hard that Mr. George forbade practice
-in the side-yard when they returned home.
-
-“It won’t do to run any risks with your arm, Tom,” he said. “I suppose
-they’ll pitch you Saturday. Can’t see what else they can do. So you
-want to take things easy, son.”
-
-The next afternoon--examinations were about over and Tom had returned
-to the store directly after lunch--he was called to the telephone. It
-was a neighbour of Uncle Israel’s speaking. Aunt Patty had asked her
-to tell Tom that his uncle was very ill and to say that he had better
-come home. Tom caught a train at a few minutes past four and went out
-to Derry. Uncle Israel had caught cold a day or two before and was
-pretty sick, Aunt Patty explained anxiously. The doctor came soon after
-Tom arrived and was not very encouraging. It was lung congestion, he
-said, and Mr. Bowles was a very ill man. Whether pneumonia would result
-he wouldn’t predict. Aunt Patty took full command of the situation, a
-neighbour came in to cook, and Tom and John Green sat down to a very
-cheerless supper. Friday morning Uncle Israel was rather worse than
-better, and Tom, remembering that he was to accompany the baseball team
-to Petersburg the next day, considered calling up Mr. Talbot on the
-telephone and reporting the situation. But the nearest telephone was at
-a neighbour’s house, a full half-mile distant--Uncle Israel had always
-refused to have anything to do with such a silly contraption--and Tom
-decided to wait until morning. He had already informed Mr. Cummings
-that he would not be back for a day or two. Saturday morning, after an
-anxious night of it, Uncle Israel’s condition was improved and when, at
-about eleven o’clock, the doctor arrived he declared that all danger
-was passed and that careful nursing and proper diet would bring the
-patient around as well as ever. Tom talked it over with Aunt Patty,
-and Aunt Patty said he had better go back.
-
-“Sakes alive,” she said, “there ain’t anything you can do here, Tom.
-If a man’s needed, why, there’s John; not that I’m pretending he’s
-much use, though!” (This for the benefit of the hired man who had just
-stamped in with fire-wood and who only grinned and winked at Tom.)
-“Just you run along and play your games, Tom. You’ll come back again
-to-night, anyway, I s’pose?”
-
-Tom hurriedly answered that he would, and sprinted for the station,
-just managing to catch the last train that might get him to Amesville
-in time to join the team on its trip to Petersburg. But the train, a
-slow one at best, took longer than usual to dawdle into Amesville, and
-when Tom, after stopping at Mrs. Tully’s to change into his uniform,
-reached the place from which the special car was to leave, there was
-no car in sight and inquiry elicited the fact that it had been gone
-a full ten minutes. The next regular trolley car for Petersburg was
-not due to leave until a quarter-past one. There was nothing for it
-but to make the best of a bad situation. Tom ate a hurried lunch at
-a small restaurant nearby, all the while keeping a close watch on the
-clock. When, finally, he dashed back to the trolley station he felt
-very uncomfortable inside. The car swung up and Tom climbed aboard.
-He was not fortunate enough to get a seat and so stood on the rear
-platform. The conductor, in reply to Tom’s inquiry, told him that the
-car would reach Petersburg at ten minutes past two, if it was on time.
-Tom silently hoped that it would be, because the game was to begin at
-two-thirty.
-
-But that car seemed possessed of a spirit of procrastination and delay.
-At every siding, after it had passed into the country, it stood and
-waited interminable hours, as it seemed to Tom, while some car bound in
-the opposite direction appeared leisurely in the distance, bore down
-upon them and, finally, sidled past. A mile outside of Petersburg it
-seemed determined to take root. Tom asked what the trouble was--he had
-secured a seat by this time--and the conductor paused long enough to
-inform him that the south-bound car was twelve minutes late. It was
-already five minutes past two and Petersburg was a mile away. And,
-besides that, Tom hadn’t the least idea where the ball ground was.
-Another five minutes passed and still no car appeared. Tom’s nerves
-were getting panicky. The twelve minutes were already gone. He had only
-twenty minutes left before the game. He dropped off the car and started
-up the track.
-
-Five minutes later a road appeared and he climbed a fence and reached
-it, hoping that a vehicle would come along and give him a lift. But no
-vehicle appeared and it was almost half-past when, much out of breath
-and very hot, he walked into the town. Luckily the ball ground was
-only a block or two away from where he made an inquiry and he actually
-reached the gate on the instant of half-past two. He had difficulty
-convincing the youth who presided at the entrance that he was a member
-of the visiting team, but finally succeeded and hurried in. The teams
-were still warming up as Tom appeared. Mr. Talbot caught sight of him
-and greeted him with a frown.
-
-“Well, we thought you weren’t coming, Pollock,” he said. “What was the
-trouble?”
-
-“I couldn’t leave home until late, sir, and when I got uptown the car
-had gone. I came along on the next one. I’m sorry, sir.”
-
-He didn’t explain that he had walked a mile or more or that he felt
-about as little like pitching baseball as anyone could! Mr. Talbot
-viewed him doubtfully.
-
-“Well, you’d better sit down and get cooled off. How’s your arm?”
-
-“All right, sir.”
-
-“Hm! We’d just decided to let Williams start. Perhaps he had better,
-anyway. Captain Warner!”
-
-In response to the hail Frank Warner joined them by the bench. “Here’s
-Pollock,” said the coach. “He missed a train or something. What do you
-think about him? Shall we start him or let Williams go in?”
-
-Frank nodded to Tom. “Why, Pollock’s here, Mr. Talbot, and he might as
-well pitch,” he answered. “He’s all right, isn’t he?”
-
-“I guess so. I only wondered whether to save him for a few innings.”
-
-“I don’t think it’s wise to take any chances,” replied Frank. “We need
-this game, you know, sir.”
-
-Mr. Talbot nodded assent, glanced at his watch, and turned again
-to Tom. “If you’re to start this,” he said, “you’d better warm up.
-Johnson, come over here and catch Pollock, will you?”
-
-Johnson, who played first base on the scrubs and had accompanied the
-team as a substitute infielder, backed against the netting and Tom
-unlimbered. It was nearly twenty minutes to three now and Petersburg
-was clamouring for the start. Mr. Talbot was talking to the umpire, a
-small ferret-eyed man in a dingy blue baseball jacket, and Tom fancied
-that he was merely trying to delay the game long enough to allow him to
-warm up. Pete Farrar and Toby Williams had finished their preliminary
-exercise and gone back to the visitors’ bench. Pete had frowned upon
-Tom’s belated arrival, but Toby, who had more to lose to-day by Tom’s
-advent, waved cheerfully to him.
-
-It took only three or four passes of the ball to inform Tom that the
-morning’s exertion and nervous anxiety had left him in poor shape to
-pitch his best game, but as he went on his arm and wrist regained
-something of their skill. He wished that Mr. George was there. He’d
-have felt more confident. But the detective had not accompanied the
-team to-day.
-
-“All right, fellows,” announced Captain Warner. “High School at the
-bat. You’re up, Buster.”
-
-And Tom, rolling the ball toward the bench, followed it and took his
-place, regretful that he had not had another ten minutes of work.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXI
-
-KNOCKED OUT OF THE BOX
-
-
-Amesville had her batting eye with her to-day and Buster started things
-moving at once. By the time Tommy Hughes was thrown out at second on an
-attempted steal one run had crossed the plate and the fifty or sixty
-youths who had followed the Amesville team to the enemy’s lair were
-cheering hilariously. And when Tom stepped into the pitcher’s box they
-cheered again.
-
-From the first it was evident that Tom’s offerings were not breaking
-right. Clever fielding held Petersburg away from the platter, but two
-hits were made off Tom in that initial inning and one man got as far as
-third.
-
-In the second neither side scored. Calvert, the Petersburg pitcher,
-settled down and quickly disposed of the next three batters on the
-Amesville list, and Tom managed to strike out the opposing catcher and
-pitcher, no great feat, and then gave a base on balls to the head of
-the Petersburg list. But a long fly was pulled down by Tommy Hughes,
-out in centre, and the trouble was over.
-
-Things went along uneventfully until the fourth, Tom now and then
-showing a flash of real form and receiving eager applause from his
-school-mates on such occasions. But it was sharp infield work that
-held the enemy at bay through those first four innings, for Tom’s
-slants were not difficult to reach to-day and more than once the
-smallest ounce of luck would have slid a Petersburg runner across the
-plate. In the first of the fourth Amesville filled the bases by some
-slashing stick-work on the part of Meyers, Warner, and Morris, Sidney
-contributing a pretty bunt that rolled along first-base-line so slowly
-that neither pitcher nor first baseman could reach it before Sidney
-had crossed the bag. Then Smithie brought groans of disappointment by
-fanning. With two gone, it was up to Joe Kenny, and Joe was not much
-of a hitter. But by looking and acting anxious to hit, Joe caused the
-Petersburg pitcher to waste two balls. Then a strike went over and then
-a third ball was called. After that Joe had only to wait. A second
-strike followed, but what should have been a third went a little wide
-of base and Joe walked, pushing in a run. The Petersburg pitcher had a
-touch of nerves then and Sam Craig slammed safely for a base, scoring
-two more and going to second on the throw to the plate. Amesville
-was howling joyfully now, and Petersburg was anxious. There was a
-conference in the box between the Petersburg pitcher and captain, while
-Tom took his position at the plate. Joe Kenny was on third and Sam
-Craig on second, and there were two out. The Amesville rooters begged
-loudly for a hit.
-
-“Just touch it, Tom, just touch it!” shouted Tommy from back of first.
-“He’s easy, old man!”
-
-Being a pitcher and, to the Petersburg battery, an unknown quantity as
-yet--he had been easily struck out on his previous appearance at the
-plate--Tom was not viewed seriously by the enemy. A wide one went as a
-ball without an offer from Tom. Then what was meant to be an out-drop
-went wrong and the pitcher paused to pull himself together. A good one,
-straight over the plate, was missed by the swinging bat. Then, with a
-change of pace, Petersburg’s slab artist offered a slow ball. But he
-didn’t fool Tom with it. Tom hit at it a trifle too soon, but he got
-it, and the ball flew straight and hard down the first-base-line, over
-the baseman’s head, and into right field. It was a clean one-bagger and
-it scored Kenny and Craig and left Tom on first.
-
-Buster went to bat, and Tom got the signal to steal on the third pitch.
-He made it by a clever slide. Buster was two strikes to the bad now.
-The pitcher made it two and two and then curved a slow ball inside. But
-Buster connected with it and the sphere flew across the diamond. Tom
-lighted out for third at the crack of the bat and ran his hardest, but
-Buster was easily out at first and the inning was over.
-
-Now base-running to a pitcher already tired is no great aid and Tom
-went into the box a minute later feeling rather the worse for wear.
-The first batsman obligingly sent up a short fly which Captain Warner
-got by a run back into the outfield, but the next man was a canny
-batsman and before Tom knew it the score was two balls and no strikes.
-An out-shoot, Tom’s best ball, barely cut the corner for a strike. Sam
-Craig signalled for a low one and a third ball resulted. There was
-nothing to do then but try the groove, and this Tom did. But there was
-little speed in what was meant for a fast ball and the batsman cracked
-out a long two-bagger into left field. Then Tom’s troubles began in
-earnest.
-
-His curves refused to break for him where they should, his drop bit
-the plate, and his fast ball no longer had any “ginger.” And he was
-conscious that his arm was hot and tired and that his head was aching.
-With two strikes on the next batsman, a straight ball was offered and
-was slammed into right field for a base, bringing in Petersburg’s first
-tally. Having tasted blood, the enemy became unmanageable. Before he
-knew it, almost, the bases were filled and there was but one out! Then,
-Sam Craig doing his best to settle him down, Tom finally struck out
-the Petersburg catcher. Hearty cheers rewarded this performance and it
-seemed that Tom had found himself again. But four balls was the best he
-could do against the opposing pitcher and another run was forced across.
-
-Tom was doing his best to follow Sam’s signals, but his command over
-the ball was weak. Once he tried a “knuckle-ball,” in the hope of
-disposing of a batsman who had two strikes and three balls on him.
-But the “knuckle” started all wrong and swooped down before it crossed
-the plate, and Tom had given another pass and forced over the third
-run. By this time Coach Talbot was watching anxiously and Toby Williams
-was warming up. Captain Warner strode in from his position at second,
-scolding angrily.
-
-“For the love of Mike, Pollock, let ’em hit it if you have to, but
-don’t pass ’em! What’s the matter with you, anyway? I thought you could
-pitch! Gee, you’re a lemon and no mistake! Now settle down and do
-something. Get us out of this.”
-
-Tom wanted very much to reply, “Get me out of this!” but he didn’t.
-He still hoped that he could pull himself together again. If he could
-get through this inning with no further damage, he told himself, he
-could rest awhile and come back feeling better. But he was doomed to
-disappointment. The succeeding hitter settled Tom’s hopes then and
-there. Leaning against the first ball pitched, he cracked it far out
-into left field, cleared the bases, and put himself on third!
-
-Petersburg went delirious. Tom, dazed, watched Sam Craig, ball in
-hand, hurry toward him and heard Frank Warner’s shrill and angry
-voice behind him. What Sam said he didn’t know. Warner was facing him
-scowlingly.
-
-“That’ll do for you, Pollock,” he said disgustedly. “You to the bench.”
-
-Tom turned with hanging head and walked across the diamond. It seemed
-a long way to where the three or four substitutes were sitting and
-he was horribly conscious of the gaze of hundreds of eyes. When Toby
-Williams, hurrying by him, said, “Hard luck, Tom!” he made no answer. A
-half-hearted ripple of applause was given him as he went off, a ripple
-which quickly broadened to a wave as Toby Williams took the ball from
-Sam Craig. Coach Talbot held out Tom’s coat to him.
-
-“Not your day, Pollock,” he said kindly. “Too bad.”
-
-Tom smiled with an effort as he sank into his seat. Johnson offered him
-a dipperful of water, and Tom accepted it and pretended to drink. But,
-although his mouth was parched, he was not thirsty. At the end of the
-bench Pete Farrar observed him with ill-concealed satisfaction. Steve
-Arbuckle, the manager, brought his score-book from farther along the
-bench and seated himself beside Tom.
-
-“That was a tough inning, Tom,” he said cheerfully. “Don’t you mind,
-though. We’ll get them yet, old man. You don’t look very fit to-day.
-Heat troubling you?”
-
-“No, I don’t think so,” murmured Tom. “I don’t know what. I--I feel
-sort of done up. What’s the score, Steve?”
-
-“Seven to six,” was the answer. But it was no sooner made than Steve
-was forced to change it. An infield hit had been fielded to the plate
-by Frank Warner to head off the man on third and the ball had rolled
-out of Sam Craig’s hands. The tying run was in and the runner was safe
-on first. It was what Steve growlingly called a “bone-head play,” for
-had Frank thrown to first he could easily have caught the batsman. That
-miscue worried Toby so that he passed the next man and allowed a hit to
-the succeeding one and the bases were filled once more. But a foul to
-Buster ended the inning a minute or two later with the score 7 to 7.
-
-And so the game went for two more innings, Toby Williams pitching very
-good ball, all things considered, and holding the enemy scoreless.
-On the other hand, the Petersburg pitcher was steady as a rock and
-Amesville failed to get a runner past second. In the eighth inning,
-however, Toby had a bad ten minutes and Petersburg drew ahead by one
-tally, a lead that was soon cut down in the first of the ninth when Sam
-Craig started things going with a safe bunt that put him on first, from
-which station he was advanced by Toby Williams’s sacrifice. Then Buster
-singled, Meyers drew a pass, and, with bases full, Captain Warner lined
-out a two-bagger into right and scored two runs. Before the inning was
-over two more had been added and Amesville breathed easier.
-
-Tom watched from the bench, listening to Steve Arbuckle’s muttered
-comments as he worked a busy pencil over the score-sheet, and hoping
-devoutly that Amesville would win. If she didn’t, the fellows would,
-he knew, blame the defeat on him. And they would be right in doing
-so. With a three-run lead when she took the field for the final
-half-inning, Amesville seemed sure of the victory. But a bad ten
-minutes followed. Petersburg sprang to the assault viciously and
-hammered Toby Williams until, when there was a runner on third and
-one on first and only one out to the visitors’ credit, Pete Farrar was
-hustled to the rescue.
-
-Pete met scarcely a better fate than Toby. Petersburg scored a run
-and filled the bases. Then a clout to Sidney in right field, which he
-caught after a desperate chase half-way to the infield, scored another
-runner and made the second out. There were still men on third and
-second and Petersburg’s captain was up. But Fate was kind to Amesville
-and a liner into Smithie’s glove ended the combat. Amesville had won,
-10 to 9, and the series stood one game each. All depended on the third
-contest, a week away.
-
-Tom, glad of the outcome but discouraged and disheartened, rode tiredly
-back to Amesville with an aching arm and a splitting head. He had, he
-told himself bitterly, pitched his last game of baseball!
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXII
-
-UNCLE ISRAEL SITS UP
-
-
-It was nearly six o’clock when the team and its still enthusiastic
-supporters reached Amesville, and Tom, declining Sidney’s invitation
-to dinner, went on downtown and alighted at a corner near the hardware
-store. His train to Derry would not leave until a few minutes before
-eight and he had two hours to get rid of. He might have returned to the
-boarding-house, but he was in no mood to meet the tableful of people
-and have to recite the fortunes of the day. He would, he decided,
-go into a lunch room later and get a bite to eat. He wasn’t hungry,
-anyway. His head still felt heavy, although the splitting ache had
-gone. As he passed the store he glanced in. It was Saturday and so it
-would not close until nine o’clock. The front of the store was empty,
-but Joe Gillig was busy with a customer farther on. Tom turned back and
-went in. As well stay there as anywhere for an hour or so. He hoped,
-though, that Mr. Cummings had left.
-
-Joe nodded to him as he entered, and Tom passed around to the back of
-his counter amongst the sporting goods department were handed over his
-attention, for all letters or orders concerning the sporting-goods
-department were handed over to Tom, who, with the occasional assistance
-of Miss Miller’s typewriter, managed replies to such as required them.
-To-night the mail contained several orders, one from a small baseball
-club which wanted nine uniforms, three bats and a catcher’s mask,
-and several circulars and catalogues. Tom pinned together the letter
-from the baseball club and the accompanying measurements and laid it
-aside for attention on Monday. Then he glanced idly through a summer
-catalogue of a dealer in athletic goods and, while he was still turning
-its pages, the lone customer went out and Joe Gillig sauntered down
-the aisle. Joe had grown considerably older since the day when he had
-shown Tom around the store, less because of the lapse of time than of
-a sense of responsibility, for Joe was engaged to be married and the
-happy event was due to take place in the autumn. Joe’s red moustache
-was now wonderfully luxuriant, and Tom, who liked to twit Joe about
-it, pretended to believe that the latter touched it up with the red ink
-every day.
-
-“How did the game come out, Tom?” asked Joe, seating himself on the
-edge of the counter.
-
-“We won, ten to nine.”
-
-“Fine! Anyone would think to look at you, though, that you’d been
-whipped to a froth. What’s the matter?”
-
-“Nothing. I’m tired. I missed the special car and the next one was late
-and I had to walk about a mile. And then----”
-
-“Joe, did I leave my umbrella in the office? Just have a look, will
-you?” And Mr. Cummings who had hurried in, glanced suspiciously at the
-clouds piling up behind the steeple of the church farther down the
-street. Then his eyes fell on Tom, and, “Hello!” he said. “I didn’t
-know you were here, Tom. I just heard about the game.” Mr. Cummings
-paused and eyed Tom doubtfully. “Glad we won,” he added.
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“Must have been a fine game. Wish I might have seen it. Hm!”
-
-Joe came back with the umbrella, and Mr. Cummings walked to the window
-and looked out.
-
-“Guess we’ll have some rain,” he said. “Must have been pretty hot over
-at Petersburg.”
-
-“Yes, sir, it was hot, real hot.”
-
-Mr. Cummings walked to the door, paused irresolutely, and turned back
-again. “I dare say you’ve had your supper, Tom,” he observed.
-
-“No, sir, not yet. I’m not very hungry.”
-
-“Oh, well, you have to eat, you know. I’m eating downtown to-night;
-wife’s away. Better come along with me and we’ll have something
-together.”
-
-“Thanks, but I ain’t--I’m not hungry, sir, and----”
-
-“Well, come and watch me then,” replied the other gaily. “Besides, I
-want to hear about the game. I’ll be back about seven-thirty, Joe. Did
-Mr. Wright say whether he was coming back to-night?”
-
-“No, sir, he didn’t say. He left his light coat in the office, though.”
-
-“That doesn’t mean anything,” Mr. Cummings laughed. “He probably
-doesn’t know where it is and is looking all over town for it! Come on,
-Tom.”
-
-So Tom, wanting to refuse but not liking to, put his cap on and joined
-the senior partner. “I’m in baseball togs, sir,” he said. “I guess
-it’ll look sort of funny, won’t it?”
-
-“What of it? You ought to be proud to be seen in that uniform, Tom.
-Mustn’t forget you’re a hero, you know.”
-
-Tom smiled crookedly. “I guess you haven’t heard much about the game,
-Mr. Cummings.”
-
-“Oh, yes, I have; a little, anyway. I ran across Mr. Talbot at the
-barber’s.”
-
-“Then you know I’m not much of a hero, sir.”
-
-“Eh?” asked Mr. Cummings with elaborate carelessness. “Oh, you mean
-because you had an off-day in the box? Pshaw! that happens to all of
-them, Tom. The best pitchers in the Big Leagues get theirs just about
-so often.” They turned into a restaurant and found seats at a small
-table. It was a much more fashionable place than Tom was accustomed
-to and he felt rather ill at ease until he had seated himself and so
-hidden most of his attire behind the tablecloth. “Yes,” continued his
-companion, taking up a menu, “I’ve seen more than one top-notcher get
-slammed around the lot for keeps, Tom. What do you say to a chop and
-some shoe-string potatoes and a salad? Sort of hot to eat much, isn’t
-it?”
-
-Tom murmuringly assented, and Mr. Cummings gave the order.
-
-“You had an off-day, Tom, that’s all. Next time you’ll go in and hold
-’em tight. You see if I’m not right.”
-
-“There won’t be any next time, Mr. Cummings. I’ve quit.”
-
-“Quit!”
-
-“Yes, sir. I almost lost that game to-day for them, sir. I guess I
-ain’t cut out for a pitcher, after all.”
-
-“Pshaw! That’s foolishness! You can’t expect to be in top form every
-day, son! No one can! Don’t let me hear any more talk from you about
-quitting!” And Mr. Cummings, tossing aside the menu, looked quite
-fierce. Tom smiled feebly.
-
-“I guess they won’t want me, anyway,” he muttered. “I--I was perfectly
-punk!”
-
-“What of it? There’s another game coming, isn’t there? What was the
-trouble to-day, Tom?”
-
-Then Tom told about Uncle Israel’s illness and how anxious they had
-all been; how he had decided to accompany the team at almost the last
-minute and had rushed to the train and, finally, had had to foot it for
-a mile when he got to Petersburg.
-
-“Well, Great Scott!” exclaimed Mr. Cummings. “I should think you might
-have an off-day after that! Why, walking a mile in the hot sun is
-enough to put any pitcher off his game! What the dickens did you do it
-for?”
-
-“There wasn’t any other way to get there.”
-
-“Then you should have told Mr. Talbot about it and he would have let
-you off or had you rest up for three or four innings, anyway. It was a
-piece of foolishness, Tom, and you deserved to get knocked out of the
-box.”
-
-“Yes, sir. And I was.”
-
-The supper arrived then and for a moment or two Mr. Cummings was too
-busy to continue his remarks. Tom, to his surprise, found himself in
-possession of a very healthy appetite and fell to with vigour. Mr.
-Cummings added two glasses of iced coffee to his order and when he had
-sampled one of them he sighed contentedly and looked across the table
-again.
-
-“After you get that chop out of the way, Tom, you’ll feel better, I
-guess. What did you have to eat at noon?”
-
-“A couple of sandwiches and a piece of pie, sir.”
-
-“Sandwiches and pie! What do you know about that!” Mr. Cummings raised
-a horrified gaze to the ceiling. “What kind of fodder is that, Tom, to
-go to work on? What you need is a nurse!”
-
-Tom smiled. Life was beginning to brighten. The chop was excellent, the
-potatoes hot and crisp, and the iced coffee reached the right spot.
-After all, he reflected, perhaps he had been premature in resolving
-to sever his connection with baseball! And he was quite convinced of
-it when Mr. Cummings had got through lecturing him and it was time
-to hustle to the station for his train to Derry. They parted on the
-sidewalk in front of the restaurant, Mr. Cummings sending Tom away with
-a heartening slap on the back and the admonition to cheer up and get
-his nerve back.
-
-Tom found Uncle Israel’s condition still further improved when he
-reached home. “He et a good supper,” announced Aunt Patty in triumph.
-“Milk toast and the white of two eggs he had. And he’s been asleep
-ever since half-past seven.” She listened and nodded satisfiedly. “And
-don’t you make no noise as you go up, Tom,” she added.
-
-The next day Uncle Israel was well enough to be seen, and Tom tiptoed
-into the room in the afternoon. Uncle Israel, propped up against the
-pillows, his big gnarled hands spread out on the checked comforter,
-looked pale and grim. But a slight smile fluttered over his face as Tom
-came forward anxiously.
-
-“Well, you didn’t get rid o’ me this time,” said Uncle Israel rather
-weakly. “Guess I’m tougher than you thought, eh?”
-
-Tom flushed. “I guess nobody wanted to get rid of you, sir,” he replied
-awkwardly. Uncle Israel grunted.
-
-“Ain’t in no hurry to get the farm then?”
-
-“No, sir, I’m not. Besides, I didn’t know--I mean----”
-
-“You mean you wasn’t certain you’d get it, eh? Well, you will when I
-get through with it. And there’s a tidy bit goes with it, too. If I
-didn’t leave it to you, who would I leave it to?” Uncle Israel glared
-quite ferociously.
-
-“I hope you won’t leave it to anyone, sir, for a long time yet. Are you
-feeling much better?”
-
-“Humph! I guess I’ll pull through. Will if that woman don’t starve me
-to death. What you been doing, Tom?”
-
-“I played baseball for the high school yesterday, sir. I pitched for
-them.”
-
-Uncle Israel nodded. “That’s play. What you been doing in the way of
-work? Cummings and Wright still satisfied with you?”
-
-“I think so. You remember I told you they’d promised me a raise of
-wages in September.”
-
-“Must have money to waste,” Uncle Israel grumbled. But his eyes held
-a kindly gleam in spite of his ungracious tone and Tom suspected that
-Uncle Israel was secretly a bit proud of his success. “I s’pose your
-school’s about over, ain’t it?”
-
-“Yes, sir, it closes Wednesday.”
-
-“Learned anything, have you?”
-
-“Lots, sir.”
-
-“Humph! I guess, if the truth was told, you’ve been too much taken up
-with those games o’ baseball to learn much. Sold that pump yet?”
-
-“No, sir, not yet. I guess I won’t be able to right away.”
-
-“How much you askin’ for it?”
-
-“Thirty dollars.”
-
-“Thirty dollars! Want to get rich in a hurry, don’t you?”
-
-“That isn’t too much for it, sir. It’s in perfect condition. It worked
-like a breeze when the contractors had it.”
-
-“Humph! Wouldn’t take twenty for it, eh?”
-
-“No, sir, I wouldn’t want to.”
-
-“Nor twenty-five?”
-
-“N-no, I don’t think so. Maybe I might, though, if anyone wanted it and
-would haul it away at that price.”
-
-“I’ll take it,” said Uncle Israel.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIII
-
-“PLAY BALL!”
-
-
-Tom stared, open-mouthed. “You--you’ll take it, sir?”
-
-Uncle Israel nodded. “If it don’t work like you say it will, though,
-I won’t pay a cent for it. We ain’t had a decent breath o’ wind for
-a month and we’ve been haulin’ all the water for the barn by hand.
-Windmills ain’t worth ten cents without wind and that one out there
-ain’t done a mite o’ work for a month, not to speak of.”
-
-“But--but if you want it, sir, you may have it,” said Tom eagerly.
-“You’re perfectly welcome to it, Uncle.”
-
-“Maybe I am, but I’ll pay for it. You start it out here when you get
-back. But if it don’t pump water for me, back it goes, Tom. Now you
-tell that female downstairs that, if she don’t fetch me up something to
-eat inside of five minutes, I’ll get up and forage for myself!”
-
-When, on Monday morning, Tom informed him that Uncle Israel had bought
-the pump back, Mr. Cummings laughed until the tears came. “Tom,” he
-said finally, “you’ll be the death of me! Think of palming that thing
-off on your uncle again!”
-
-“But it’s perfectly all right, sir,” insisted Tom.
-
-“Sure it’s all right, son. I’m not saying it isn’t. But the idea of
-selling it back to Israel Bowles gets me!”
-
-Tom couldn’t see as much humour in it as Mr. Cummings, but he smiled
-and hurried out to arrange for having the pump hauled out to the farm.
-When he returned to the store, Mr. Cummings was telling the junior
-partner about it, and Mr. Wright was cackling as if it was the best
-joke in the world.
-
-That was a busy week for Tom. School closed on Wednesday, but before
-that there was a big dance in the school hall given by the graduating
-class. Tom went, dressed in his best suit of black serge, which was
-rather shiny by daylight but looked almost new at night, and had a
-rather enjoyable time. He didn’t dance, for he didn’t know how and
-would have been too shy if he had, but there were lots of other boys
-who didn’t dance either, and they had a merry time looking on with
-superior manners and passing jokes about the others. Besides that,
-there were wonderful refreshments and the non-dancers soon discovered
-that they possessed a distinct advantage in being able to visit the
-tables as often as they wished! Sidney, with a blue-and-gold badge
-pinned to the lapel of his evening coat, was in fine feather and quite
-in his element. Tom didn’t see very much of him, for Sidney was an
-indefatigable dancer and was, besides, on the committee.
-
-The next day the graduation exercises took place in the forenoon and at
-three o’clock the High School team met the Amesville Electric Company
-nine. The Electrics were a good deal older than their opponents, but in
-spite of that High School had no difficulty in beating them, 14 to 6.
-Tom found himself again that afternoon. Each of the three pitchers was
-put in for three innings, Pete Farrar starting the game, Tom following
-him, and Toby Williams finishing out. Tom’s slants worked to perfection
-and in the three innings that he pitched only two men reached first
-base. All the runs made by the Electrics were scored during Pete’s
-period on the mound. Toby, if he allowed the enemy to press him hard
-once or twice, emerged with a clean slate.
-
-On Thursday there was a big picnic at a neighbouring grove, but Tom, a
-bit conscience-stricken at having been away from the store so much, did
-not attend. Final baseball practice was held Friday forenoon and the
-boys had a severe siege of it. The pitchers worked for nearly an hour
-under Mr. George’s direction before they were released to take part in
-fielding practice. Mr. George, on Monday, had heard Tom’s account of
-his Saturday’s fiasco in the box and had reiterated what Mr. Cummings
-had said.
-
-“You shouldn’t have tried to pitch, Tom,” he said. “You should have
-told Bat that you weren’t fit for it and he’d have let you off.”
-
-“I know, sir, but after going to all that trouble to get there in time
-for the game----”
-
-“That hadn’t anything to do with it. Your part is to help win games,
-Tom, and if you can do it better by staying out you ought to stay
-out. Get that? There’s no sense in a man’s pitching if he isn’t in
-shape, because it’s a cinch that the other fellows are going to land
-on him and run away with the game. Take my advice, son, and after this
-when you’re not up to the mark you say so. You know better than the
-manager--I mean the coach--how you’re feeling. It’s the team first,
-every time, son.”
-
-Tom wondered a hundred times that week whether he was to be given a
-chance to redeem himself. Wondered, too, whether, if he was allowed
-to pitch on Saturday, he would be able to do any better than before.
-But he felt pretty confident after the game with the Electrics that he
-would. He realised that his inability to pitch good ball last Saturday
-was due to physical weariness; and mental weariness, too, perhaps; and
-not to any loss of cunning in that right arm of his.
-
-Saturday dawned breathlessly still and very hot, too hot to eat any
-breakfast, Tom decided. But Mr. George, who came to the table while Tom
-was still trifling with a piece of toast and a glass of milk, decided
-otherwise and made the boy eat two soft-boiled eggs. At the store Mr.
-Cummings fussed about him all the morning, taking work out of his
-hands and forever bidding him take things easy and not get tired. If
-Mr. Cummings could have had his way, Tom would have remained seated in
-an arm-chair in the office all the forenoon! The game was to begin at
-three-thirty instead of two-thirty in order to avoid as much of the
-heat as possible. At luncheon Tom was much too restless and excited,
-too anxious, in fact, to eat without persuasion. Mr. George supplied
-the persuasion. After luncheon, seeing that his protégé was “up in
-the air,” to use his own expression, the detective took him into the
-side-yard and let him pitch three or four dozen balls leisurely in
-order to take his mind off the coming contest. Finally, when Mr. George
-had called a halt, and they were back in the shade of the porch, Tom
-asked the question that he had been eager to ask for days.
-
-“I wonder----” he began. Then he stopped. At last he started again: “Do
-you suppose, Mr. George, they’re going to let me pitch to-day?”
-
-“Sure to. I don’t know whether Bat will start you or Toby Williams,
-but it’s going to take more than one pitcher to get through a game on
-a day like this. So you’re certain to get your chance. When you do,
-Tom, just remember that you aren’t expected to perform any miracles.
-Lots of young pitchers get the idea fixed in their heads that the
-whole game depends on them. They get so anxious and keyed up that they
-don’t do themselves justice. Just remember that you’ve got eight
-other fellows with you, Tom, and let them do their share. When you
-get where it’s a case of put one across or give a base, why, slam it
-over and let someone else worry. And whatever you do, son, work slow.
-Take all the time you want--and then some! Don’t let anyone hurry you.
-It’s better for you and it’s harder on the batsman. Lots of men can’t
-stand a pitcher who’s deliberate. They want to hit and hit right away,
-and the more the pitcher keeps ’em waiting the more anxious they get.
-And there’s no one easier to handle than an over-anxious batter. He
-will reach out after wide ones and step back for inside ones and it’s
-dollars to doughnuts you’ve got his number right at the start. Just
-remember that, Tom. Time doesn’t cost you a cent. Help yourself to it!”
-
-Then, later, on the way out to the grounds on the car, they went over
-once more the peculiarities of the players of the Petersburg team. Mr.
-George had them all catalogued as to their batting. This one was death
-on low ones outside and mustn’t have that sort. This one was a good
-bunter and must not be fed high ones. This one, with runners on second
-or third and the game at a critical place, should be passed, since he
-was a hard clouter. And so on, Tom listening and memorising.
-
-“Of course, this is up to Craig,” said Mr. George, “but he may forget
-or mix his signals and so there’s no harm in your knowing what you’re
-up against. Here we are. Pile out!”
-
-That final game drew the biggest crowd of the season, although the
-stands were but half-filled when the team assembled for warming-up
-work. By the time the game was called, however, the seats were all
-occupied and there was a good sprinkling of spectators along the
-base-lines. About everyone we know was there. Mr. Cummings, of course,
-rather excited and waving a palm-leaf fan in a corner of the players’
-bench; Mr. and Mrs. Morris in a front row of the stand near third base;
-(Tom went over and chatted with them a minute just before the teams
-took their positions;) Mr. Tully, whom Tom had presented with a ticket,
-his coat in his lap and his pipe sending a cloud of smoke straight up
-in the still air; and several others from the boarding-house, who had
-in some way or other managed to get the afternoon off.
-
-The umpire was the physical director from the Young Men’s Christian
-Association, who caused some amusement by appearing with the upper part
-of his body attired in a striped blazer of black and yellow, which he
-kept carefully buttoned all during the game, thus giving the impression
-that there was nothing underneath!
-
-Each team warmed up three pitchers, not a very difficult feat on
-such a day. Of the local twirlers, Tom and Toby looked in the pink
-of condition, but Pete Farrar had a fagged look about him. At a few
-minutes before the half-hour the diamond emptied and the players
-retired to the benches. Then the umpire walked to the plate, swept it
-with a broom, and looked toward the Amesville bench.
-
-“All right, High School,” announced Mr. Talbot. “On the run, now!
-Pollock, you’ll start the game. Take it easy; we’ve got nine innings to
-go and this is some hot!”
-
-The fielders trotted across the sun-smitten turf to their places,
-Sam Craig donned his mask, Tom walked to the mound, the first of the
-Petersburg batsmen stepped to the plate, and the umpire called, “Play
-ball!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIV
-
-PITCHER POLLOCK
-
-
-It _was_ hot! Tom’s head felt as though it was being slowly baked in
-spite of his cap as, getting the signal from Sam, he swung his arms
-up and sped a fast ball across in the groove. Behind him the cheerful
-voices of his team-mates made a spattering chorus.
-
-“Here we go Tom! You’ve got his number, old man!”
-
-“No one walks, Tom!”
-
-“That’s pitching ’em, Tom, old boy! That’s pitching ’em!”
-
-“No one sees first this inning, fellows! On your toes now!”
-
-The head of the Petersburg batting-list retired to the bench, flicking
-his bat disgustedly toward the pile. Just four balls had settled him.
-The next youth up was a clever bunter and the infield shortened a
-little. Tom sped them in low; one strike; one ball; two strikes; two
-balls----
-
-Then the batsman was streaking for first and Bert Meyers, coming on
-the dead run, was scooping up the trickling ball. A quick underhand
-throw, a stab into the air of Buster’s “meat hand,” and two men were
-out. Petersburg put the next batsman on first, but went into the field
-a minute or two later when Tom made his second strike-out. Amesville
-cheered then and kept on cheering until Buster had tapped the plate
-with his bat and stood awaiting his fate. But neither Buster nor Bert
-Meyers, who followed, was able to solve the opposing pitcher. Frank
-Warner reached his base on a scratch hit that was too hard for second
-baseman to handle, but was out a minute later on an attempted steal.
-
-Again Amesville took the field and again Tom, working with machine-like
-precision, mowed the enemy down in one, two, three order. For
-Amesville, Tommy Hughes struck out, Sidney reached first on a wild
-throw by second baseman, Smithie fanned, and Kenny went out to centre
-fielder. Calvert, the Petersburg slab artist, was in fine form to-day.
-When all is said, there’s nothing like a roasting hot day to show a
-pitcher at his best, and it was very evident that the redoubtable
-Calvert, a small, wiry youth with a shock of hair the colour of
-butcher’s paper, liked the conditions. In spite of the fact that up
-to the end of the third inning no one got beyond first base, the
-contest proved breathlessly exciting to both the supporters of the home
-team and to the good-sized contingent that had travelled over from
-the neighbouring town. It was a pitchers’ battle, with the honours
-about even, but one never knows in baseball when a break will come.
-A lucky hit, an error at a critical moment, a close decision by an
-umpire--any of these things are often sufficient to start a rally and,
-in a few short minutes, change the entire complexion of the game. When
-Petersburg came to bat in the first of the fourth there was tension
-evidenced amongst players and spectators both. Petersburg had three of
-her best batters coming up.
-
-If Tom felt the tension he didn’t show it. Mr. George, seated on the
-bench beside Coach Talbot, voiced admiration in low tones. “I never saw
-a youngster who had the form that kid’s got,” he said to the coach as
-Tom, settling his visor over his eyes, leaned forward to get the signal
-from the catcher. “He’s a born pitcher, Bat; you can’t get around it!”
-
-“Yes,” Mr. Talbot nodded. “In about three years from now he will be a
-wonder. Ever hear him say whether he was going to college?”
-
-“I’ve heard him say he wanted to,” replied the detective, “but he
-doesn’t think he will be able to. There isn’t much money, I guess.”
-
-“He’s got to go, Ben. I’m going to talk to him about it. I’d like to
-steer him to my college, if I could.”
-
-“He could play professional ball in two or three years if he wanted
-to,” mused Mr. George. “I could get him a try-out any day, and it
-wouldn’t be long before he’d be grabbed up by one of the Big League
-teams.”
-
-“Time enough for that when he’s been through college, Ben. Besides,
-and meaning no offence, the boy’s too smart to waste himself playing
-baseball for a living.”
-
-“I don’t know, Bat. Baseball isn’t what it used to be, and ball players
-aren’t like what they were once. Not that I’m knocking the old-timers,
-either. I come pretty near being one myself. But there’s a pretty fine,
-self-respecting lot of men playing professional ball these days. Why,
-say, it’s just as respectable a profession as--as medicine or law,
-isn’t it?”
-
-“Maybe. I didn’t mean that. The trouble is a ball player uses up the
-best years of his life getting nowhere, Ben.”
-
-“I don’t know about that, either. As I said before, it isn’t like it
-used to be. Ball players are pretty smart nowadays, and by the time
-they’re getting by they’ve worked up a nice little business on the side
-or saved up a tidy bunch of money.”
-
-“If they’re the saving kind,” answered the coach with a smile. “You
-know yourself, Ben, you wouldn’t deliberately advise Pollock to become
-a professional ball player. Now would you?”
-
-“N-no, I guess I wouldn’t. Still, if there wasn’t anything better----”
-
-“There is, though, for that chap. I don’t know what it is, but he’s got
-a good head on his shoulders and he’s naturally smart and not afraid of
-work. If he was my boy, I’d put him into college, give him a couple of
-years to look around and decide on a profession or an occupation, and
-then see that he buckled down and worked hard. What’s his father like?”
-
-“Dead. He lives with an uncle out at Derry. The uncle’s a farmer and a
-bit tight-fisted, they tell me. Maybe Tom will get the property when
-the old man dies. I don’t know.”
-
-“Well, he’s got two more years at high school. By that time--I’ll have
-a talk with him some day. I haven’t much money myself, Ben, but I’d
-scrimp a bit to see a kid like that make good and not go to waste.”
-
-“Why, say; so’d I, Bat. I’m fond of that boy, too. You’ve no idea how
-plucky he is. Why, when I ran across him at the boarding-house, Bat,
-he’d been teaching himself to pitch with one of these ten-cent books!
-And he was doing it, too! Look here, let’s you and me sort of keep an
-eye on him, Bat. I haven’t a pile of money, either, but I’d spend a
-little to help Tom through college, if that was what you were thinking
-of.”
-
-Coach Talbot nodded. “Something of the sort. Of course, if he showed up
-strong in a couple of years, he could get into a college and not have
-to pay anything. Take my own college, for instance. There’s a lot of
-old grads who are always on the lookout for promising athletes. Any
-fellow who looks real good to them can get through four years without
-its costing him a cent. It’s done right along. But, somehow, I don’t
-like it. It may do for some fellows, Bat, but it’s--it’s----”
-
-“I wouldn’t let a boy of mine do it--if I had one,” declared Mr.
-George with emphasis. “Maybe in a couple of years, Bat, you and I will
-be flusher. Then Tom’s got a pretty good position with Cummings and
-Wright. Cummings is real fond of him; you can see that. In two years he
-might be able to save quite a little himself. Then, maybe, you and I,
-we could----”
-
-Mr. Talbot nodded again. Then he laughed softly. “We’re a funny pair to
-be adopting a boy, Ben!”
-
-“I wasn’t meaning to exactly adopt him----”
-
-“I understand. We’ll think it over. Anyhow, at least we can keep an eye
-on the chap and see that he doesn’t---- Hello! here’s trouble!”
-
-Tom had fanned the first batsman, but the second, after waiting
-craftily, had drawn a pass. The Petersburg coachers shouted joyfully:
-
-“Here’s where we break it up, fellows! Here we go! Make it be good,
-Gus, make it be good!”
-
-But Tom steadied down again and the best the next batter could do was
-to hit to shortstop and the first runner was out at second, the double
-failing by a scant foot. The next man up caught an out-shoot on the
-end of his bat and whaled it into deep centre, placing the runner on
-third and wisely staying at first himself. By this time the Petersburg
-supporters were rooting lustily and the coachers were shouting their
-lungs out at first and third. The latter realised that if they could
-unsteady the rival pitcher for a moment now they could leap into the
-lead. The man on first stole on the first ball, a pitchout, and Sam
-Craig slammed the ball back to Tom. The runner on third, however, was
-too canny to try for the plate, although he had taken a good lead.
-
-With one ball to his credit, for the batsman had wisely refrained from
-hitting at the pitchout, knowing that Sam Craig would not be likely to
-throw down to second with a man on third, he allowed a strike to go by,
-an in-shoot that broke beautifully and slipped over the inside of the
-plate. Then came another ball, a drop. And then, while Tom was poised
-on one foot, his hands overhead, two things happened simultaneously.
-Mr. Talbot leaped from the bench with an involuntary exclamation of
-warning and the runner on third, who had been taking a good twelve-foot
-lead, dashed for the plate!
-
-Sam’s shout was not necessary, nor the cries of the fielders, for Tom
-had already seen what was up. Hurriedly he stepped forward and sped
-the ball to the catcher, the batsman struck at it and missed, and the
-runner slid feet forward for the plate. Down swept Sam’s arm, but the
-runner was safe, one foot hooked into the plate and his body well out
-of reach. And on third the man from second danced and shouted in a
-cloud of dust!
-
-Petersburg yelled and hooted. Tom, who had followed the delivery to the
-plate on the run, looked ruefully at Sam. Sam, frowning, walked across
-and placed the ball in his hand.
-
-“Watch out for that, Tom,” he whispered. “They’ll try it again if they
-need a run badly. All right, let’s get this one.”
-
-And Tom got him, sending two slow balls across shoulder-high, at each
-of which the batsman struck and each of which he missed.
-
-“Now then, fellows, let’s get after them!” called Frank Warner as
-Amesville went to bat. But Calvert still was master, and, although
-Meyers hit safely and was advanced to second by the captain’s neat
-sacrifice bunt, Tommy Hughes and Sidney were easy outs, the former
-hitting straight into third baseman’s glove and the latter retiring on
-strikes.
-
-Tom went through the fifth without misadventure, disposing of the
-Petersburg tail-enders easily. But after Amesville had been to bat
-again the score still stood 1 to 0 in Petersburg’s favour. Calvert had
-no strike-outs that inning, but he made two assists, knocking down two
-liners and fielding them to first in time to put out Smith and Kenny.
-Sam Craig brought the Amesville rooters to their feet when he smashed
-the ball far into left field for what might easily have been good for
-two bases, but which resulted only in a put-out for the fielder who,
-after a pretty sprint, made a brilliant one-hand catch of the long fly.
-
-“All up for the lucky seventh!” was the slogan of the Petersburg
-supporters as the teams changed places. And a “lucky seventh” it proved
-to be, but not for Petersburg. Tom added two strike-outs to his credit
-and, although the opposing catcher got a two-bagger off him, the side
-went out without a run.
-
-In the last half Amesville found her chance. Calvert let down for an
-instant, passed Kenny, and then made the mistake of giving Sam Craig a
-low ball outside. Sam, who swung a long bat and loved low ones, lighted
-on it for two bases and sent Joe Kenny to third. Then the Petersburg
-pitcher recovered, and Tom went out on strikes. Buster hit a slow one
-to shortstop, who, after making certain that the runner on third was
-not trying to score, threw hurriedly to first. The ball struck in front
-of the baseman and bounded away from him, and amidst wild acclaim
-Amesville scored her first run. Meyers went out, third to first, but
-Frank Warner again proved his dependability as a batsman by lining out
-a red-hot one straight through the pitcher’s box, bringing in Sam Craig
-and Buster. Such shouting as followed then! Mr. Cummings climbed up on
-the bench and waved his palm-leaf fan in one hand and his straw hat in
-the other and shouted himself purple in the face, while Mr. Talbot and
-Mr. George, their faces wreathed in smiles, gravely shook hands! The
-pandemonium kept up for minute after minute, while Captain Warner,
-dancing around on first, begged Tommy Hughes to “smash it, Tommy, smash
-it!” But Calvert, a little pale and serious, showed his grit then by
-settling down and disposing of Tommy with just four pitched balls!
-
-But with a lead of two runs Amesville’s chances seemed dazzlingly
-bright, and so they remained all through the eighth, in which inning,
-if the Brown-and-Blue could not add to her score, neither could the
-visitors. And so the ninth inning began with the figures 3 to 1 and
-everything pointing to a victory for Amesville.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXV
-
-THREE OUT
-
-
-Mr. Cummings, who had not failed to inquire anxiously between the
-innings how Tom felt, and who had on each occasion received the
-same answer, “Fine, thanks, sir!” found Tom’s reply this time less
-reassuring.
-
-“I’m all right, Mr. Cummings,” Tom said. “I’ll be glad when it’s over,
-though. It’s the first time I’ve pitched nine innings to real batters,
-sir.”
-
-“Arm getting tired?” asked Mr. Cummings solicitously.
-
-Tom shook his head and smiled. “No, sir, it’s my head. I never knew
-before,” he added, “that a pitcher did so much pitching with his head!”
-
-“Well, just you keep it up, son. You’ve done great work so far. Don’t
-you let ’em get at you this time!”
-
-“I’ll try not to,” replied Tom quietly, slipping out of his coat.
-
-But the pace had been hard, and Tom was feeling it now. He put himself
-in a hole with the first batsman when what should have been a straight
-one went wild, an out-shoot missed the plate by an inch and a drop was
-judged too low by the umpire. With three balls and no strikes, Tom
-recalled Mr. George’s advice and shook his head when Sam asked for an
-in-shoot. Instead he sent a ball straight over, fast but with nothing
-on, and scored a strike. Again Sam wanted a curve, and again Tom shook
-his head. This time, with a change of pace, he tried a slow ball in the
-groove, and the batsman struck and missed.
-
-“He can’t do it again, Jimmy! Make it be good, old scout!” shouted the
-coach on first.
-
-Another straight ball in the groove, breast-high this time. The batter
-found it, there was a sharp _crack_, and the ball was sailing into
-the outfield over second baseman’s head. By the time Tommy Hughes had
-run in and thrown it to Frank Warner the runner was safe on second
-base, and Petersburg was howling her triumph. For a minute it seemed
-that Tom was going to put himself in the hole again, for his first two
-deliveries were balls. But a “knuckler” fooled the second batsman and
-a drop that looked awfully good until it was almost at the plate evened
-the score. Then a low one straight across the rubber, which the batsman
-swung at terrifically and missed by inches, made the first out. The
-next man landed on the first ball and drove it between shortstop and
-third, but Joe Kenny had sneaked in and his throw to the plate, while
-it let the batsman get to second, held the first runner at third, and
-brought a salvo of applause from the home-team’s supporters.
-
-Tom was bothered now by the memory of that steal to the plate and was
-afraid to wind up lest the runner on third duplicate the performance of
-his team-mate. The result was that the batsman, after fouling several
-times and having two strikes called on him, got his base on balls.
-There was but one out now and the bases were filled, and Petersburg was
-cheering and shouting continuously and beating time lustily with feet
-and hands. Back of first and third the coachers kept up an unceasing
-cross-fire. On the bench Mr. George leaned forward anxiously.
-
-“If he gives that fellow one on the outside, it’s all over,” he
-muttered. Mr. Talbot nodded.
-
-“If we get out of this mess with less than two runs coming across,
-we’ll be lucky,” he said.
-
-Sam Craig walked down and conferred a minute with Tom, and the visiting
-partisans hooted loudly. The infield moved in to cut off runs at the
-plate. It was Petersburg’s chance to win the game.
-
-Tom knew that he must at least keep the next two men from hitting out
-of the infield. Neither of them were dangerous batters, although that
-counted for little since at such times it frequently happens that the
-poorest hitter on a team comes to the mark with a rescuing wallop.
-The first batsman was plainly anxious to hit, and Sam took his cue
-from that. The first ball was a drop that failed to please the umpire.
-Sam was more than ordinarily deliberate in returning the ball to Tom,
-and Tom was as slow as cold molasses. He looked all over the field
-before he even faced the batsman again. Then he studied that youth
-thoughtfully for several seconds before he began to wrap his fingers
-about the ball. The batter showed his impatience. He stepped from one
-foot to the other, leaned across the plate, flourished his bat with
-short strokes. Sam gave the signal, Tom nodded, threw up his hands,
-and shot the ball like a streak of greased lightning across the inner
-corner of the platter.
-
-“Strike!” announced the umpire. The batsman turned angrily.
-
-“What!” he cried. Sam tossed back the ball. On third the runner was
-dancing and shuffling, running along the base-line with Tom’s wind-up,
-and scooting back to the bag as the ball was delivered.
-
-Again the signal and again the ball sped forward. But this time it
-was a slow one that floated lazily to the plate and then erratically
-settled down and under the swinging bat.
-
-“Strike two!” said the umpire.
-
-The batsman could not dispute that. He only growled and glared
-ferociously at Tom. The latter could afford to waste one and so he
-answered Sam’s signal with an in-shoot that was refused and went as
-a ball. It was two and two now. The stands were almost silent as Tom
-wound up for his next delivery. Very deliberately he went at it and
-when, finally, his hand shot forward it hardly seemed that there could
-be any “steam” on the ball. And yet I doubt if few persons saw it
-after it left Tom’s hand. Certainly the batsman didn’t. One could
-discern his brief instant of indecision before he swung his bat around
-with every ounce of strength behind it. He spun on his heel, staggered,
-and recovered as the umpire cried:
-
-“_Striker’s out!_”
-
-Amesville burst into joyful acclaim and on the bench Mr. George, with a
-pleased smile and a satisfied sigh, leaned back again.
-
-“Two gone!” cried Frank Warner cheerfully. “Last man, fellows!”
-
-The next batsman, who was Petersburg’s left fielder, showed none of
-the nervous impatience of the previous player. He stood square to the
-plate, crowded a little, and looked at Tom steadily as he poised his
-bat. Sam Craig, as he squatted to give his signal, glanced down the
-base-line toward where the runner on third was pawing the earth a few
-feet from the bag, ready on the instant to race for the plate. Tom’s
-glance followed Sam’s for an instant as he wrapped his fingers about
-the ball. That runner on third was disquieting. Even, though, Tom
-comforted himself, if he did steal home the score would still be 3 to
-2. It would be best to give all his attention to the batsman and not
-allow that dancing, shouting figure over there to take his mind from
-the real task, which was to strike out the man at the plate.
-
-A ball was called and then a strike, Tom risking a “knuckler” with good
-results. Then there was a brief instant of panic when the next delivery
-went wild and bounded into the earth at the right of the plate. But
-Sam dropped in front of it and saved a run then and there. There was a
-warning note in his voice as he sped the ball back.
-
-“Take your time, Tom! Now, right over with it!”
-
-Tom frowned as the ball slapped back into his glove. He had allowed
-that fellow on third to take his mind from the ball at the moment of
-delivery. He must stop that or something would happen. Very resolutely
-then he strove to close his ears to the “Hi! hi! hi!” of the coacher’s
-voice and his eyes to the figure that leaped back and forth along the
-base-line there. And he succeeded, for his next ball broke sharply out
-and down and the bat passed over it with a vicious swish and the umpire
-announced “Strike two!”
-
-It was two and two now. Sam did not intend that Tom should waste any,
-for he signalled for a low one outside. And Tom pulled at his visor,
-hitched up his trousers, glanced idly about the bases, and fingered the
-ball. Then back went his arms behind his head, up came his foot, and----
-
-“_There he goes!_” shrieked a dozen voices. A babel of warning shouts
-burst on the air. Half-way between third and home the runner, head down
-and legs twinkling, was eating up the space. At the plate Sam Craig
-with outstretched hands begged for the ball!
-
-Tom was in the middle of his wind-up when the warning reached him and
-it seemed to him afterward that in one brief atom of time he did more
-thinking than could ordinarily be crowded into the space of a full
-minute. His startled glance showed him that if he was to head off the
-runner he must get the ball to the catcher like a streak. But, he
-reasoned, if he pitched hurriedly he might pitch wildly, and a passed
-ball meant not only that run but another one besides, for the man at
-second was already streaking to third. Even if a run crossed the plate
-the score would still be 3 to 2 in Amesville’s favour. All this passed
-through Tom’s mind in a twinkling, in such a period of time, perhaps,
-as allowed the flying runner to twice set foot to ground. And not for
-even so brief a time had Tom paused in his delivery. What indecision
-there was was of his mind only, for his muscles went through their
-routine smoothly, his body lunged forward, his arm shot out, and away
-shot the ball.
-
-But Sam never got that throw, and the runner from third, with a frantic
-slide, scored undisputed. For Tom, instead of pitching to the plate,
-had stepped out of the box and hurled the ball to Bert Meyers at third.
-It went hard and straight, and Bert, although he was not expecting it,
-was ready for it when it came to him breast-high. The ball slammed into
-his glove, he stepped one stride along the path, and the runner from
-second, seeing his danger too late to stop and double back, dived for
-the bag. But down came Bert’s arm and it was all over!
-
-On to the diamond flooded the triumphant partisans of the Brown-and-Blue.
-Cheers filled the air. Tom, struggling in vain, was heaved to the
-shoulders of two joy-maddened youths and held there by others. Surprised
-and breathless, clutching for support, he looked down over the heads of
-the laughing, shouting crowd that surged across the field. The other
-players had been captured, or most of them at least, for Tom saw them
-here and there above the crowd. Frank Warner, grinning, came swaying by
-on the shoulders of a pushing trio.
-
-“Bully work, Pollock!” he shouted.
-
-Then Tom’s bearers fell in behind and in a moment there was a
-procession of captured players swaying here and there around the
-diamond. Tom caught sight of Mr. Cummings, red-faced, shouting
-unintelligibly; of Mr. George, a wide smile on his face; and of May
-Warner, standing straight and exultant at the front of the stand and
-waving a brown-and-blue banner. As Tom passed she caught his eye and
-waved more wildly than ever. And Tom found himself actually smiling at
-her!
-
-And then, a little farther on toward the gate, his bearers were
-crowded close to the edge of the stand and his gaze, passing a trifle
-shamefacedly over the faces that lined it, fell on the laughing
-countenance of Mrs. Morris. She clapped her hands as she saw him, and
-then:
-
-“Tom! Tom!” she called across. “Do be careful of your hair!”
-
-And Tom, laughing and blushing a little, put up an unsteady hand and
-discovered himself bare-headed. He had lost his cap! Not that it
-mattered, however. Nothing did matter. Amesville had won!
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-
- Transcriber’s Notes:
-
- --Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
-
- --Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to
- follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the
- illustration may not match the page number in the Illustrations.
-
- --Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
-
- --Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
-
- --Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
-
- --The Author’s long dash style has been retained.
-
- --Page 294: the phrase "the sporting goods department were handed
- over" was duplicated on the third and fifth lines of the first
- paragraph. Unfortunately, the first instance _replaced_ a missing
- line of text. The paragraph was retained as printed.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pitcher Pollock, by Christy Mathewson
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pitcher Pollock, by Christy Mathewson
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Pitcher Pollock
-
-Author: Christy Mathewson
-
-Illustrator: Charles M. Relyea
-
-Release Date: December 24, 2015 [EBook #50761]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PITCHER POLLOCK ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by The
-Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-
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-</pre>
-
-
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="600" height="896" alt="cover" title="cover" />
-<br />
-<div class="caption">Transcriber's Note: The cover image was created from the title
-page by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</div>
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<p class="noic">PITCHER POLLOCK</p>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 408px;">
-<a id="image01">
- <img src="images/image01.jpg" width="408" height="600" alt="" title="" />
-</a><br />
-<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_333">Down came Bert’s arm and it was all over</a></div>
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h1>PITCHER POLLOCK</h1>
-
-<p class="noic">BY</p>
-
-<p class="noi subtitle">CHRISTY MATHEWSON</p>
-
-<p class="p2 noi works">AUTHOR OF</p>
-
-<p class="noic">FIRST BASE FAULKNER,<br />
-CATCHER CRAIG, <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></p>
-
-<p class="p6 noi works">ILLUSTRATED BY</p>
-
-<p class="noi author">CHARLES M. RELYEA</p>
-
-<div class="pad4">
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 64px;">
-<img src="images/logo.jpg" width="64" height="64" alt="logo" title="logo" />
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="noic"><span class="author">GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP</span><br />
-PUBLISHERS      NEW YORK</p>
-
-
-<p class="p2 noi works">Made in the United States of America</p>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<p class="noic"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1914, by</span><br />
-DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY</p>
-
-
-<p class="p6 noic">PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.</p>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
-
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
-<col style="width: 20%;" />
-<col style="width: 70%;" />
-<col style="width: 10%;" />
-<tr>
- <th class="smfontr">CHAPTER</th>
- <th class="tdl"></th>
- <th class="smfontr">PAGE</th>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">I</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">TOM HUNTS A JOB</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">3</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">II</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">AND FINDS IT</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">14</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">III</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">UNCLE ISRAEL SAYS “NO”</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">27</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">IV</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">AT CUMMINGS AND WRIGHT’S</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">35</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">V</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">TOM LOOKS AT HIS HAIR</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">48</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">VI</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">TWO PAIRS OF SKATES</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">64</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">VII</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">TOM GAINS PROMOTION</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">82</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">VIII</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">AN OUT-CURVE</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">100</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">IX</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">TOM WANTS TO KNOW</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">114</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">X</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">TOM PLAYS IN A REAL GAME</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">124</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XI</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">THE BLUES VISIT LYNTON</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">138</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XII</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">“BATTER’S OUT”</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">151</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XIII</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">TOM TWIRLS TO VICTORY</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">164</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XIV</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">COACH TALBOT MAKES A CALL</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">180</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XV</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">THE PUMP CHANGES HANDS</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">197</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XVI</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">THE DETECTIVE DONS A MASK</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">214</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XVII</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">AFTERNOON PRACTICE</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">224</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XVIII</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">TOM TWIRLS FOR THE SCRUBS</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">237</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XIX</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">WITH THE TEAM</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">249</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XX</td>
- <td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">AMESVILLE LOSES THE GAME</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">264</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XXI</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">KNOCKED OUT OF THE BOX</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">283</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XXII</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">UNCLE ISRAEL SITS UP</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">293</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XXIII</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">“PLAY BALL!”</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">304</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XXIV</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">PITCHER POLLOCK</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">313</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdrt">XXV</td>
- <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">THREE OUT</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">325</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
-
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations">
-<col style="width: 80%;" />
-<col style="width: 20%;" />
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#image01">Down came Bert’s arm and it was all over</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb"><i>Frontispiece</i></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl hang">&nbsp;</td>
- <td class="smfontr">FACING PAGE</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#image02">“I was wondering sir,” said Tom, “if after
-I’ve paid that bill I couldn’t have the pump”</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">46</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#image03">“‘Grasp the ball firmly,’” recited Sidney,
-“‘between the thumb and the first two fingers’”</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">120</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
- <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#image04">“Now you watch, son. Better get behind me
-so’s you can see”</a></td>
- <td class="tdrb">210</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<p class="noi title">PITCHER POLLOCK</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a><br />
-<small>TOM HUNTS A JOB</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>“Want to hire a boy?”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Cummings looked around and across the
-showcase at the youth who stood there.</p>
-
-<p>“Want to what?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Hire a boy. I’m looking for a job.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh.” Mr. Cummings turned back to his task
-of rearranging a number of carpenter’s squares
-in a green box and made no other reply for a
-moment. The boy waited silently, watching interestedly.
-Finally, fixing the cover on the box
-and laying it on a shelf, “Ever worked in a
-hardware shop?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t suppose you had. What use would
-you be to me then, eh?” Mr. Cummings peered
-sharply at him.</p>
-
-<p>“I could sweep and run errands and—and wash
-windows and the like of that,” replied the applicant
-imperturbably. “I’ll tell you how it is,
-sir. I live out to Derry, and——”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“What’s your name?”</p>
-
-<p>“Tom Pollock, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t know there were any Pollocks in
-Derry.”</p>
-
-<p>“There ain’t, sir, except me. I live with my
-uncle, Mr. Bowles.”</p>
-
-<p>“Israel Bowles?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hm. So you’re Israel’s nephew, eh? Didn’t
-know he had any kin. Well, all right. Then
-what?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m going to high school next week,” went
-on the boy. He spoke slowly, choosing his words
-carefully and sometimes correcting himself as he
-talked. “I got to live in town because, you see,
-I couldn’t get back and forth every day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Aren’t the trains running out to Derry any
-more?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, but—but it would cost too much,
-you see. So I thought maybe if I could get some
-work here in Amesville——”</p>
-
-<p>“How in tarnation do you expect to work and
-go to school too?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t have to go to school until half-past
-eight and I’d be all through by three, and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>
-thought if I could find some work to do in the
-morning before school and then in the afternoon——”</p>
-
-<p>“I see. Well, I guess you wouldn’t be worth
-much money to anyone, working that way,
-son.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, that’s what I thought. I wasn’t expecting
-to get much, either.”</p>
-
-<p>“Weren’t, eh? How much?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, about——” He hesitated, viewing the
-merchant anxiously. “Of course I don’t know
-much about what folks pay, but Uncle Israel
-said——”</p>
-
-<p>“Hold on a bit,” interrupted Mr. Cummings
-suspiciously. “Did that old—did Israel Bowles
-tell you to come to me?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir. I just started up at the other end of
-town and worked along. I’ve been at it most all
-morning.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hm. Didn’t find anything, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not yet,” answered Tom cheerfully. “I got—I’ve
-got the other side of the street yet, though.
-An’—and I ain’t—haven’t been on the side streets
-at all. I guess I’ll find something.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hope you do,” said the merchant. “But I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
-guess you wouldn’t be much use to me. How much
-did you say you wanted?”</p>
-
-<p>“Two—two and a half a week,” said the boy.
-He gulped as he said it and looked questioningly
-at the merchant. “I thought,” he continued as
-Mr. Cummings’s countenance told him nothing,
-“that if I could get enough to pay my lodging
-I’d make out, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Got to eat, though, haven’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“I—I got a little saved up, sir. I worked for
-a man over to—over in Fairfield most of the
-summer.”</p>
-
-<p>“What for? Isn’t your uncle hiring help any
-more? Hasn’t given up farming, has he?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, but—well, I made more working for
-Mr. Billings.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll bet you did!” Mr. Cummings chuckled.
-“I know that uncle of yours, son, from A to
-Izzard, and there isn’t a meaner old skinflint in
-Muskingum County! He owes me nearly sixty-five
-dollars, and he’s been owing it for nearly six
-years, and I guess he’ll keep on owing it unless
-I sue him for it. Bought a pump of me and then
-claimed it didn’t work right and wouldn’t ever
-send it back or pay for it, the old rascal! Yes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
-I guess sure enough you did better working somewheres
-else, son!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom had nothing to say to this. Perhaps, as a
-dutiful nephew, he should have stood up for Uncle
-Israel, but the hardware dealer’s estimate
-of Mr. Bowles was a very general one and
-Tom had long since become accustomed to hearing
-just such remarks passed. Finally, as the
-merchant seemed to have finished talking, Tom
-said:</p>
-
-<p>“I’m sorry. Well, I guess I’ll be going on.
-Unless—unless you think maybe——”</p>
-
-<p>“Wait a minute.” Mr. Cummings had opened
-the slide at the back of the showcase and was absent-mindedly
-rearranging some boxes of pocket-knives
-and scissors. At last, shutting the slide
-again briskly: “Look here, son, maybe you and
-I can make a dicker yet. Two and a half isn’t a
-whole lot of money, even if times are pretty bad.
-I might give you that much and not go broke, eh?
-How long do you suppose you could work here at
-the store ordinarily?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I could be around by half-past six, I
-think, sir, and work until about eight-twenty-five.
-The school ain’t—isn’t far. Then after school<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
-I’d stay around as long as you wanted me. I—I’d
-like mighty well to work for you, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hm. Well, you look pretty strong and
-healthy. There’d be a lot of heavy work to do.
-Hardware’s hefty stuff to handle, son.” Tom
-nodded, undismayed. “I wasn’t exactly thinking
-of hiring anyone yet awhile. Usually along
-about November we have an extra helper, but
-fall is a dull time, mostly. What about Saturdays?
-Don’t have to go to school then, do
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, I could be here all day Saturday. I
-forgot to tell you that. I’d like, though, to get
-the seven-forty-six train Saturday nights. I’m
-aiming to get home over Sundays. Of course, if
-there was a lot to do, I’d be perfectly willing to
-stay and help, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“We-ell——” Mr. Cummings frowned thoughtfully
-at a lurid powder advertisement that hung
-nearby. “Tell you what you do, son. Had your
-dinner yet?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“You go and have your dinner and then come
-back. My partner will be in at one and I’ll see
-what he says. Then, if he don’t want you, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
-haven’t wasted any time and you can try somewhere
-else.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you. What time’ll I come back?”</p>
-
-<p>“Say half-past one. That will give you most
-an hour for dinner. Guess if you’ve been walking
-around town all forenoon you’ll want most
-an hour, eh?” And Mr. Cummings smiled in a
-friendly, almost jovial way.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir,” returned Tom. His own smile was
-fainter. “I’ll be back then. Much obliged. An’—and
-I hope the other—I hope your partner will
-let me come.”</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll see.” Mr. Cummings waved his hand.
-“I’ll let you know when you come back.” He
-watched the boy speculatively as the latter strode
-unhurriedly down the aisle and out of the door.
-Then, “Miss Miller,” he called, “look up Israel
-Bowles’s account and give me the figures.”</p>
-
-<p>At the back of the store, behind the window of
-the cashier’s partitioned-in desk, a face came momentarily
-into sight and a brown head nodded.</p>
-
-<p>Out on the sidewalk Tom Pollock paused and
-thrust his hands into his pockets. It was the noon
-hour and Main Street was quite a busy scene. Almost
-directly across the wide thoroughfare the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
-white enamelled signs of a lunch room gleamed
-appealingly. Tom looked speculatively at the next
-store on his route, which was a tiny shoe shop with
-one diminutive window filled with cheap footwear.
-It didn’t promise much, he thought. Then a hand
-went into a pocket and he pulled out a crumpled
-dollar bill and some silver. He frowned as he
-hastily calculated the sum of it, selected two ten-cent
-pieces, and returned the rest to the pocket.
-With the two coins in the palm of his hand he
-crossed the street to the lunch room and found a
-seat. The back of the room held counters with
-stools in front of them that folded out of the way
-when not in use, but near the entrance two lines
-of chairs stood against the walls. The right arm
-of each chair was widened into a sort of shelf
-large enough to hold a plate and a cup and saucer.
-Above the rows of chairs the neat white walls were
-inscribed with lists of viands and their prices.
-Tom sank into his chair with a sigh, stretched out
-his tired feet, and studied the menu across the
-room. There was no hurry, for he had three-quarters
-of an hour before he would return to
-Cummings and Wright’s to learn the verdict. The
-chair Tom had taken had been the only empty one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
-at the moment, for the lunch room was popular
-and well patronised and the time was the busiest
-period of the day. At his right a rather small,
-neatly dressed gentleman with black whiskers and
-a nervous manner was simultaneously draining
-the last drop in his milk glass and glancing at a
-gold watch which he had pulled from his pocket
-in a fidgety way. Tom had decided to have a
-plate of beef stew, price ten cents, a piece of apple
-pie, price five cents, and a glass of milk, price the
-same, when the nervous gentleman arose hurriedly
-and in passing tripped against one of Tom’s
-extended feet.</p>
-
-<p>“Excuse me,” said Tom. The man gave him
-an irritated glance, muttered something ungracious,
-and made for the door. Tom’s gaze turned
-idly toward the chair beside him which the man
-had just vacated and fell on a small leather coin-purse.
-Evidently the gentleman had failed to
-return it to his trousers pocket or it had fallen
-out afterward. Tom seized it and jumped up.
-Fortunately he found when he reached the door
-that the loser, in spite of his apparent hurry, had
-paused on the curb. Tom touched him on the
-arm.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“I guess this is yours, ain’t it?” he asked.
-“It was in your chair.”</p>
-
-<p>“Eh? Yes, of course it is. Must have dropped
-out of my pocket.” He seemed quite put out about
-it and scowled at the purse before he put it away.
-“Most annoying.” He shot a fleeting glance at
-the boy. “Much obliged to you; very kind.”
-Then he plunged off the sidewalk, dodged a dray,
-and narrowly escaped the fender of a trolley car.
-Tom smiled as he returned to the lunch room.</p>
-
-<p>“Bet you,” he reflected, “he’s one of the sort
-that’s always in a hurry and never gets anywhere!”</p>
-
-<p>His absence, as short as it had been, had lost
-him his seat, and he was obliged to penetrate to
-the rear of the room and perch himself on a stool
-in front of one of the long counters. There, however,
-he feasted royally on beef stew, bread and
-butter, pie and milk, and managed to consume a
-full half-hour doing it. To be sure, he was still
-hungry when he had finished the last crumb, for
-he had had nothing since breakfast at seven
-o’clock and it was now well after one, and he had
-been on the go all the morning. But he felt a
-heap better and a lot more hopeful, and as he left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
-the lunch room he was ready to believe his search
-for employment ended, that Mr. Cummings’s reply
-would be favourable. A contented stomach
-is a great incentive to cheerful thoughts.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a><br />
-<small>AND FINDS IT</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>The clock in a nearby steeple showed Tom that
-there still remained nearly ten minutes of waiting,
-and so he joined the northward-bound throng
-and idled along the street, pausing now and then
-to examine the contents of a store window. A
-jeweller’s display held him for several minutes.
-He wondered whether he would ever be rich
-enough to possess one of the handsome gold
-watches so temptingly displayed on black velvet.</p>
-
-<p>“They ain’t—aren’t—any thicker’n a buckwheat
-cake,” marvelled Tom. “Don’t seem as
-if there was room inside them for the wheels and
-things!” Just then he caught sight of himself
-in a mirror, took off his straw hat, and smoothed
-down a rebellious lock of red-brown hair. Then
-he replaced his hat, studied the result in the mirror,
-and nodded approvingly. A lady at the other
-side of the window smiled at the pantomime, and
-then, catching Tom’s glance in the mirror, smiled
-at Tom. Tom flushed and hurried away.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Guess she thought I was a fool,” he muttered.
-“Standing there and primping like a girl!”</p>
-
-<p>The lady followed his flight with kindly amusement,
-realising sympathetically his embarrassment.
-And as she went on she wondered about
-him a little. The reddish-brown hair and the clear,
-honest blue eyes had been attractive, and, although
-the tanned and much-freckled face could not have
-been called handsome, yet there was something
-about it, perhaps the expression of boyish confidence
-and candour, that lingered in her memory.
-Neatly, if inexpensively dressed, his attire had
-told her that he was not an Amesville boy, while
-a lack of awkwardness, a general air of self-dependence,
-seemed to preclude the idea of his
-being from the country. The problem lasted her
-only for a short distance and then Tom and the
-ingenuous incident at the window passed from
-her mind. But she and Tom were destined to
-meet again, although neither suspected it.</p>
-
-<p>It was exactly half-past one when Tom entered
-the hardware store once more. On the occasion
-of his first visit the store had been empty of customers,
-but now at least half a dozen persons were
-there, and Mr. Cummings was busy. Tom found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
-a position out of the way and waited. Besides
-Mr. Cummings, there were two others behind the
-counters—a tall youth who, as he passed with a
-customer in tow, looked curiously at the boy, and
-a small man with dark whiskers who, at his present
-distance, had a strong likeness to the gentleman
-who had left his purse in the lunch room. It
-was several minutes before Mr. Cummings was at
-leisure, but finally, dropping the change into the
-glove of a lady who had purchased a tack hammer
-and three papers of upholstery tacks, he beckoned
-Tom to the counter.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” he said, “I spoke to Mr. Wright about
-you, son, but he didn’t think we’d better hire anyone
-just yet. Maybe a month or so later, if you
-still want a job, we can take you on. Sorry I
-can’t do anything now.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom’s face fell. He had been so certain since
-lunch that his troubles were over that the disappointment
-was deeper than it should have been.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m sorry too, sir,” he said after a moment.
-“Well, I guess I’ll go on. I—I’m much obliged
-to you. You don’t happen to know of anyone who
-wants a boy, do you?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I don’t believe I do,” returned Mr. Cummings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
-kindly. He kept step with Tom for a way
-as the latter moved toward the door. “You might
-try Miller and Tappen’s, though. That’s the dry-goods
-store up the street. They take new help on
-pretty often, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve been there,” said Tom. “They
-said——”</p>
-
-<p>“Joe, where have those three-inch brass hooks
-got to?” asked an impatient voice from the front
-of the store. “Funny we can’t keep anything in
-place here!”</p>
-
-<p>“Ought to be right in front of you,” replied
-Mr. Cummings in patient tones. “Second shelf,
-Horace. No, <em>second</em>, I said. There! Got ’em?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” replied the dark-whiskered man irritably.
-“I’ve got them at last!”</p>
-
-<p>It <em>was</em> the gentleman of the coin-purse. Tom
-recognised him as he went past. The junior partner
-was displaying the three-inch hooks to a man
-in overalls and glanced up in his quick, nervous
-manner at the boy. Then he looked again, and:</p>
-
-<p>“Who’s that?” he asked sharply of Mr. Cummings.</p>
-
-<p>“The boy I spoke to you about. Wants a job.”</p>
-
-<p>“Call him back!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Tom was just at the doorway when Mr. Cummings’s
-summons fell on his ear. He turned and
-retraced his steps. Mr. Cummings beckoned him
-to the counter where he had joined his partner.
-It was Mr. Wright who spoke, eying Tom searchingly.</p>
-
-<p>“Aren’t you the boy who found my purse in
-the restaurant?” he demanded, almost fiercely.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mm.” Mr. Wright poked a finger through
-the scattered hooks on the counter. “You wait
-a minute.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom drew aside. A glance at Mr. Cummings’s
-face showed him that the senior partner was quite
-as much in the dark as he was as to Mr. Wright’s
-conduct. But a minute later the customer in overalls
-went off with his hooks, and Mr. Wright, after
-returning the rest of them to a box and, as Tom
-saw with amusement, tossing it carelessly back to
-the wrong shelf, came from behind the counter.</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Cummings says you want employment,”
-he said questioningly. “What can you do?”</p>
-
-<p>“Anything, sir. I ain’t afraid of work.”</p>
-
-<p>“Going to school, are you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir. I start Monday at high school.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Do you know how to use a broom?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Wright drew his fingers nervously through
-his black whiskers. “Do, eh? That’s more than
-anybody else does around here.” Evidently that
-was intended as a hit at the tall clerk who had
-drawn near. But the clerk only grinned.
-“Well——” Mr. Wright turned to his partner.
-“Take him on if you want to,” he said. “He’s
-honest, anyway. That’s something. You talk to
-him.”</p>
-
-<p>He hurried away to the front of the store. Mr.
-Cummings, with a smile and a quizzical shrug of
-his shoulders, beckoned Tom to the railed-off office
-at the rear of the store. There he told Tom
-to sit down.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s this about a purse?” he inquired.</p>
-
-<p>Tom told of the incident. Mr. Cummings
-seemed unduly impressed by it. “Now that was
-funny, wasn’t it? A regular coincidence, eh?
-Blessed if it don’t look to me as if luck had fixed
-everything up for you, son. Well, now I’ll tell
-you what we’re willing to do and you can say
-whether you want to do it. Your uncle owes this
-firm sixty-four dollars and a half. We’ll call it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
-an even sixty. Now, we’ll take you on here to
-work at two and a half a week. Two of that goes
-to you and fifty cents of it comes to us until we’ve
-squared ourselves for that sixty dollars. That
-satisfactory to you?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom considered a moment. Then, “Yes, sir,
-I think so,” he replied a little doubtfully.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, if I were you, I’d talk to my uncle; tell
-him our offer and see if he wouldn’t be willing to
-make up the half-dollar to you. You’re paying
-his bill, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe he would.” But there was little conviction
-in Tom’s tone. “Anyway, if he didn’t, it
-wouldn’t matter, I guess. It would be all right if
-I could find a room for two dollars. I looked at
-one this morning, but the lady wanted two dollars
-and a half for it. Maybe I could find another,
-though.”</p>
-
-<p>“I think you ought to,” said Mr. Cummings.
-“Try around Locust Street, near the depot.
-Well, there’s our offer, son, anyway. If you want
-to, you can have a talk with your uncle before
-you decide.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, thanks, I’ll—I’ll come, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right. If you get on and learn the business,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
-after a while we’ll give you more money.
-Mind you, though, you’ll have to show up here at
-seven-thirty, open up the store, and sweep and
-dust. And we’ll expect you back after school to
-stay until we close at six. On Saturdays we stay
-open until nine. And just before Christmas we
-keep open every evening. Let’s see; you said you
-wanted to get off early Saturday evenings, didn’t
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>“I thought I’d like to spend Sundays at home,
-sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“That would be all right usually, I guess.
-Around Christmas time we might want you to stay
-late on Saturdays, but other times I guess you
-could get off by eight or whenever your train goes.
-When do you want to start?”</p>
-
-<p>“I was thinking I’d start Monday afternoon,
-sir. I’m going home to-day and coming back
-Monday morning, in time for school. Would that
-be all right?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, that’ll do. To-day’s Thursday, isn’t it?
-All right, son. We’ll look for you Monday afternoon.
-You do your work right and I
-guess you’ll find us easy to get along with.” Mr.
-Cummings hesitated. “I might as well tell you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
-though, that—er—my partner is a little quick-tempered
-at times. It’s just his way. He’s terribly
-nervous. After you get used to him, you won’t
-mind it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s all then, I guess. By the way, what
-did you tell me your name was?”</p>
-
-<p>“Thomas Pollock, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Miller, just make a note of this, please.
-Thomas Pollock enters our employ Monday.
-Wages, two and a half a week. Enter him on the
-pay-roll. Thank you. By the way, son, you’d better
-have a pair of overalls here to slip on. There’ll
-be dirty jobs, I guess, and there’s no use spoiling
-your clothes. Good day.”</p>
-
-<p>It was not yet two o’clock when Tom passed out
-of Cummings and Wright’s and his train did not
-leave until after four. That gave him a good two
-hours in which to seek a room within the limit
-of the two dollars which he was to actually receive.
-He had scant expectation of being able to persuade
-Uncle Israel to make good that fifty cents a week
-to him. Israel Bowles was considered a hard man
-around Derry, and, it seemed, his reputation had
-even spread to the city. Tom didn’t for a moment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
-doubt that Uncle Israel really did honestly
-owe that sixty-odd dollars to the hardware house.
-Uncle Israel, however, probably had what seemed
-to him a perfectly legitimate reason for not paying
-it. And, as the indebtedness had remained
-for six years, Tom didn’t believe that Uncle Israel
-would agree to paying it off through him. Still,
-it would do no harm to ask, he told himself as he
-set off down Main Street.</p>
-
-<p>Tom’s mother had died when he was a baby,
-and his father when he was nine years old. They
-had lived in Plaistow, a small Ohio town about a
-hundred miles from Derry. Before Tom, who
-was the only child, had been born his parents had
-had several homes, as he had learned from Uncle
-Israel. Uncle Israel called Tom’s father a
-“ne’er-do-well” and a “gallivanter.” Tom for
-a long time didn’t know what a “gallivanter”
-was, but he always resented the term as applied
-to his father. His parents, like Uncle Israel, who
-was his mother’s brother, had come originally
-from New Hampshire. When Tom’s father died,
-leaving little in the way of earthly goods, Uncle
-Israel had promptly claimed the boy and taken
-him to Derry. On the whole, Uncle Israel had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
-been kind to Tom. The lad had had to work hard
-during the six years on the farm, had had to rise
-early and, often enough, go late to bed, since his
-schooling had been more or less intermittent,
-and it had been only by studying in the evenings
-that he had been able to keep up with his class in
-the little country schoolhouse. Tom couldn’t
-doubt that Uncle Israel was fond of him, even if
-displays of affection had been few. And Tom was
-honestly fond of Uncle Israel. He knew better
-than perhaps anyone else that, hard as his uncle
-seemed, there were some soft places, after all.
-But Tom didn’t deceive himself with false hopes
-about the fifty cents a week!</p>
-
-<p>Main Street crossed the railroad tracks between
-the station and the freight houses. Parallel to
-the railroad ran Locust Street, lined on one side
-with small stores and lodging-houses affected by
-railroad employés. It was not an attractive part
-of the town, and the smoke from the engines and
-the dust raised by the wagons and drays that
-passed on their way to the freight houses made
-the fronts of the cheap, unlovely buildings dingy
-and dirty. But Tom knew he had no right to expect
-a great deal for two dollars and so began<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
-his search philosophically. There were plenty of
-rooms for rent in those three blocks, but most
-of them, after his own neat and clean little bedroom
-at the farm, turned him away in disgust.
-But at length he found what seemed to answer his
-purpose. It was a back room in a lodging-house
-even smaller and meaner-looking than usual, but
-it was clean and, within its limits, attractive. And
-the price was better than he had dared hope for.
-He could have it, said the stout Irishwoman who
-pantingly conducted him up the flight of steep,
-uncarpeted stairs, for a dollar and seventy-five
-cents a week, payable in advance. From the one
-small window there was a not unattractive view
-of a diminutive back-yard, which held a prosperous-looking
-elm tree, and the rear of a livery
-stable which, being only one story in height, allowed
-him to look over its flat tar-and-gravel roof
-to the more distant roofs and spires and trees of
-Amesville. Tom took the room, paid down fifty
-cents as earnest money, and agreed to pay the balance
-Monday morning. His landlady’s name, as
-she told him on the way downstairs, was Cleary,
-and her husband worked in the roundhouse. She
-referred to him as a “hostler,” but Tom didn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
-see how a hostler could be employed about engines.
-He didn’t question her statement, however.
-She seemed a good-hearted, respectable
-woman. She had six other lodgers, she informed
-him, “all illigint tinants,” and proceeded to supply
-him with the life history of each. Two small
-children crept bashfully through the door of a
-back room and stared unblinkingly at Tom until
-their mother discovered their presence and sent
-them scurrying out of sight. “Me two youngest,”
-she explained proudly. “I’ve three more. One
-do be working for Miller and Tappen, drives a
-delivery cart, he does, and the next two do be in
-school. They’re good kiddies, the whole lot of
-’em.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom finally dragged himself away and crossed
-over to the station to kill time until his train left,
-on the whole very well satisfied with the results of
-his day’s industry.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a><br />
-<small>UNCLE ISRAEL SAYS “NO”</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Derry lay twenty-two miles to the west of Amesville
-and it required almost an hour for the branch
-line train to reach the little settlement. Tom descended
-from the car amidst the clatter of empty
-milk-cans being put off on the platform of the small
-station. Uncle Israel Bowles’s farm lay nearly a
-mile away, and Tom, whose feet were sore from the
-unaccustomed tramping of city pavements, looked
-about for a lift. But of the two buggies and one
-farm wagon in sight none was bound his way, and
-so he crossed to the dusty road that led northward
-and set out through the warm, still end of
-a September day. There was no hurry and so he
-went slowly, limping a little now and then, and
-thinking busily of the new life to begin on Monday.
-He wondered whether he would get on satisfactorily
-with Cummings and Wright, whether
-the lessons at high school would prove terribly
-hard, whether he would find any friends amongst
-the boys there. And finally, with an uneasy sensation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
-he wondered how long the small amount
-of money he had saved up during the past two
-years would last him in Amesville. What experience
-he had had of city prices for food alarmed
-him when he thought of satisfying that very
-healthy appetite of his! Well, he would just have
-to do the best he could, and if doing the best he
-could meant going hungry sometimes he’d go
-hungry! At all events, that money had to last him
-until next summer, when, either through some
-more advantageous arrangement with Cummings
-and Wright or by hiring himself again to one of
-the neighbouring farmers, he could once more
-put himself in funds. These reflections and resolves
-brought him in sight of the farm, and the
-next moment the joyful barking of Star, his collie
-dog, announced his advent. Star came leaping
-and bounding through the gate and down the road
-to meet him.</p>
-
-<p>“Hello, old chap!” said Tom, patting the
-dog’s head. “I guess I’m going to miss you
-more’n anything or anybody when I go away. I
-wish I could take you with me. I just do. But
-I guess you’d pretty near starve to death over
-there to Amesville. There wouldn’t be any buttermilk,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
-Star, and there wouldn’t be any corn-bread,
-either, I guess. Well, I’ll be back on Saturdays
-to see you, anyway. What you been doing all
-day? Did you miss me?”</p>
-
-<p>Star replied dog-fashion that he had missed his
-master very much, and, by licking his hand and
-doing his best to lick his face as well, accorded
-him a royal welcome home. Aunt Patty—she was
-no real relation, but Tom had always called her
-aunt—was setting the table for supper as he went
-in. She was a small, wrinkled little old woman,
-with a sharp tongue and a warm heart, and had
-kept house for Uncle Israel for nearly twenty
-years. She paused with a salt-cellar in each hand
-and viewed Tom and Star critically.</p>
-
-<p>“Back again, be you?” she asked in her sharp,
-thin voice. “An’ that pesky dog-critter’s back
-again, too, ain’t he? If I’ve put him out o’ here
-once to-day, I’ve put him out forty times! Gettin’
-the place all upsot an’ bringin’ in dirt! Well,
-what you find out this time?”</p>
-
-<p>“Lots, Aunt Patty,” answered Tom cheerfully.
-“Star, you lie down like a good dog or Aunt
-Patty won’t love you any more.”</p>
-
-<p>Aunt Patty sniffed. “Well, can’t you tell a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
-body anything?” she asked. “You got most as
-close a tongue as your uncle, you have!”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve got a job, Aunt Patty. Cummings and
-Wright, the hardware firm. Two and a half a
-week. How’s that?”</p>
-
-<p>“’Tain’t much for a big strong boy like you
-to earn, I’d say.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I can only be there before and after
-school. I think two and a half’s pretty good
-wages, considering. And I found a room for a
-dollar and seventy-five cents. So that leaves me
-a quarter to the good, you see.”</p>
-
-<p>“Leaves you seventy-five cents, don’t it?
-Where’s all your ’rithmetic?”</p>
-
-<p>“Ye-es, I meant seventy-five,” responded Tom
-slowly. “Where’s uncle?”</p>
-
-<p>“Round somewheres. Land sakes, don’t expect
-me to keep track of him, do you? Likely he’s in
-the cow-shed. John ain’t brought in the milk
-yet.”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess I’d ought to go out and help,” mused
-Tom. “Only if I do I’ll get this suit dirty,
-maybe.”</p>
-
-<p>“You keep away from the barn in them clothes,
-Tom Pollock. I guess there ain’t any more work<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
-than two able-bodied men can do. Supper’s most
-ready, anyhow. Ain’t you hungry?”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess so,” Tom answered uncertainly.
-“I’ll go up and wash my hands.”</p>
-
-<p>When Tom returned a few minutes later, Uncle
-Israel and John Green, the hired man, had come
-in, and Aunt Patty summoned them to supper.
-Uncle Israel folded his big, bony hands on the
-edge of the red cloth, bent his head, and said grace
-in his rumbling voice. Then he turned his sharp,
-cold-blue eyes on Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“What all’d you do to-day, Tom?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>Tom recounted the day’s adventures in detail,
-neglecting, however, to explain the terms of Cummings
-and Wright’s offer. Uncle Israel listened
-attentively, eating steadily all the time as though
-taking food was a duty he owed rather than a
-pleasure. He was a tall man just past fifty years
-of age—Tom already showed promise of being
-like him as far as height was concerned—with a
-large, strongly-built frame on which he carried
-little flesh. He was long of arm and leg and neck,
-and his face held two prominent features—the
-large straight nose and the deeply set eyes which
-had the frosty glitter of blue ice. His face, tanned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
-and weathered, was clean-shaven except at the
-chin, where a small tuft of grizzled beard wagged
-in time to the working of his strong jaws. The
-face was rather a handsome one, on the whole,
-handsome in a hard and rugged fashion that somehow
-reminded one of the granite hills of his native
-state. He said little during Tom’s recital,
-or afterward. A grunt or a brusque question
-now and then was about the sum of his contribution
-to conversation.</p>
-
-<p>After supper, when Aunt Patty was rattling
-the pans and dishes at the kitchen sink and John
-Green had gone out to the steps to smoke his
-pipe, Tom took his courage in hand and told his
-uncle about the arrangement to which he had
-agreed with Mr. Cummings. Uncle Israel heard
-him through in silence, frowning the while. “And
-so,” concluded Tom, “I thought maybe you’d be
-willing to make up the fifty cents to me, sir.
-Would you?”</p>
-
-<p>“No.”</p>
-
-<p>“You mean you don’t want I should pay the
-bill to them that way?”</p>
-
-<p>“You tell Cummings that that pump’s here
-and he can come and get it any time he wants to.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
-I told him that ’most six years ago, I guess. It
-wan’t no good. It broke down the second time I
-hitched it up to the mill. I told him then I didn’t
-intend to pay good money for it. He said I was
-to bring it in and he’d take it up with the factory.
-I said: ‘You come and fetch it. I’ve lugged
-it one way. Now it’s your turn.’ If you hand him
-over fifty cents a week out of your wages, that’s
-your affair. It’s got nothing to do with me.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom considered awhile. Finally, “Where is
-that pump, Uncle?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Under the barn. Or it was last time I seen
-it. Maybe it’s rusted to pieces by now. I don’t
-know, nor I don’t care.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, sir, if I don’t do like he says, he won’t
-take me to work. And it seems to me it’s better
-to get two dollars than nothing. Course I might
-find a job somewhere else, but”—and Tom sighed—“I
-went to ’most fifty places, I guess. Is—is
-the pump worth anything at all, sir?”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Bowles shrugged his shoulders. “Might be
-worth a few dollars for old iron.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then if I pay for it may I have it?”</p>
-
-<p>“What for?”</p>
-
-<p>“Just to see if I can sell it and make some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
-money on it. I guess I’ve got to pay for it, sir,
-and if you don’t want it——”</p>
-
-<p>“It ain’t mine to give,” said his uncle. “If
-Cummings wants to sell it to you, all right. You
-can tell him from me, though, that there’s a little
-matter of six dollars due me for storing it all
-this time.” And Uncle Israel’s eyes twinkled and
-the corners of his mouth moved with the nearest
-thing to a smile that he was ever guilty of.</p>
-
-<p>“Then I’d have to pay that, too, before I could
-have it?” asked Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“You tell him that,” responded Uncle Israel.
-Then he took up a newspaper, settled his spectacles
-on the bridge of his big nose, and edged his
-chair to the light. The subject was closed. Tom
-recognised the fact and, stifling a sigh, found his
-Latin book and took himself off to study. Monday
-loomed up startlingly near.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a><br />
-<small>AT CUMMINGS AND WRIGHT’S</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Amesville was a city of some twenty-five thousand
-population, and on a certain Monday in late
-September of the year 1911 it increased its population,
-to our certain knowledge, by one. That
-one was Mr. Thomas Pollock, who stepped off the
-milk train at a quarter-past six and staggered
-across the dust-strewn road to Mrs. Cleary’s lodging-house,
-burdened with a valise whose bulging
-sides would certainly have strained the lock to the
-breaking point without the straps that encircled
-them. He spent the better part of an hour in unpacking
-and distributing his possessions. He was
-not over-supplied with clothes, which, in view of
-the scanty accommodations provided for such
-things, was fortunate; but it nevertheless took him
-quite a while to arrange the contents of the big
-valise to his satisfaction. There was a small table
-in one corner of the room and a bureau near the
-window. A washstand, a single iron bed, and a
-straight-backed chair completed the furnishings,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
-if we except a very thin and gaudy carpet which
-tried but failed to quite cover the uneven floor.
-Tom stowed his clothes neatly in the bureau drawers—there
-was no closet, but a board holding four
-hooks was nailed to the inner side of the door—put
-his extra pair of shoes under the table, and
-arranged a few treasures on table and bureau.
-These included a faded photograph of his father—he
-had never had one of his mother,—one of
-Aunt Patty taken at the State Fair some ten years
-ago, and one of Star. Star’s likeness had been
-made by a travelling photographer to whom Tom
-had paid the sum of fifty cents. But it was a good
-picture and worth the money. If only Star had
-kept his tail still no possible fault could have
-been found with it. The treasures also included a
-pair of skates, an old-fashioned travelling portfolio
-which had belonged to his father and which
-held an ink-well and compartments for paper, envelopes,
-pens, holders, stamps, and a blotter.
-Tom was very fond of that portfolio and dreamed
-of some day making a real journey and pictured
-himself sitting in a Pullman car or on the deck of
-a steamer with it on his knee writing long letters
-to Uncle Israel and Aunt Patty. Not to Star,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
-of course, for Star would be right there with him!
-There were other things, too; a much battered
-baseball which showed the imprints of a dog’s
-teeth, a coloured picture showing the landing of
-Columbus, a sweet-grass basket, the Christmas
-gift of Aunt Patty, holding several disfigured pennies,
-a postage stamp lacking mucilage, some buttons,
-a stone arrow-head which Tom had himself
-unearthed on the farm, and a soiled piece of slippery-elm.
-There was also a little shiny red-lacquered
-box with a spray of bamboo in gilt on
-the cover which held Tom’s jewelry. This box,
-however, had been safely stowed under a pile of
-underwear in the second bureau drawer and contained
-a tiny plain gold ring which was supposed
-to have been his mother’s wedding ring, although
-Tom had absolutely no proof of that, a pair of
-silver cuff-links, a silver scarf-pin set with
-an imitation ruby, and three gold-plated shirt
-studs.</p>
-
-<p>At half-past seven Tom locked his room door,
-dropped the key proudly in his pocket, and went
-in search of breakfast. Aunt Patty had provided
-him with coffee and doughnuts at twenty minutes
-to five that morning, but he felt the need of something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
-more lasting. It was not hard to find an
-eating place, for there were three small and rather
-dirty restaurants on his own street. In the hope
-of finding cheap prices he invaded one of them
-and ordered corned-beef hash, a boiled egg, and a
-glass of milk. The price was not exorbitant, but
-the hash was greasy and tasteless, the egg was far
-from fresh, and the milk was a base libel on that
-noble animal, the cow! But the viands served and
-Tom consoled himself with the thought that he
-had paid ten cents less than a similar repast would
-have cost him on Main Street. There remained a
-whole half-hour before school began and he set
-out to see the town. Thus far he had discovered
-only the business portion of it. Now he turned
-his steps toward the residential streets and loitered
-along past prosperous-looking houses which,
-to Tom at least, might well have been the abodes
-of so many multi-millionaires. Later, when he
-chanced upon the abodes of the city’s really
-wealthy residents, he discovered his mistake. But
-now he mentally peopled the houses with Vanderbilts
-and Goulds and Rockefellers and unenviously
-admired the smooth green lawns and vivid
-flower borders and resplendent doorways and felt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
-very grateful that he was to live in a place where
-there were so many beautiful things.</p>
-
-<p>Then, at last, the high-school building loomed
-up ahead, set squarely in its open plot of lawn
-and gravelled walks, a handsome great structure
-of mottled brick and sandstone trimmings. Already
-the boys’ entrance was well sprinkled with
-youths, while more were approaching the building
-from all directions. Tom, feeling a little shy,
-edged his way up the broad steps and into the
-building. But none of the others took special notice
-of him and he reached the Principal’s office
-and joined a line already waiting. The big hallway
-with its plaster statuary and tiled floor was
-quite impressive as, also, were the classrooms
-which he glimpsed. He couldn’t help comparing
-it all with the little one-room frame schoolhouse
-at Derry! And he was more than a little anxious
-and nervous as he awaited his turn.</p>
-
-<p>But many things are far worse in anticipation
-than in realisation, and Tom’s first day at high
-school passed smoothly and without misadventure.
-He was assigned to a room and a desk, given a
-list of books and supplies to provide himself with,
-marched with many others up two flights of broad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
-stairs and went through a calisthenic drill, studied
-awhile, and was finally released for the day, there
-being but the one session.</p>
-
-<p>With a light heart he set out for a stationery
-store and purchased tablets, blank-books, pencils,
-erasers, and all the other articles required. The
-school books he could rent, which meant a big
-saving to his pocket. He dined well, if inexpensively,
-and at two o’clock made his way to
-Cummings and Wright’s. Neither of the partners
-was in, and it fell to the lot of Mr. Joseph Gillig
-to receive him. Joe Gillig was the single clerk
-in the employ; Miss Miller, who lived behind a
-glass partition, was a cashier and bookkeeper,
-which, as Tom learned later, is quite different
-from being a clerk. Joe was about twenty years
-of age, tall, thin, with a long neck in which his
-Adam’s apple did marvellous things as he talked.
-Joe had a good-natured, homely countenance
-lighted by a pair of nice, if somewhat sleepy,
-brown eyes and marred by an incipient moustache
-which, to Joe’s distress, was coming out
-red.</p>
-
-<p>“They didn’t look for you till four,” he said
-in greeting. “They’re both out now. Want to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
-look over the place? What you got in the
-bundle?”</p>
-
-<p>“Overalls,” replied Tom. “Mr. Cummings
-said I’d better bring a pair.”</p>
-
-<p>“Right-o! Wait till I wait on that guy and I’ll
-show you over the shop.”</p>
-
-<p>The “guy” was hard to suit in the matter
-of a rip-saw and Tom had several minutes to wait.
-The hardware store was rather narrow, but made
-up for that by being interminably deep. Counters
-ran along each side, set here and there with showcases.
-A row of supporting pillars of iron
-stretched lengthwise of the store in the middle and
-about them were clustered such articles of trade
-as wheelbarrows, garden hose, fire extinguishers,
-and step-ladders, for Cummings and Wright
-didn’t confine themselves to the ordinary stock of
-hardware. At the rear of the store a door led
-to an alley, and there was a window on each side
-of the doorway. The office was a railed-off enclosure
-in one corner here, while Miss Gertrude
-Miller was enshrined in a box-like structure of
-imitation mahogany and glass, into which the belts
-of the cash carriers ran and where she made
-change while presiding over the firm’s books.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
-Tom was duly presented to Miss Miller by Joe
-and rather shyly shook hands with her. She had
-a good deal of red-brown hair and a pair of soft
-grey eyes and was undeniably pretty, a fact which
-added to Tom’s embarrassment, since pretty
-young ladies were things he had had little to do
-with. He was glad when Joe, explaining everything
-as he went along, led the way down the flight
-of dark stairs on the other side and landed him
-in a cellar which occupied the entire space under
-the store. Here there was a packing room at the
-rear, coal bins, and a heater whose future conduct,
-Tom gathered, would be under his supervision.
-The rest of the cellar held stock too heavy or bulky
-to keep above, except that at the far end, partly
-under the sidewalk, a good-sized room was partitioned
-off. Here Cummings and Wright conducted
-a plumbing, steam-fitting, and tinsmithing
-business. There was a separate entrance from
-outside, by means of a flight of iron steps, and the
-department was presided over by a small, wiry
-man named Jim Hobb. He had very black hair
-and the palest blue eyes Tom had ever seen.
-When Joe introduced them, Jim stopped to wipe
-his hands carefully on a bunch of very dirty waste<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
-before offering it to Tom. There was another
-man down there and a grinning youth of about
-Tom’s age, whose face was streaked and plastered
-with dirt and grease. His name was Petey. Tom
-never heard the rest of it. And the other man’s
-name was Connors.</p>
-
-<p>A bell in the stock room rang shrilly and Joe
-Gillig hurried back upstairs, explaining to Tom
-that the signal meant that a customer had come in.
-In this case, however, Joe was mistaken, for it
-was Mr. Wright who had summoned him.</p>
-
-<p>“Why aren’t you up here attending to
-things?” he demanded of Joe. “Anyone might
-come in and walk off with half the stock for all
-you’d ever know!” Then, seeing Tom, he stared
-doubtfully a moment and finally grunted as recognition
-came. “So you’ve turned up, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“What’s your name?”</p>
-
-<p>“Tom Pollock, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Colic?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, Pollock.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, what are you doing?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing yet, sir. I just got here and Mister—he
-was showing me around.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Better get to work then. Can’t afford to pay
-wages to idlers.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir. What shall I do?”</p>
-
-<p>“Do? Do?” Mr. Wright got quite peevish at
-the question. “Do anything! Find something
-to do! That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?
-Seems to me there’s plenty to do here. You don’t
-see me standing around <em>looking</em> for work, do
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom looked doubtfully at Joe. Joe gravely
-winked across a counter. Mr. Wright, fuming to
-himself, hurried back to the office.</p>
-
-<p>“What shall I do?” asked Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, just get behind a counter and make believe
-you’re busy. He never knows the difference.
-Tell you what, though, Tom. You might
-take the stuff out of the tool case down there and
-clean it out. You’ll find dust-brush and cloths
-downstairs behind the packing-room door. Be
-careful not to get things mixed up. Better lay
-everything on top of the case. I’ll show you when
-you come up.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Cummings entered while Tom was emptying
-the showcase and stopped to shake hands with
-him. “Got you at work, have they?” he asked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
-“That’s right. Those cases need cleaning.”
-Presently, having conversed for a few moments
-with his partner, he was back again. “Did you
-speak to your uncle, son?” he inquired.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir. He—he wasn’t willing to have me
-pay his bill like that. But of course I’m going
-to do it. He says that pump isn’t his; says it
-belongs to you and that you owe him for storing
-it.”</p>
-
-<p>“What!” Mr. Cummings stared and then
-burst into a laugh. “Well, of all the tight-fisted
-old rascals! Suppose I oughtn’t to say that before
-you, though,” he added apologetically. Tom
-maintained a composed silence. “Wants me to
-pay him storage, does he? By George, he certainly
-has plenty of cheek!”</p>
-
-<p>“He says he lugged the pump out there, and
-it’s your place to bring it back, sir. He says he
-notified you about it when he found it wouldn’t
-work right.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe he did,” responded Mr. Cummings
-grimly. “But we’ve got more to do than run
-around the country after broken machinery.”</p>
-
-<p><a href="#image02">“I was wondering, sir,” said Tom, “if after
-I’ve paid that bill I couldn’t have the pump.”</a></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 402px;">
-<a id="image02">
- <img src="images/image02.jpg" width="402" height="600" alt="" title="" />
-</a><br />
-<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_45">“I was wondering, sir,” said Tom, “if after I’ve paid
-that bill I couldn’t have the pump”</a></div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, that’s for your uncle to say, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“He says it belongs to you, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“I see. Well, when that bill’s paid, son, we’ll
-give you a clear title to the pump as far as we’re
-concerned. What did you think of doing with
-it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Just—just trying to sell it, sir. It ought to
-be worth something as junk, I should think.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hm, I suppose so. You might be able to sell
-it for twenty dollars or so if it isn’t badly out of
-shape. Where’s he keeping it?”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s under the barn. I had a look at it yesterday.
-It seems all right. I mean it isn’t rusted
-none. It’s all covered up.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did your uncle say what the matter with it
-was?”</p>
-
-<p>“N-no, sir. He said it wouldn’t work.”</p>
-
-<p>“Probably didn’t know how to use it. I dare
-say it could be fixed up in a jiffy. If you get it
-and want to sell it, you let me know. Maybe I
-can find someone to take it off your hands. Better
-put a couple of those expansion bits back on
-the shelf. No use showing more than one of
-them.”</p>
-
-<p>The store was closed at six and Tom, slipping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
-off his blue overalls, went in search of supper.
-Afterward he sought his room and sat up until
-half-past nine studying his lessons for the morrow.
-When at last he piled into bed, he lay for
-some time very wide-awake with the unaccustomed
-screech and rush of passing trains and the
-dim hum of the city in his ears. Through the open
-window, behind the branches of the elm and above
-the distant house-tops, a half-moon was sailing.
-Tom, a trifle lonesome, wondered if Uncle Israel
-and Aunt Patty were missing him a little. He
-knew Star was. He wished he had Star with him
-here. He wished——</p>
-
-<p>Whatever else he wished was in dreams.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a><br />
-<small>TOM LOOKS AT HIS HAIR</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>By the end of the week Tom had settled down
-into his new life. In the mornings he was up at
-half-past six and by seven-thirty had dressed,
-breakfasted, and reached the store. There, at
-first under the superintendence of Joe Gillig and
-later quite by himself, he swept the store from
-front to back, dusted off cases and shelves, and
-emptied waste-baskets. At first Joe helped him,
-but gradually he was left to attend to this work
-alone. By hurrying he was just able to finish it
-by twenty-five minutes past eight. Then he raced
-across the three blocks to the high school and
-arrived there usually as the gong rang. At half-past
-twelve there was a half-hour recess for lunch.
-The second day at school Tom discovered that
-there was a lunch room in the basement and that
-he could buy hot soup, sandwiches, coffee, milk,
-cake, and fruit at much cheaper prices than at the
-outside restaurants. After a day or two he got
-into the habit of eating a rather hearty breakfast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
-in the cleanest of the little restaurants on Locust
-Street, satisfying his appetite at noon with a bowl
-of soup, a sandwich, and a glass of milk, and then
-dining after the store had closed. At three o’clock
-school was over and he was free to return to the
-store.</p>
-
-<p>There was always plenty to do there, as Mr.
-Wright had intimated, and after that first day
-Tom didn’t have to hunt very hard for work. He
-washed windows, ran errands, packed orders in
-big cases down in the packing room, and learned
-to use marking-pot and brush with some dexterity,
-replaced goods on the shelves after Mr. Wright
-had served a customer—for the junior partner
-never was known to put goods back into place
-again,—polished the brass railings outside the
-windows and the brass on the door, and, in short,
-made himself generally useful. Perhaps Joe Gillig
-imposed on him a little; Tom suspected as
-much; but Joe was always kind and patient with
-him and Tom liked him. Later, when the weather
-grew cold, Tom was put in charge of the hot-water
-heater in the basement, and he had to shovel
-coal and ashes and sift out cinders and trundle
-ash-barrels to the elevator and roll them to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
-edge of the sidewalk above. It was heavy work,
-a whole lot of it, and if Tom had not been used
-to heavy work he could hardly have got through
-with it. As it was, however, the only effect it
-had on him was to harden and develop his muscles
-and increase a naturally healthy appetite.</p>
-
-<p>It was that appetite that worried Tom more
-than anything those days. The second week in
-Amesville he conceived the idea of keeping account
-of his expenditures, and the result was disheartening.
-The best he could do was sixty-five
-cents a day, and that came to nearly four dollars
-a week. Add to that his fare to and from Derry
-and the total reached to almost five dollars a
-week! Tom’s heart sank. At such a rate the
-money he had saved would be gone some time in
-February! For several days after that he nearly
-starved himself trying to economise and got so
-thin and peaked-looking that even Mr. Cummings
-noticed it.</p>
-
-<p>It was Mrs. Cleary who finally solved his problem
-after a fashion. There was a friend of hers,
-she informed him one evening, a Mrs. Burns and
-a fine lady entirely, who had started to take table
-boarders in the next street. Mrs. Cleary thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
-maybe Tom would like to test Mrs. Burns’s hospitality.
-Tom went around there the next morning
-and arranged for breakfasts and suppers. In
-view of the fact that he would be away on Sundays,
-Mrs. Burns bargained to take him for two
-dollars and a half a week. As his lunches at
-school seldom cost him more than fifteen cents—and
-sometimes only ten—he stood to save at least
-fifty cents weekly by this arrangement. And Mrs.
-Burns set a very good table, as it proved. There
-were no dainties, but whatever she put before her
-boarders was substantial and well-cooked. Her
-guests were mostly workers around the railroad,
-men with big, honest appetites and table manners
-that at first shocked Tom a good deal. After he
-got to know several of the men rather well, he was
-quite willing to forgive them their lack of niceties.</p>
-
-<p>Every Saturday evening Tom returned to
-Derry. Usually either Uncle Israel or John Green
-drove to the station and met him. Then there
-was a supper that more than made up for any
-lack during the week. Aunt Patty made a special
-occasion of that weekly home-coming and cooked
-the things Tom best liked. Uncle Israel always
-greeted him as if they had parted at dinner time,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
-but during the evening he always had to hear what
-had happened during the week.</p>
-
-<p>However, if Uncle Israel’s welcome seemed
-lacking in warmth, there was no fault to be found
-with Star’s, unless it was the fault of over-enthusiasm.
-Poor Star was having lonely times
-those days. John Green, himself a rather lonely,
-taciturn man, confided to Tom on his second visit
-home that it just made his heart ache to see how
-that there Star dog moped aroun’! Well, those
-end-of-the-week visits to the farm were pretty fine,
-and during the first month at least saved Tom
-from many a fit of discouragement and homesickness.
-After a month they became less imperative,
-for by that time he had made friends and, although
-he had but little time in which to cultivate them,
-the knowledge of them helped a good deal. He
-was rather surprised, in fact, to discover how
-many persons he knew in Amesville by the time
-October had reached its end. There was Joe Gillig,
-of course, who, in consideration of the disparity
-in the ages of the two boys, was quite
-chummy with Tom and had twice taken him to
-supper at the little cottage in Stuart’s Addition,
-where Joe lived with an invalid mother and an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
-unmarried sister some five years his senior. They
-were very nice folks, Tom thought, and the only
-thing that marred the occasions of his visits was
-the overbearing and almost rude attitude of Joe
-toward the women. Tom, though, understood
-dimly that Joe really intended neither discourtesy
-nor unkindness; that having been the head of the
-little establishment for ten years or so was responsible
-for the rather harsh authority he assumed.
-And then, too, both Mrs. Gillig and Mary
-did their utmost to spoil Joe, accepting his dictates
-with meek admiration.</p>
-
-<p>And then there was Mrs. Cleary, his landlady,
-who mothered him in her good-hearted Irish way,
-and Dan, her husband, a big, raw-boned man with
-a voice like a fog-horn and a laugh like a young
-tornado. Frequently when Tom came home after
-supper he stopped downstairs and visited for a
-little while with the Clearys. The eldest son, who
-drove a delivery wagon for Miller and Tappen,
-was seldom there, but he made friends with the
-other children and listened to Dan Cleary’s stories
-of happenings in the railroad yard and roundhouse.
-It was a little bit like home, and when he
-went on upstairs to his own tiny room he felt less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
-lonesome. Then, too, he made the acquaintance of
-two or three of the boarders at Mrs. Burns’s—rough,
-hard-working men with unlovely ways and
-kind hearts. It was about this time that Tom
-made a discovery that helped him a good deal in
-later years, which was that folks are very much
-alike under the skin whether they ride in carriages
-or drive spikes into railway ties.</p>
-
-<p>At school Tom knew a dozen boys well enough
-to speak to, but the fact that he had no time to
-join them in their after-school or holiday pursuits
-and pleasures kept him from forming any close
-friendships. When the others hurried away to the
-athletic field to play football or watch it, Tom
-plodded across to Cummings and Wright’s. But
-he followed closely and patriotically the fortunes
-of the Amesville High eleven, listened avidly to
-the chat of the fellows at school, and read the accounts
-of the contests with rival teams in the
-morning paper. Never having seen a football
-game, Tom would have liked mighty well to go
-out and look on some afternoon, but the only
-glimpse of football he got was one day when he
-was despatched by street car to deliver a forgotten
-tool to Steve Connors, who was doing a job of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
-plumbing in a house on the north of town. The
-trolley car left him two blocks from his destination,
-and when he saw a crowd of boys in an open
-field and heard the shouting he correctly surmised
-that he had happened on the athletic field and the
-high school team in action. He delivered the
-tool to Connors and then, on his way back, joined
-the throng of boys and girls on the side lines and
-watched interestedly for as long as his conscience
-would let him. After ten minutes he tore himself
-reluctantly away, very much wishing himself a
-gentleman of leisure!</p>
-
-<p>And yet he did make a friend finally, and it happened
-in this way. After Tom had been with
-Cummings and Wright a month or so, he was permitted
-to wait on customers occasionally when
-the others were busy. Joe had initiated him into
-the mysteries of the cost marks and he had eventually
-got so that he could translate the puzzling
-letters that adorned every article into numerals
-and knew at a glance that, for instance “F O Z”
-meant that the article had cost $1.37 and that the
-following “G L Y” intimated that it was to be
-sold for $1.75. As time passed Tom became more
-and more a member of the selling force and speedily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
-reached a degree of efficiency that made it no
-longer necessary for him to consult Joe Gillig or
-one of the partners before disposing of goods.
-November had passed, Tom had eaten his Thanksgiving
-dinner at the farm, the high school football
-team had finished a not too glorious season,
-and now, in the first week of December, a hard
-freeze had come and at school the fellows were
-eagerly talking skating and hockey. One afternoon,
-just as it was getting dark in the store,
-Joe called to Tom, who was marking a case in
-the packing room.</p>
-
-<p>“Tom, come up and wait on a customer, will
-you?” shouted Joe down the stairway. Mr. Cummings,
-Mr. Wright, and Joe were all busy when
-Tom emerged from the basement, and Joe nodded
-toward the front of the store. “See what
-that lady wants, Tom,” he said. “And as you
-come by switch on the lights, will you?”</p>
-
-<p>The lady was standing by a showcase in which
-Joe had just finished arranging a display of
-skates. She was quietly dressed, but Tom knew
-that such clothes cost a deal of money. She smiled
-in a friendly way at the boy as he leaned inquiringly
-across the counter, copying Joe’s best manner,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
-and Tom decided then and there that she must
-be awfully nice and jolly. She had laid a big
-black muff on the case and now she moved it aside
-that she might see better what lay beneath. Then
-she raised her glance to Tom again as he asked,
-“Is there something I can show you, ma’am?”</p>
-
-<p>“I want a pair——” she began. Then her
-smile deepened and Tom thought afterward that
-she had even laughed a tiny bit. At all events, her
-subsequent remark was strangely at variance with
-her start, for, her eyes twinkling, she asked amazingly,
-“Does your hair still bother you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Ma’am!” ejaculated Tom, thinking he must
-have misunderstood.</p>
-
-<p>This time she really did laugh—a short, rippling
-little murmur of a laugh—as she answered:
-“I asked if your hair still bothered you. But it
-was rather an impertinent question, perhaps, so
-I won’t demand an answer.” She ended demurely,
-apologetically, and seemed waiting for
-Tom to say something. He had an uncomfortable
-but not altogether unpleasant sensation of being
-made fun of.</p>
-
-<p>“I—I guess I don’t just understand you,” he
-stammered.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Never mind,” she replied sweetly. “It’s of
-no consequence. I want to get a pair of skates,
-please. For a boy,” she added.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m. All-clamp?”</p>
-
-<p>“Goodness, are there different kinds?” she
-asked in a pretty dismay.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m, we have four or five kinds and they
-sell all the way from seventy-five cents to six dollars.
-I guess, though, you want a pair of half-clamp
-at about three dollars. Like these.” Tom
-opened the case and laid a pair of skates on the
-counter alongside. The lady looked at them doubtfully,
-held one up, and then thoughtfully ran it
-along the counter, shaking her head.</p>
-
-<p>“I think I’ll have to leave it to you,” she said,
-“for I know very little about skates, especially
-boys’ skates. You see, I want them for my boy.
-They were to be a Christmas present, but he’s
-been ill at home for two weeks now and the doctor
-has promised him he can get out of the house in
-a few days and he’s very eager to go skating. Of
-course he can’t, just right away, because he hurt
-his shoulder rather badly playing football and I
-suppose skating wouldn’t be good for it. But it
-seemed too bad to make him wait nearly a month<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
-for skates when the skating has already begun.
-Don’t you think so?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m,” said Tom heartily.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s what I thought. So his father and I
-decided he should have the skates now. I dare
-say there’ll be plenty of other things he will want
-by Christmas,” she added smilingly. “Oh, I almost
-forgot. He wanted hockey skates. Are these
-hockey skates?”</p>
-
-<p>“No’m; at least, they ain’t—aren’t called
-hockey skates. We have regular hockey skates
-here; two kinds. They cost more, though. These
-are five dollars and a quarter and these are six.”</p>
-
-<p>“But they’re quite different, aren’t they?”
-she said perplexedly.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m. These they call tubular.”</p>
-
-<p>“Which are the best?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know, ma’am. I never played
-hockey.”</p>
-
-<p>“Really? Don’t you skate, either?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m, but I don’t have much time. I go to
-school from half-past eight to three and other
-times I work here.”</p>
-
-<p>“High school, do you mean?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Then perhaps you know my boy?” she said
-eagerly.</p>
-
-<p>“No’m, I know him by sight, that’s all. It was
-too bad his getting hurt in that game.”</p>
-
-<p>“Wasn’t it? You see, it kept him out of the
-big game and he was quite heart-broken about
-it. Of course his father and I aren’t very happy
-when he’s playing, but Mr. Morris insists that it’s
-a fine thing for him, and Sidney himself loves
-it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I—I hope he’s getting on all right, ma’am,”
-said Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes, thank you, he’s doing very well. I
-wish you knew him. He’s rather a nice boy——”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m, he’s awfully popular at school.”</p>
-
-<p>“And,” continued Mrs. Morris smilingly,
-“you seem a very nice boy, too. I think you
-ought to know each other.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom blushed a little. “Yes’m; I mean thank
-you,” he murmured.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Morris laughed softly again. Tom liked
-that laugh of hers immensely, it was so sort of
-happy and kind and friendly. “Well,” she said,
-“we haven’t decided about the skates, have we?
-Perhaps the best thing to do is to have you send<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
-both pairs around and let Sidney take his choice.
-Could you send them this evening?”</p>
-
-<p>“I—I’m afraid not,” answered Tom, glancing
-at the clock and knowing that the last delivery had
-left the store a half-hour ago.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Morris’s face fell. “Oh, I’m so sorry!
-I did want him to have them to-night. He’s been
-so—so unhappy and grumpy to-day, you see. But
-perhaps I could take them myself if you did them
-up.”</p>
-
-<p>“They’d be pretty heavy,” demurred Tom.
-“If—if you’ll let me, I’ll bring them myself after
-I get through.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I wouldn’t think of troubling you! We
-live quite a distance. I dare say to-morrow will
-do just as well.”</p>
-
-<p>“I wouldn’t mind doing it a bit,” said Tom
-eagerly. “I—I’d be glad to!”</p>
-
-<p>“Really? That’s very kind of you. If you’re
-quite certain it won’t be too much trouble, I’d
-love to have you. Besides, I want you to know
-my boy, and it will do him good to have someone
-of his own sort to talk to for a little while.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of going in!” declared
-Tom in a mild panic.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“But you really must! I want you to. It’s
-a part of the bargain.” She smiled, and Tom
-knew right there and then that if Mrs. Morris
-wanted the moon she had only to smile at him
-to set him off after it! “You won’t fail to come,
-will you? Sidney would be so disappointed if
-you should. And Sidney’s mother, too,” she
-added as she took up her muff and nodded charmingly.
-Then, pausing on her way to the door,
-she turned a very serious face toward Tom. He
-was not near enough to see the mischievous mockery
-in her brown eyes. “If you don’t come,” she
-said, “I shall know that it’s your troublesome
-hair!”</p>
-
-<p>“Now, what do you suppose she meant by
-that?” demanded Tom of no one in particular,
-unless it was Alexander the Greater, who was approaching
-over the tops of the showcases. Alexander
-the Greater was a very large, very dignified,
-and very lazy maltese cat. His predecessor had
-been named Alexander the Great and so, of course,
-his name could only be Alexander the Greater.
-Tom absently dug his fingers in the cat’s thick
-ruff and repeated the question, “Now, <em>what</em> do
-you suppose she meant by that?” He passed an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
-inquiring hand over his hair and then, in spite
-of the fact that a customer had just entered and
-was looking vaguely around, he hurried to the
-stairway, bolted down it, switched on the light
-over the wash-bowl, and looked anxiously at his
-reflection in the cracked mirror. Except that a
-stray lock stood up independently on his crown,
-he could not see that his hair was different from
-usual or, for that matter, different from any other
-fellow’s hair—except in colour. He had never
-been particularly pleased with the colour of his
-hair. There was too much red in it. Perhaps
-that was it; perhaps Mrs. Morris had been poking
-sly fun at the colour of his hair. And yet——
-He shook his head as he hurried back upstairs to
-do up the two pairs of skates. It didn’t seem as
-though that was just it.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a><br />
-<small>TWO PAIRS OF SKATES</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>He didn’t set out for the Morrises house until
-nearly eight o’clock. They had been busier than
-usual in the store and had not got rid of the last
-customer until almost a quarter-past six. Then,
-although Tom spent no unnecessary time on his
-supper, it was way after seven by the time he
-hurried around to his room to change his clothes.
-It would never do, he assured himself, to make
-a call in his every-day suit! As he was far more
-particular in dressing than he had ever been before
-in his life, he made slow work of it and was
-horrified to find that his watch proclaimed the
-time to be twelve minutes of eight! In something
-of a panic then, he dashed downstairs and along
-Locust Street, the bundle of skates under his arm.
-He had meant to walk to the Morrises, but now it
-was necessary to spend a nickel and ride there by
-trolley car. Why, they might be getting ready
-for bed by the time he got there!</p>
-
-<p>He was a good deal excited. Also, he was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
-good deal nervous. He remembered reading somewhere
-once that when calling you were supposed
-to present your visiting card to the maid or the
-butler or whoever it was that opened the door to
-you. Tom had no visiting card, very naturally,
-and he wondered whether the lack of it would matter
-very much. He might explain to the maid that
-he had accidentally left his cards at home in his
-other suit. Then he reflected that when you carried
-visiting cards you were presumed to have
-more than two suits, and that it would be better
-to say that he had left the cards on his bureau.
-Then, having apologised in such fashion, he would
-give his name and ask to see Mrs. Morris. He
-guessed that would be all right. He rather hoped,
-though, it would be a man instead of a maid who
-answered the door. He could make his explanation
-more easily to a man.</p>
-
-<p>He wondered whether Sidney Morris would
-mind his coming. He hoped Sidney wouldn’t
-think he had suggested the visit. He wouldn’t
-think for a moment of forcing his acquaintance on
-a chap like Sidney Morris, who was one of the
-most popular and sought-after fellows in school!
-And besides, Tom reflected, the Morrises must be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
-very well-off, and it didn’t seem likely that Sidney
-would care to have much to do with a fellow
-who worked in a store. Of course it was perfectly
-bully of Mrs. Morris to want him to know her
-son, but he feared that Mrs. Morris hadn’t stopped
-to consider the difference in their positions.</p>
-
-<p>The car seemed to crawl through town, and
-Tom, in a fever of impatience lest his visit be
-timed too late, glanced at his watch every two or
-three blocks. Finally, though, the conductor
-called Alameda Avenue and Tom descended. It
-wasn’t hard to find the Morris residence, for the
-number of the house was plainly in view on each
-of the round electric globes that flanked the gate.
-A short path led to a stone-pillared porch. The
-house was not so grand and impressive as he had
-feared it might be. It was of stone as to the
-lower story and shingles above and had many
-dormers of different sizes. But Tom didn’t have
-time to receive more than a fleeting impression of
-its outward appearance then, for a dozen strides
-took him to the door. There he paused a moment,
-in the soft glow of an overhead light, to rehearse
-his speech to the maid or the butler. Finally he
-pressed the button beside the wide doorway and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
-waited. An inner door opened and Tom saw disappointedly
-through a meshed curtain that it was
-a woman who was answering his summons. But
-when the outer door gave way it was Mrs. Morris
-herself who stood there. In the background a
-maid in cap and apron hovered uncertainly for
-a minute and disappeared. Tom, in his surprise,
-almost recited his piece about the visiting cards
-to Mrs. Morris, and would have doubtless had not
-that lady held out her hand and taken the conduct
-of affairs at once. Before he knew it, Tom was
-inside, fumbling with his hat and holding out his
-bundle insistently.</p>
-
-<p>“I brought the skates,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s very nice of you. And we’ll take them
-upstairs in just a moment. First, though, I want
-you to meet my husband. I’ve told him about
-you.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom followed her across a soft-piled rug and
-through a wide doorway into a room all warmth
-and colour and leather chairs and book-lined walls
-and low lights. A very tall man with grey moustaches
-and a deep, pleasant voice shook hands with
-him, spoke of the cold weather, thanked him for
-coming, and, as Tom backed away, colliding with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
-a table, said he hoped he’d see him again. Tom
-was glad when he was safely through the library
-doors once more, and Mrs. Morris, chatting gaily
-to put him at his ease, led the way up a wide,
-carpeted stairway so gradual of ascent that one
-hardly realised one was climbing. Another broad
-hall, with silvery walls hung with many unobtrusive
-pictures and furnished with easy-chairs
-and couches in cretonne, received him, and across
-this he followed to a doorway.</p>
-
-<p>“Here he is, Sid,” said Mrs. Morris. She
-stood aside to let Tom enter first. “You see,”
-she went on, “I can’t announce you by name because
-I don’t know what your name is.”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s Tom Pollock, ma’am,” stammered Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, this is Tom, Sidney. And he’s
-brought the skates for you to look at. Tom, this
-is my son, Sidney.”</p>
-
-<p>The boy in the easy-chair held out his left hand.
-“Don’t mind my not getting up, do you?” he
-asked. “They won’t let me move around much
-yet. Glad to meet you. I think I’ve seen you over
-at school.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Morris pushed forward a chair and Tom
-sat down, holding his hat very firmly and finding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
-nothing to say just then. Sidney was already undoing
-the package, frankly eager. Mrs. Morris
-leaned above him smilingly. Tom’s eyes wandered
-about the room. It was certainly jolly. He
-had never seen anything at all like it, had never
-even imagined that such a room could exist.
-There were two recessed windows with wide, comfortable
-seats beneath them and low book-cases
-at each side. (Just the place, Tom thought, to
-curl up and read.) The walls were papered in grey
-and the big rug that not quite covered the floor
-was grey, too, with a broad border of dark blue.
-The bed, on which the clothes were neatly and
-invitingly turned down, was a sort of a grey as
-well, and the silken coverlid that lay across the
-foot was grey and blue. Even the furniture and
-the window curtains repeated the colours. A
-small desk near the chair in which the occupant
-of the splendid apartment was seated held books
-and papers and writing materials and a green-shaded
-electric light that could be twisted about
-in any direction and to any height. On the walls
-hung a few plainly-framed pictures, while above
-the fireplace, in which a coal fire glowed cosily,
-were two gaily-hued posters, a pair of fencing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
-foils, crossed under a mask, and a yard-long photograph
-of a football game in progress. Beneath
-that, on the mantel, was a long row of photographs.
-Tom’s examination, a little envious by
-now, was interrupted by Sidney.</p>
-
-<p>“I say, Mumsie, they’re peaches! Gee, I don’t
-know which pair I want. What do you say,
-Tom?”</p>
-
-<p>“I—I guess I wouldn’t know which to take if
-it was me,” answered Tom shyly. “They’re both
-dandy, aren’t they?”</p>
-
-<p>“Know anything about these tubular ones?”
-asked Sidney. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a
-pair before.”</p>
-
-<p>“They’re new,” said Tom. “They look pretty
-strong, though.”</p>
-
-<p>“They’ve got a dandy edge. I sort of think
-I’ll take these, Mumsie. Gee, I wish I could
-try them to-morrow! You skate, don’t you,
-Tom?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not very well.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ever play hockey?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom shook his head. “Not real hockey, I
-guess. We kids used to knock a hard rubber ball
-or a hunk of wood around on the ice. We had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
-goal posts, too, but I suppose real hockey is—is
-scientific, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>Sidney replied with enthusiasm that it certainly
-was. When Sidney was enthusiastic his brown
-eyes sparkled and his lean, good-looking face
-lighted up from the firm, pointed chin to the dark
-hair brushed smoothly back from the forehead.
-Sidney was sixteen, small-boned, and as lithe as
-a greyhound. As right end on the school eleven
-he had won laurels all season until an accident to
-the shoulder, that was still immovably bandaged,
-had laid him off. In baseball, too, in hockey, and,
-in fact, in all games and athletic endeavours he
-excelled by reason of a natural ability. He was
-the sort of boy who, if thrown into the water, will
-strike out and swim as inherently as a puppy; who
-if handed a baseball bat will swing it as knowingly
-as an experienced player. Lean, supple,
-and graceful, his muscles were as responsive to
-demands upon them as—well, as a kitten’s! And
-anyone who has watched a kitten at play will appreciate
-the simile. He had a temperament to
-match. He was ardent, impulsive, and at times
-quick-tempered. He possessed good judgment,
-but was liable to be biassed by his sympathies.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
-He was extremely popular at school and something
-of a leader in the sophomore class. Being
-an only child, it was a good deal of a miracle
-that he had not been spoiled. Most of the credit
-was due to Mr. Morris, but much to Sidney himself.</p>
-
-<p>While Sidney was still explaining hockey, Mrs.
-Morris left the room. Only Tom saw her go, for
-Sidney was much too interested in his subject.
-“I’m going out for the team,” he explained.
-“Why don’t you try it? Even if you don’t make
-it, you’ll have a lot of fun. Why don’t you!”</p>
-
-<p>“I wouldn’t have time,” said Tom regretfully.
-“I work in Cummings and Wright’s after school
-every day.”</p>
-
-<p>“I forgot that. Do you like it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, pretty well. They’re awfully nice to me
-there and I guess I was lucky to get a job with
-them. Of course, though, I’d like mighty well
-to—to play hockey and football and things, you
-see.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s tough, isn’t it?” said Sidney sympathetically.
-“I suppose—I mean—well, you <em>have</em>
-to do it, don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” returned Tom. “It pays for my room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
-I live down on Locust Street, by the railroad.”
-He said this with just a trace of defiance and
-watched to see how Sidney would take it. Probably
-he wouldn’t be very anxious to pursue the
-acquaintance of a fellow who lived in such an
-unfashionable part of town. But if Sidney was
-shocked or surprised he certainly didn’t show it.</p>
-
-<p>“That must be pretty good fun,” he said, “living
-all by yourself like that. You don’t have to
-tell anyone where you’re going or anything, do
-you? And you can stay out as late as you like,
-too! I’d like to be able to do that. Say, I think
-you’re a plucky kid to work like you do and earn
-money. I wonder if I could if I had to?” He
-was silent a moment, turning the matter over in
-his mind and frowning a little. “I don’t believe
-so,” he said finally. “I guess I’d just starve
-to death if it came to earning my living!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom had no views on the subject and so asked
-about Sidney’s injury.</p>
-
-<p>“Doc says I can go out in three or four days.
-He’s a bit of an old granny, I think. I wish <em>he</em>
-had to sit around here with his shoulder done up
-in a vise! And after I get out I’m not to use
-that arm for nearly two weeks. Hang it, by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
-time I can do anything they’ll have the hockey
-team all made up!” And he kicked disgustedly
-at the wrapping paper which had fallen from his
-knees. “A fellow was in here this afternoon
-and he said the ice was bully. Say, do you folks
-keep hockey sticks?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, just skates,” said Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“I should think you would. You’d sell a lot
-of them. The only place where you can get them
-is Merrill’s. Why don’t you get Cummings and
-Wright to keep them?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll speak to Mr. Cummings about it,” said
-Tom. “We got a lot of dandy—dandy—what
-are those things you slide down the snow on? The
-things that are like sleds without any runners?”</p>
-
-<p>“Toboggans? By jiminy, that’s what I’ll ask
-the folks to get me for Christmas! Some day I’ll
-come down and have a look at them. Are you generally
-there after school?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, unless they send me on an errand. I
-have to trot around a good deal.” Tom arose,
-still tightly clutching his hat. “I guess I’d better
-be going now,” he added.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, hold on! Don’t go yet. It isn’t late,
-is it?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“It’s after nine,” said Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s early. And you don’t have to get home
-until you want to.”</p>
-
-<p>“I—I’ve got some studying to do,” responded
-Tom. He really wanted to stay, but feared Mrs.
-Morris would think he was overdoing it.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” said Sidney regretfully, “if you have
-to! Will you take this other pair back or shall
-I send them to-morrow?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll take them,” said Tom. “It’s no bother.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right. Tell them to charge the other
-pair to my father, please. Thanks for bringing
-them. And say, what are you doing to-morrow
-night?”</p>
-
-<p>“Doing? Just—just nothing particular, I
-guess.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, can’t you drop in for awhile? I’ll do
-as much for you if you get laid up,” laughed Sidney.
-“I wish you would, honest! You don’t
-know how tired a fellow gets of just reading.
-I’ve got my lessons up to next week some time, I
-guess, and I’ve read every book in sight. Some
-of the fellows come in now and then, but they
-don’t want to stay more than a minute. I don’t
-blame them, though; there’s too much doing.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“I’d like to very much,” answered Tom, “if—if
-your mother thinks I ought to.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course she does! Don’t you, Mumsie?”
-Mrs. Morris entered at that moment. “Don’t you
-think he ought to come around to-morrow evening
-and see me!” explained Sidney.</p>
-
-<p>“I think we’d all be very glad if he would,”
-responded Mrs. Morris kindly. “Perhaps,
-though, he has too much to do, dear.”</p>
-
-<p>“No’m, I haven’t, and I’d like to come very
-much.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the ticket! Come early and we’ll have
-a fine long chin. Say, Mumsie, what do you suppose
-he does? Works in Cummings and Wright’s
-and makes money to pay for his room and board!
-What do you know about that?”</p>
-
-<p>“I think it’s very creditable, don’t you, Sid?”</p>
-
-<p>“Rather! Wish I could get out and do something
-like that! It would be jolly, I should
-think.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Morris smiled and patted his shoulder.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t earn enough for my board, too,” corrected
-Tom. “Just for my lodging. They don’t
-pay me very much because I’m not there very
-long, you see. I saved up some money last summer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
-and the summer before. My board comes out
-of that.”</p>
-
-<p>“Bet they don’t pay you enough,” said Sidney
-convincedly. “I know old man Wright. He’s
-Billy Wright’s father, you know, Mumsie. He’s
-a bit of a tightwad, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s awful slang, Sid,” Mrs. Morris reproved
-smilingly. “I’m sure you don’t use slang,
-Tom, do you?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom grinned embarrassedly and Sidney chuckled.
-“I—I’m afraid so, ma’am, sometimes,”
-owned Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll bet you do! Why, say, Mumsie uses
-slang herself, Tom!”</p>
-
-<p>“Sidney!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, you do! The other day you said something
-was ‘the limit.’”</p>
-
-<p>“It was the butter we got from the new man,”
-laughed Mrs. Morris. “And it was the limit, too!
-Are you going to take this pair of skates, dear?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m; and he’s going to lug the other back.
-I guess you’ll have to wrap them up, Tom. I’m
-not much good yet.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom had to lay his hat aside to do it and somehow
-losing hold of his hat seemed to increase his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
-embarrassment. When the skates were back in
-the paper, it was with vast relief that he seized his
-hat once more. He had been aware during the
-operation that Mrs. Morris and her son had been
-talking together in low tones and now, when he
-stood up to leave, Sidney said:</p>
-
-<p>“I say, Tom, Mumsie says——”</p>
-
-<p>“No, Sid!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, anyway——” He paused and looked
-appealingly at his mother. “You say it, Mumsie,
-please.”</p>
-
-<p>“Very well,” replied Mrs. Morris with her
-pleasant laugh. “Sid and I, Tom, want you to
-keep those other skates for yourself. They’re a
-sort of Christmas present from the Morris family.
-It’s very near Christmas, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>“He doesn’t have to wait until Christmas to
-use them, though, does he?” said Sidney. “And,
-I say, Mumsie, maybe he’d rather have a pair like
-mine.”</p>
-
-<p>“Would you?” asked Mrs. Morris.</p>
-
-<p>“No’m. I mean—I—I’m awfully much obliged—and
-thank you very much—but I guess I’d
-rather not,” stammered Tom in an ecstasy of
-embarrassment.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Don’t be a chump!” begged Sidney. “Of
-course you’ll take them. Why not? After coming
-all the way out here to-night and——”</p>
-
-<p>“That was part of my work, anyway,” said
-Tom. “And I wanted to come——”</p>
-
-<p>“But that isn’t the reason we want you to have
-them,” said Mrs. Morris sweetly. “It’s just because
-you’re—oh, just because you’re a nice boy
-and we like you. We do, don’t we, Sid?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sure,” laughed Sidney. “Say, Tom, you
-keep them and some day we’ll go out to the
-pond and I’ll show you how to use a hockey
-stick.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why—why, I suppose—if you really want me
-to have them——”</p>
-
-<p>“We really do, Tom,” said Mrs. Morris.</p>
-
-<p>“They’re pretty expensive, though,” Tom
-demurred anxiously. “And I’ve got a pair
-already.”</p>
-
-<p>“Are they as good as those?” asked Sidney.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, no; they’re just a pair of wooden strap
-skates. They—they do very well, though.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pshaw, a fellow can’t skate with straps
-around his foot,” said Sidney contemptuously.
-“You just see how much better you’ll get along<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
-with those. If you’d rather have a pair like these,
-though, you can have them; can’t he, Mumsie?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d rather keep these,” said Tom shyly, “because—because
-they’re the ones you give—gave
-me.” And he looked gratefully at Mrs. Morris.</p>
-
-<p>She clapped her hands softly. “Oh, we do like
-you, Tom!” she cried. “That was a perfect
-thing to say, wasn’t it, Sid?”</p>
-
-<p>Sidney grinned. “He’s gone on you, Mumsie.”</p>
-
-<p>“Sidney!”</p>
-
-<p>“He is, though.” He laughed across at Tom.
-“All the fellows fall in love with my mother, Tom.
-You can’t help it.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom blushed hotly, and Mrs. Morris said reprovingly:
-“Sid, you shouldn’t say such awful
-things, dear. Tom may not understand your fun.”</p>
-
-<p>“I can understand what—what he said,” muttered
-Tom boldly, and Sidney applauded by rattling
-the skates he held. Mrs. Morris blushed a
-little herself then.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re both rather awful,” she said. “And
-it’s about time for you to be thinking of bed, Sid.
-Come, Tom, we’ll leave him to consider his sins.
-I’ll be up again, Sid, in a few minutes.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom said good night to Sidney, repeating his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
-promise to return to-morrow evening, and followed
-Mrs. Morris downstairs. At the door she
-held out her hand to him and Tom took it awkwardly.</p>
-
-<p>“Good night, Tom,” she said. “Thanks for
-coming. Sidney enjoyed your visit very much.
-And so did I. And don’t forget to come again.”</p>
-
-<p>“No’m, thanks. Good night, Mrs. Morris.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good night. And, Tom!” Tom was outside
-now and the door was slowly closing. “<em>Please</em>
-don’t worry about your hair!”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a><br />
-<small>TOM GAINS PROMOTION</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>That was the beginning of the friendship. Sidney,
-who had begun being nice to Tom to please
-his mother, continued being nice to him because
-he liked him. There was an earnest, downright
-quality to Tom that the older boy was attracted
-by. Then when Sidney found that, in spite of
-an inclination toward unusual seriousness in one
-of his age, Tom had a perfectly good, if somewhat
-repressed, sense of humour, Sidney took to him in
-earnest. The boys were quite unalike in many
-ways. Sidney was small-boned, lithe, graceful,
-and dark. Tom was heavier, less finely built, and
-light. Sidney was impulsive, Tom deliberate.
-Both were capable of deep enthusiasms, but Tom’s
-were of slower birth and, perhaps, of longer duration.
-It is not unusual for boys to form friendships
-for those quite opposed to them both physically
-and mentally. In such a partnership what
-one lacks the other supplies. This explains to
-some extent the friendship that sprang up between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
-Sidney Morris and Tom Pollock. For a
-week Tom believed that when Sidney was once
-more off the invalid list and free to seek the companionship
-of his old acquaintances he would see
-very little of him. The reverse, however, proved
-to be the case.</p>
-
-<p>The friendship, instead of ceasing, grew. Sidney
-sought Tom at the hardware store in the late
-afternoons, stamping in sweatered and coated
-with his skating boots hung from a hockey stick
-over his shoulder and his face flushed by the afternoon’s
-practice. Then he would perch himself
-on the edge of a counter upstairs or on a box in
-the packing room below and tell enthusiastically
-of the practice. Mr. Cummings viewed him amusedly,
-Mr. Wright with deep scowls. He made
-friends at once with Joe Gillig, and I’m not at all
-certain that duties weren’t neglected sometimes
-when the three boys got together at the back of
-the store. At least once a week, often twice, Sidney
-haled Tom home to dinner with him. At
-first Tom went with misgivings, but when he
-realised that both Mr. and Mrs. Morris were glad
-to have him, or anyone else that Sidney wanted,
-he got over his shyness and enjoyed those evenings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
-immeasurably. After dinner they went up
-to Sidney’s room and talked and talked on all the
-thousand and one subjects dear to a boy’s heart.
-I think Sidney did most of the talking, however,
-which was to be expected since he had much more
-to talk about. Tom’s existence was rather hum-drum
-and few experiences or adventures fell to
-his lot those days.</p>
-
-<p>In school the boys saw little of each other since
-they were in different classes, but notes passed
-between them constantly, frightfully important
-notes making engagements for meetings after
-school or at lunch hour or containing news that
-couldn’t possibly wait to be told verbally. Of
-course Sidney did not give up his other friends,
-but instead of spreading his friendship over a
-half-dozen boys as he had done before, he gave
-most of it to Tom. They became inseparable. As
-may be expected, a good deal of fun, some good-natured
-and some malicious, was poked at the
-pair. Disgruntled ones called Tom a “hayseed”
-and a “Rube.” This annoyed Sidney more than
-it did Tom, however.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t mind,” he would say calmly. “I
-guess that’s what I am, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“I’d like one of them to say that to me,” said
-Sidney warmly. “I’d punch him!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom did not get the promised instruction in
-hockey that winter, for the reason that he never
-could find an opportunity to go with Sidney to the
-pond. Neither did he have a chance to see the
-hockey team in action. But he heard all about
-it from Sidney, who had gained a much-coveted
-position on it, and mourned with his chum over
-defeats and triumphed with him over victories;
-and the two were very evenly apportioned that
-year.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile, Christmas came and went, and the
-New Year was rung in. The holiday season made
-a deal of hard work for Tom, for the store kept
-open every evening until Christmas and more than
-once he was forced to delay his departure for
-Derry until Sunday morning. Christmas Day was
-spent at home. He had purchased small gifts
-for everyone, including Star, who got a new collar,
-and he received presents from all. Uncle
-Israel gave him a five-dollar gold-piece, a deed of
-generosity as surprising as it was welcome to
-Tom. Sidney had thrust a small parcel into
-Tom’s hand the day before, and when Tom opened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
-it Christmas morning he found a pretty gold stick-pin
-set with a topaz that, although he didn’t
-realise it, was exactly the colour of some of the
-big freckles that adorned his nose! In the afternoon
-he took his skates down to the creek and
-joined the merry throng of boys and girls. It
-was the first time he had tried the skates and
-they proved wonderful, besides being objects
-of envy to the other fellows. Jim Billings,
-whose father Tom had worked for last summer,
-remarked sneeringly after an examination
-of the new skates, that “Tom Pollock was
-gettin’ mighty stuck-up since he’d gone to the
-city!”</p>
-
-<p>The next evening Tom accompanied Sidney
-home and stayed to dinner and saw the big Christmas
-Tree that was strung with tiny electric lights
-of white and red and blue. And Sidney showed
-him all his presents, and there was a whole big
-lot of them, too, Tom thought. One of them was
-the toboggan that Sidney had expressed a wish
-for and another was a little easel calendar in red
-paper that looked something like leather if you
-didn’t get too close to it. Sidney told Tom, with
-an arm over his shoulders, that it was “just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
-bully” and that he liked it better than almost
-anything he’d got. The calendar was Tom’s modest
-gift.</p>
-
-<p>After New Year’s life settled down again into
-the old manner. Tom studied hard at school and
-worked hard at the store, but he enjoyed both.
-Having a friend like Sidney had done away with
-loneliness and he no longer spent solitary evenings
-in his room. Once in a while Sidney came
-down to Locust Street, but usually Tom went to
-Sidney’s house. His comings and goings there
-were now matters of no comment. Mr. and Mrs.
-Morris always greeted him warmly and made him
-feel at home and free to come and go as he liked.
-Sometimes another fellow would drop in, sometimes
-two or three, and they had very merry times
-up in Sidney’s room. But Tom liked best the
-evenings when Sidney and he were alone. Several
-of the boys he had met through Sidney he
-liked very much, but he was apt to feel rather
-shy and constrained when they were around.
-Very often Mrs. Morris joined them for a few
-minutes, much to the pleasure of Tom, who still
-secretly adored her. Once, a month or so after
-their first meeting, he asked Sidney what he supposed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
-his mother meant by her frequent allusions
-to his hair.</p>
-
-<p>“She’s always telling me not to trouble about
-it,” said Tom, mystified. “I suppose she’s
-just sort of making fun about it because it’s
-red.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t call it red,” answered Sidney. “It’s
-a dandy colour. You never know what Mumsie
-has in her head when she says things like that.
-She’s always having little jokes to herself. She’s
-funny.”</p>
-
-<p>“She’s terribly nice,” said Tom. “And—and
-she’s the prettiest lady in Amesville, too, Sid.”</p>
-
-<p>“You bet she is!”</p>
-
-<p>One February morning, when Tom had trudged
-through a raging blizzard to the high school only
-to learn when he reached it that the “no school”
-whistle had blown a half-hour before, he decided
-to keep on to Sidney’s house. It was a good mile
-out there from the school and the wind and snow
-were cutting up high jinks, but Tom scorned the
-trolley cars, not altogether from motives of economy,
-and walked, fighting every step of the way.
-When he reached the Morrises the maid told him
-that Master Sidney had just gone downtown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
-Tom was turning away when Mrs. Morris appeared
-and insisted on his coming in.</p>
-
-<p>“Sid won’t be more than a half-hour,” she
-said. “He went in to get something for his wireless
-set.” (A wireless receiving set had been
-amongst his Christmas presents and both he and
-Tom were greatly interested in it.) “Come in
-and get warm, Tom.” Then, seeing his condition,
-“Why, Tom Pollock!” she exclaimed. “I believe
-you walked!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m, I did,” answered Tom apologetically.</p>
-
-<p>“Of all things on a day like this!” Mrs. Morris
-shook her head hopelessly. “Well, boys have
-no sense, anyway. Now take that coat right off
-and—— And no overshoes, either! Tom Pollock,
-you ought to be spanked and put to bed!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m,” agreed Tom sheepishly.</p>
-
-<p>Five minutes later, divested of his wet clothes
-and chastely attired in a voluminous bath-robe
-of Mr. Morris’s, he was toasting in front of a
-big fire in the library and drinking beef tea that
-Mrs. Morris made by dropping a mysterious dark-brown
-tablet into a cup of hot water. It was very
-nice, and its effect, or perhaps the combined effects
-of the hard tussle with the blizzard and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
-warmth of the fire, was to make Tom feel delightfully
-drowsy and comfortable. When, presently,
-he had finished the beef tea and Mrs. Morris had
-returned from bearing away the empty cup, an
-unwonted boldness came to him.</p>
-
-<p>“I wish,” he said as Mrs. Morris sank into a
-chair at the other side of the hearth, “I wish
-you’d tell me, please, what’s the matter with my
-hair.”</p>
-
-<p>She looked at it concernedly. Tom, however,
-saw the laughter in her eyes. “Is it bothering
-you again, Tom?” she asked. “I’m so sorry!”</p>
-
-<p>“It—it don’t bother me at all,” he responded
-desperately. “Only you’re all the time telling me
-not to let it! Is it just because it’s red?”</p>
-
-<p>Then Mrs. Morris laughed deliciously. “No,
-Tom, it isn’t,” she said. “I suppose I’ve been
-horribly mean to tease you about it, haven’t I?”</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t mind,” Tom assured her earnestly.
-“Only—I wondered what it was. I asked Sid
-and he said he guessed it was just one of your
-jokes.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course it was; a rather silly one, too, Tom.
-Do you remember stopping one day in front of
-Sewall’s jewelry store and looking in a mirror?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“No’m, I don’t think so.” Tom shook his head.</p>
-
-<p>“It was away last summer—or early in the
-fall, Tom. You looked in the mirror and frowned
-and then you took off your hat and smoothed your
-hair. And then you nodded at yourself quite satisfied
-and looked up and caught me smiling at you.
-Don’t you remember now?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m.” Tom laughed shamefacedly.</p>
-
-<p>“You scowled at me terrifically,” went on
-Mrs. Morris. “It amused me because I thought I
-knew just how you felt at being caught primping.
-And then when I saw you in Cummings and
-Wright’s that time I recognised you at once and
-thought I’d have a little fun with you. So I asked
-about your hair. That’s all there is to it. As to
-your hair being red, why, it isn’t; not really red,
-you know. It’s a perfectly wonderful shade and
-I wish I had it, Tom!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom thought her own soft brown hair infinitely
-more lovely and becoming, but he didn’t say so.
-He only grinned.</p>
-
-<p>“Are you terribly angry with me?” she went
-on smilingly.</p>
-
-<p>“No’m.” Tom shook his head again. “I—I
-guess I sort of liked it!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Then Sidney burst in, laden with packages, and
-dragged Tom upstairs to witness the installation
-of a new detector.</p>
-
-<p>At the store Tom had been making strides. As
-yet there had been no mention of a raise in wages;
-he was still receiving his two dollars a week and
-being credited with fifty cents against the price
-of the pump; but he had progressed wonderfully.
-To be sure, he still swept and washed windows
-and ran an occasional errand, but he was at last
-a real clerk when those duties did not engage his
-attention. It had begun when Tom had acted on
-Sidney’s suggestion and explained to Mr. Cummings
-that it might be a good plan to keep hockey
-sticks as well as skates. Mr. Cummings had fallen
-in with the idea at once and had ordered the sticks.
-Unfortunately they had proved, on arrival, to be
-rather inferior and purchasers had objected to
-them.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” said Mr. Cummings when Tom reported
-the matter, “you find out what make of
-stick the boys want and let me know. This is your
-undertaking, Tom.”</p>
-
-<p>So Tom found out where the best hockey sticks
-were made and a new consignment was ordered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
-Gradually pucks and all the paraphernalia of
-hockey were added and, in some way, the sale of
-those things became Tom’s especial task. Boys
-who came for skates or sticks or leg-guards or
-pucks sought him out and didn’t want to be waited
-on by anyone else. Mr. Cummings laughingly referred
-to “Tom’s Department.” But “Tom’s
-Department” made such a good showing by the
-middle of the winter that Mr. Cummings was both
-surprised and gratified. After that Tom had only
-to list an article wanted and Mr. Cummings sent
-in the order at once. There was no question as
-to the advisability of carrying it.</p>
-
-<p>The last of February, Joe Gillig caught a heavy
-cold and took to bed with congestion of the lungs,
-and Tom suddenly found himself elevated temporarily
-to the position of clerk. Mr. Cummings was
-at first inclined to look for someone to take Joe’s
-place while he was out, but Mr. Wright objected.
-“Let Tom do his work for him,” he said. “I
-guess he can sell nails as well as Joe.” Mr. Cummings
-agreed doubtfully, and for three weeks Tom
-was exempt from window washing, sweeping, and
-errands. At first he was a trifle alarmed at the
-new responsibility, but he got on perfectly well,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
-and Mr. Cummings was forced to agree with his
-partner that Tom could “sell nails as well as
-Joe.” At the end of the fortnight he even went
-further than that and acknowledged that Tom
-promised to become in time a much better salesman
-than Joe. For Tom took a great deal of
-pains to please customers; and those who looked
-askance at him at first on account of his
-youthfulness and showed a preference for being
-waited on by one of the partners soon changed
-their minds. Tom was somehow able to take a
-personal interest in the wants of even the humblest
-patron and forked out two pounds of ten-penny
-nails with as much care and attention as he
-would have displayed in filling a hundred-dollar
-order. If a customer wanted an article not in
-stock and which Tom believed he could obtain
-from another store, he did not, as Joe would have
-done, carelessly inform the purchaser that they
-were out of it. Tom said: “We haven’t that in
-just now, sir, but I’ll see that you have it this afternoon,
-if that will do. Where shall I send it?”
-Then at dinner time Tom scurried around to one
-or another of the rival stores, found the article,
-paid for it, and sent it out on the afternoon delivery.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
-The first time he did this he presented his
-bill to Miss Miller and was reimbursed. Not long
-afterward Mr. Wright came across the item and
-made inquiries. Tom was called in to explain.
-“But what’s the use of doing a thing like that?”
-inquired Mr. Wright irritably. “You paid eighty-five
-cents for the thing and sold it at eighty-five
-cents. Where does the profit to us come in, young
-man?”</p>
-
-<p>“There isn’t any profit, sir,” Tom answered.
-“But the customer gets what he wants, sir. It
-doesn’t cost us anything and maybe we keep the
-man’s trade. If we tell him we’re out of a certain
-thing, he might go to Bullard’s or Stevens
-and Green’s for it and keep on going there.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Wright said “Humph!” and rattled a
-pen-holder. Mr. Cummings, however, nodded.
-“You’re right, Tom,” he said. “That’s well
-reasoned. You evidently think it pays to please
-your customers, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir; don’t you?” asked Tom innocently.</p>
-
-<p>“I do.” Mr. Cummings smiled. “But lots of
-employés don’t, son. You keep on with that notion.
-It’s a good one. And whenever you can find
-something at another store that we haven’t got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
-you get it. Have them make out a bill for it and
-get your money from Miss Miller. That right,
-Horace?”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess so,” answered Mr. Wright. “Seems
-to me, though, we’d ought to have the thing and
-not be buying from other hardware stores.”</p>
-
-<p>“Bless us, we can’t keep everything folks ask
-for! Nobody can. But, as Tom here says, there’s
-no need to let folks know it!”</p>
-
-<p>It was a day or two later that Tom was again
-summoned to the office in a slack period. Mr.
-Cummings was there alone.</p>
-
-<p>“Sit down a minute, Tom,” he said. “I want
-to talk about that department of yours. It’s done
-pretty well this winter. Did you know it?”</p>
-
-<p>“I thought maybe it had,” answered Tom modestly.
-“I know we sold a good deal, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“We certainly did. And the profits in those
-goods are high, too. Now, look here, why don’t
-we go into the thing in earnest? I’ve talked to
-Mr. Wright about it and he’s agreeable. Why not
-put in a regular sporting goods department, eh?
-Aren’t there lots of things boys use in summer
-as well as winter?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes, sir! You see, they’ll begin playing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
-baseball pretty soon; and golf, too, although I
-don’t know if there’s much of that played around
-here.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course there is! There are three clubs
-within ten miles of town. What else?”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess that’s all, sir, in summer, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“You ought to know better than I, son. Well,
-could we sell bats and balls and golf things, do you
-think?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t see why not,” replied Tom eagerly.
-“I’m sure the high school fellows would get their
-things here if they knew we kept them.”</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll advertise then. We’ll announce in the
-papers that we’ve added a sporting goods department,
-eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, and I think it would pay to put a
-small advertisement in the <cite>Brown-and-Blue</cite>.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the school paper?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, the monthly. Fellows would be sure
-to see it and, besides, they like to trade with firms
-who—who patronise the paper.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right, we’ll do that, too. Now I’m going
-to put this up to you, Tom. You take right hold.
-Get in touch with the dealers, get their catalogues,
-find out their trade prices and make up a list of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
-what we want to start out with. I wouldn’t go
-in very heavy as to quantity just at first. We’ll
-find out how we stand, I guess, before we plunge
-very deep. But get a good assortment of stuff.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right. Now, another thing. After the
-first of next month you do nothing but sell, Tom.
-We’ll get someone to look after the windows and
-sweep up. Of course you’ll help Joe in the packing
-room, just as now, but you’ll be a salesman
-instead of a—well, general utility man!”</p>
-
-<p>“I—I’d like that, sir,” said Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Of course you would. You’ll have the sporting
-goods under your management, son, and we’ll
-see if we can’t make them pay. Of course we expect
-to make you a small raise, Tom. I haven’t
-talked that over with Mr. Wright yet, but I’ll
-let you know in a few days. We can’t increase
-your wages much just yet, but if you make good
-we’ll be fair with you.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you, Mr. Cummings. I—I’ll do my
-best.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s right. Do your best, Tom, and you’ll
-get on. It’s the boy who does his best all the time
-that won’t stay down, son. Just as it’s the fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
-who tries to get along by giving his employers as
-little as possible who never moves up. Remember
-that. Now you get busy and get your orders
-in. You can have two sections of shelves on the
-left of the door down there for your goods, and
-the cases in front. If you have to have more space,
-I guess we can find it. There’s a lot of that builders’
-hardware that would be better placed back
-here, I guess. Well, that’s all. Let me hear what
-you learn and keep me posted as to how things are
-going. But don’t bother me with questions, son.
-This is your affair. Make it go.”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a><br />
-<small>AN OUT-CURVE</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>The new department started up the last week in
-March, and none too soon. It had been a hard,
-cold winter, but its very severity seemed to wear
-it out along toward the first of that month and
-a succession of spring-like days turned boys’
-thoughts toward baseball. The advertisement had
-appeared in the March issue of the <cite>Brown-and-Blue</cite>
-and the daily papers had made announcement
-of the fact that Cummings and Wright had
-installed the most thorough, up-to-date sporting
-goods department to be found in the state. This
-was perhaps an exaggeration, but advertisements
-are prone to exaggerate. It was a pretty thoroughly
-stocked department, though. Tom had
-been both surprised and a little alarmed when the
-catalogues from dealers and manufacturers had
-reached him. There were so many, many more
-things to be purchased than he had dreamed of!
-He had begun a list and then stopped appalled by
-the magnitude of the order and the size of the total<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
-cost, and had gone to Mr. Cummings in perturbation.</p>
-
-<p>“How much? Over four hundred dollars?”
-asked Mr. Cummings. “Can we sell the things
-if we get them?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, yes, sir; I hope so. I think so. I don’t
-see why——”</p>
-
-<p>“Then get them.”</p>
-
-<p>And Tom got them, and the grand total of the
-investment was not four hundred dollars, or a little
-over, but nearly six hundred! And for a week
-or so poor Tom woke up at night bathed in a cold
-perspiration after a nightmare in which he saw
-himself buried under a deluge of sporting goods
-that no one would buy! It was an anxious time
-at first. Tom viewed the crowded shelves and
-showcases and felt his heart sink, for six hundred
-dollars seemed a frightfully large sum of money
-to him and he was constantly wondering whether
-the firm would be able to survive if the goods
-didn’t sell! He need not have worried about that,
-but he didn’t know it then.</p>
-
-<p>He had put in a line of baseball goods that was
-as complete as it was possible to have it. There
-were bats of all grades and prices, balls, masks,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
-gloves, mitts, chest protectors, base-bags, score-books,
-and a dozen lesser things, all more or less
-necessary for the conduct of the national pastime.
-But baseball goods were only a part of that stock.
-Golf made its demands as well, although Tom had
-held back there somewhat, and the wants of the
-tennis enthusiast had to be provided for. Then
-the captain of the high school track team had
-asked about running shoes and attire, and Tom
-had supplemented his first order. There seemed,
-in short, no end to what he must buy and keep in
-stock if Cummings and Wright’s was really to
-have a fully equipped department. And Tom
-groaned at the thought of what would happen
-when autumn came and he had to think of football
-goods! Already he had been forced to ask
-for a third section of shelves!</p>
-
-<p>But Mr. Cummings appeared quite untroubled,
-and so Tom dared to hope. Even Mr. Wright
-seemed undismayed by the crowded shelves and
-took an unusual interest in the goods, pulling
-them out of place—and leaving them out, too—asking
-questions as to purpose and price and
-trying Tom sorely at busy times. And then, quite
-suddenly, his fears vanished. A Saturday morning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
-came and, as it seemed to the anxious manager
-of the sporting goods department (that was
-Joe’s title for him), half of juvenile Amesville
-poured into the store. Tom was busy that day;
-busy and happy! Many of the boys came only to
-look and covet, but there were plenty of sales for
-all that and the day’s total footed up to forty-three
-dollars. After that Tom ceased worrying
-and within a week was sending more orders. The
-manager of the baseball team came to him and
-asked prices on new uniforms for the players. He
-found Tom at a loss, but a reference to catalogues
-soon put him in position to talk business and in
-the end, not then, but three days later, he began
-to take orders. Every fellow on the team had to
-buy and pay for his own uniform and, as Cummings
-and Wright’s had been declared the proper
-place to purchase—Tom having made a special
-price on an order of nine or more suits—the fellows
-soon began putting their names down. Grey
-shirts and trousers and caps, brown and blue
-striped stockings, and grey webbed belts comprised
-the outfit and the price was four dollars
-and a quarter. At first one or two fellows who
-had last year’s suits in good preservation held<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
-off, but Spencer Williams, the manager, bullied
-them, and, when Tom displayed one of the outfits
-in the window, they fell into line. There was
-scant profit on those outfits, but Tom called it
-“good business” and was satisfied.</p>
-
-<p>As complete as the stock was, Tom was continually
-having demands for things he hadn’t got. As
-when a fussy, grey-whiskered little gentleman
-came in and demanded “an aluminum putter.”
-Poor Tom didn’t know what an aluminum putter
-was, but he didn’t say so. Instead he regretted the
-fact that he couldn’t supply one just then and
-ended, after the fussy gentleman had fussed to
-his heart’s content, by taking the customer’s order
-for one. Later he dipped into a catalogue and
-found it listed. But Tom’s way made a friend
-of the golfer and he was a constant and heavy purchaser
-of balls and clubs after that.</p>
-
-<p>Later on orders came in frequently by mail
-from the towns around, proving that the department
-had acquired more than a purely local fame.
-In Amesville the grammar school boys followed
-the lead of their older brothers in most things and
-they were quick to emulate them in patronising
-Cummings and Wright’s. Cummings and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
-Wright’s, in fact, received from the high school
-a sort of official recognition. It was the first of
-the hardware stores to advertise in the school
-monthly, although another dropped into line later,
-and the students, following the <cite>Brown-and-Blue’s</cite>
-slogan, “Patronise our advertisers,” quickly
-adopted it as a place to make purchasers of not
-only athletic goods, but other supplies as well.
-Boys became so accustomed to going there that
-by the middle of spring the store was a general
-meeting-place, a sort of high-school headquarters.
-It was Sidney who first suggested to Tom that the
-latter offer to post school notices in the window.
-After that, and more especially when the athletic
-activities were at their height, one could always
-find one or more bulletins pasted against the glass
-there, such as, “A. H. S. B. A. Practice to-day
-at three-thirty sharp. No cuts.” Or, “A. H. S.
-T. T. Candidates for the Track Team report at
-four o’clock Wednesday.” Following up this
-idea, Tom began posting the scores of the baseball
-games throughout the country, both professional
-and collegiate.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Cummings had had a carpenter divide the
-window at the right of the doorway in two with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
-a neat oak panel and Tom had some twenty-five
-square feet of space therein in which to display
-his goods. At first Joe Gillig dressed the window
-for him, for Tom doubted his own ability, but presently
-the latter did it himself and managed to
-make a far more attractive display than Joe by
-not crowding his goods and by confining each week
-the display to some one branch of sport or some
-one article in variety.</p>
-
-<p>When, as happened late in the spring, a sporting
-goods house in the East sent a demonstrator
-to exhibit a home exercising outfit in the window,
-the store and Tom’s department in particular received
-a whole lot of free advertising from the
-papers, while the crowds that assembled daily to
-watch the good-looking young athlete in the window
-go through his motions with the exerciser
-made many other merchants along Main Street
-green with envy. But this was in May, and several
-things happened before that that should be set
-down here.</p>
-
-<p>Tom had hardly hoped for a raise of more than
-one dollar in his weekly wages and so when Mr.
-Cummings duly announced to him that beginning
-with the first day of April his salary would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
-just doubled Tom’s surprise was even greater
-than his delight.</p>
-
-<p>“It don’t seem as if I was worth that much
-yet, sir,” he said doubtfully. “It isn’t as if I
-was here all day, you see.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tom,” replied Mr. Cummings, “at the risk
-of giving you what you youngsters call a swelled
-head, I’m going to tell you that in the four or
-five hours you are here you do about as much
-work as a good many clerks in this town do all
-day. Besides, we’re paying you, partly, for that
-sporting-goods idea of yours. It was a mighty
-good idea and it made money for us, and I guess
-it’s going to make more. Besides that, son, you
-want to remember that summer is coming after
-awhile and that summer is a pretty busy season
-with us. Then you’ll be here all day and you can
-make up any time you think you may be owing
-us.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, it’s awfully good of you,” said Tom
-gratefully. “And I guess you’d better keep out
-a dollar now instead of fifty cents toward that
-pump. I won’t need the whole five dollars,” he
-added in rather awed tones. Five dollars a week
-seemed a veritable fortune to him just then, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
-of late his resources had been getting smaller and
-smaller and he had begun to wonder if he would
-ever get through the spring.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile, he had made many acquaintances
-and some friends. At high school he was a person
-of prominence. The older boys admired his
-pluck and industry and liked him for his quiet,
-contained manner, his cheerfulness, and his unfailing
-good-nature. The younger chaps frankly
-envied him because he was at home amongst such
-a raft of captivating things; bats and balls and
-mitts and rackets and running shoes and all the
-objects coveted by a small boy—and many a large
-one. Besides Tom himself, and, naturally, the
-partners in the firm, I think the person who took
-the most interest in the sporting goods department
-of Cummings and Wright’s was Sidney Morris.
-Sidney had watched and advised and even
-helped unpack the goods and arrange them on the
-shelves and in the cases, and all the time had been
-filled with a fine enthusiasm and optimism. Sidney
-jeered at the idea of failure and bewailed the
-fate that kept him from taking his place beside
-Tom behind the counter.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll just bet anything I could sell goods,” he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
-declared enviously. “Do you suppose Mr. Cummings
-would give me a place this summer, Tom?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, you’ll be going to the Lakes,” said Tom.
-“You told me just the other day that you would.”</p>
-
-<p>Sidney scowled. “I won’t if I can get out of
-it,” he said. “I’d a heap rather stay here in
-town and help you. I wonder if Dad would let
-me!”</p>
-
-<p>Handling the goods he did, it is not to be wondered
-at that Tom grew interested in athletic
-sports and events. Although he had never witnessed
-a baseball game, save such impromptu
-affairs as he had participated in with his mates
-at the country school, when the home plate was
-a flat rock stolen from the stone wall and the
-bases were empty tin cans or blocks of wood, nor
-seen an athletic meeting, nor had more than the
-haziest notion of what one did with a golf club,
-he nevertheless developed a keen interest in all
-these things and perused the sporting news in the
-papers with a fine devotion. At least he could
-talk understandingly about baseball and track and
-field sports, which was a handy thing, since the
-group of boys who got into the habit of meeting
-at the sporting goods counter in Cummings and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
-Wright’s were forever thrashing over those subjects.
-I don’t mean that he offered opinions unsolicited,
-for that wasn’t Tom’s way. Nor did
-he ever affect knowledge he didn’t possess.
-When he didn’t understand a subject he let it
-alone. If appealed to on a point beyond him, he
-acknowledged his ignorance. The result was that
-when he did say anything fellows listened to him
-respectfully, and it came to be a settled conviction
-that if Tom Pollock said a thing was so, why, it
-was so!</p>
-
-<p>It was the one big regret of Tom’s life in those
-days that he was not able to go out with the others
-and take part in their sports. He’d liked to
-have tried for the ball team, and seen what he
-could do over the hurdles or grasping a vaulting
-pole or putting one of the big iron shots. He’d
-even have liked to play golf! And all he knew
-about golf was that you hit a small white ball
-with a cruelly large-headed club, why or where
-to being beyond him! The nearest compensation
-came in the evenings after a hastily-eaten supper.
-Then he and Sidney, and sometimes a third or
-fourth fellow, took bat and ball to the vacant lot
-near Sidney’s house and had a fine time as long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
-as the spring twilight lasted. Tom had gone to
-the extravagance of purchasing for himself a
-catcher’s mitt at wholesale price, and Sidney, who
-played left field on the high school team that
-spring and fancied himself a bit as a pitcher,
-would station Tom against the tumble-down fence
-and “put ’em over” to him. Sidney had more
-speed than skill, though, and Tom had lots of exercise
-reaching for wild ones. It was good practice,
-however, for Sidney and much fun for Tom.
-When other chaps showed up one of them would
-bat flies or grounders to the rest. Sometimes
-enough boys were present to permit of what they
-called “fudge,” each taking his turn at fielding,
-playing first base, pitching, catching, and batting.
-Tom’s enthusiasm for a recreation in which the
-rest might indulge at almost any time but which
-was forbidden to him, save at infrequent times,
-worked for proficiency and it wasn’t long before
-he could knock up high flies or crack out hot liners
-as unerringly as the best. As for fielding, he soon
-acquired quite a local reputation, a fact which
-helped him in a business way, adding, as it did,
-to the authority on athletic affairs already popularly
-bestowed upon him.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>It was when he and Sidney were pitching and
-catching one evening that something occurred
-which had a far more important effect on Tom’s
-fortunes—and, for that matter, on the fortunes
-of the Amesville High School Baseball Team—than
-either of the boys could have imagined in
-their wildest dreams. They happened to have
-the lot to themselves that evening, none of the
-other fellows having shown up, and Sidney had
-been thudding the ball against Tom’s glove for
-some time. After every delivery Tom would return
-the ball at an overhand toss, as Sidney had
-instructed him to do. Presently, however, after
-a wild pitch had escaped him and he had had to
-chase back of the fence for it, he called to Sidney:</p>
-
-<p>“Sid, here you go. Watch my curve!”</p>
-
-<p>Twisting his fingers around the ball as he had
-seen Sidney do times innumerable, he shot the ball
-away. He had no more expected the ball to really
-curve than he had expected it to take wings and
-go over the house-tops. But it did curve, most
-palpably! Moreover, it settled into Sidney’s outstretched
-bare hands with such speed that Sidney,
-not prepared, promptly dropped it and shook a
-stinging palm.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Where’d you get on to that?” he inquired
-in surprise. “That was a peach of an out!
-Here, give me another.” And Sidney trotted to
-the fence. “Toss me your mitt.”</p>
-
-<p>Pleasurably surprised, Tom walked down to
-the trampled spot where Sidney had stood and
-tried again. He tried many more times, in fact,
-and all to no purpose. The ball went swiftly
-enough, but it went perfectly straight, and all
-Tom’s efforts to make it repeat its former erratic
-flight were in vain.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s funny, isn’t it?” he asked breathlessly
-at last. “It curved before all right. You saw
-it, didn’t you? Why doesn’t it do it now, Sid?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, you probably don’t hold it the same way.
-Try again.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom tried until he was out of breath and every
-muscle in his arm ached, and all to no purpose
-except to amuse Sidney.</p>
-
-<p>By that time it was too dark to see well and
-he gave it up for the time. When Sidney joined
-him he was frowning accusingly at the ball.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll make you do it again,” muttered Tom,
-“if I have to keep at it all summer. You just see
-if I don’t!”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a><br />
-<small>TOM WANTS TO KNOW</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>The next evening they were at it again. Sidney
-was able to pitch an out-curve and a drop and had
-besides what he called his “slow ball.” The
-latter, however, didn’t differ much, so far as Tom
-could see, from any other ball. Besides, Sidney’s
-slow ball was an uncertain affair since it didn’t
-always materialise when he expected it to. Of
-course Sidney was willing and even eager to show
-Tom what he knew, but, unfortunately, Sidney
-didn’t know a great deal about the art of pitching
-a baseball, and what he did know he found it very
-difficult to expound. He showed Tom how to hold
-his fingers around the ball to deliver an out-curve,
-but as the “snap” and the “follow-through”
-have an immense effect on the ball’s flight, Tom’s
-efforts weren’t very successful. Still, he did manage,
-after awhile, to impart an out-curve to the
-ball and got so he could do it perhaps four times
-out of ten. The other times the ball generally
-went wild. Sidney tried to tell him about the motion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
-of his arm and letting the ball slide off the
-tips of the first two fingers, but Sidney wasn’t very
-clear in his own head as to the philosophy of it,
-and so made a poor teacher. When Tom’s arm
-was tired, Sidney took his place and practised
-his slow ball with no great success and afterward
-tried to fathom the intricacies of the in-curve.
-This, though, was too much for him.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m going to get Thorny Brooks to show me
-how to do it,” he said finally. “He’s got a dandy
-in-shoot. You ought to see him pitch, Tom.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d like to,” Tom answered. “Maybe some
-day when you’re playing a game I’ll get out and
-see it. I wish I could play, Sid.”</p>
-
-<p>“I know. It’s too bad you can’t. You’d make
-a good player, I’ll bet. You can field and bat
-better than two or three fellows on the team
-right now. I don’t suppose Cummings and
-Wright would let you off in the afternoon, would
-they?”</p>
-
-<p>“Then I wouldn’t be there at all,” laughed
-Tom. “When do you fellows play your first
-game?”</p>
-
-<p>“About two weeks from now. First games
-don’t amount to much, though; they’re only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
-practices. You wait till we tackle Lynton
-High or Petersburg. Then you’ll see real
-games!”</p>
-
-<p>They went back through the twilight, passing
-the ball between them as they walked, Sidney progressing
-backward and having several narrow
-escapes from colliding with poles, hydrants, and
-pedestrians. Afterward they sat on the front
-steps until the chill of evening drove them upstairs
-to Sidney’s room. Then they “wirelessed,”
-taking turns at examining each other on
-the Continental code with tablet and pencil and
-then ticking off on the practice key:</p>
-
-<p>“Dash, dot, dash, dot, pause, dot, dash, pause,
-dash, dot, pause, dash, dot, dash, dash, pause,
-dash, dash, dash, pause, dot, dot, dash, pause, dot,
-dash, dash, dot, pause, dot, dot, pause, dash, pause,
-dash, dot, dash, dot, pause, dot, dot, dot, dot,
-pause, dot, dash, pause, dash, dot, pause, dash,
-dash, dash, pause, dot, dot, dash, pause, dash,
-pause, dot, dot, dot, pause, dot, dot, dot, dot, pause,
-dash, dash, dash, pause, dash, dash, dash, pause,
-dash, pause, dot, dot, dash, dash, dot, dot.”</p>
-
-<p>But Tom, who was listening to the clicking key,
-was unusually stupid this evening. I think his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
-mind was more on pitching a baseball than on
-telegraphy. He frowned uncertainly.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Can you pinch’ something,” he said. “I
-didn’t get it.”</p>
-
-<p>“‘Pitch,’ you chump! ‘Can you pitch an out-shoot?’”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh! Dash, dot—dash, dash, dash!”</p>
-
-<p>Sidney laughed. “No! Here, you try me.”</p>
-
-<p>At ten o’clock they performed the regular procedure
-of getting the time and then Tom said good
-night and walked home through the quiet streets,
-briskly because the evenings were still chill, thinking
-much of the way about that elusive out-curve!</p>
-
-<p>The next day he searched through the pile of
-little paper-clad volumes of the Athletic Library
-which were a part of his stock at the store and
-was lucky enough to find “How to Pitch a Base-Ball.”
-In the interims of waiting on customers
-he studied the book. But it didn’t seem just what
-he wanted. He got a ball and followed the directions
-given for holding it, alternately frowning
-over the text and his fingers, and wished he might
-pitch it and see what would happen. After awhile
-he quietly stole down to the basement, switched on
-the lights, and let drive at the partition that hid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
-the plumbing shop. If the ball curved he didn’t
-discern it. What he did discern was Jim Hobb’s
-black head stuck through the doorway in the partition
-and Jim’s incensed countenance.</p>
-
-<p>“Hi! What in thunder are you doing, Tom?”</p>
-
-<p>“I threw a baseball.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you knocked a wrench off the shelf and
-nearly bust my hand open. You get out of here
-with your baseballs!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom recovered the ball and returned upstairs
-disappointedly to find Mr. Wright fuming and
-fussing because Tom had left the counter and two
-small boys wanted to buy a catcher’s mitt.</p>
-
-<p>But that evening, after depositing a dime in the
-firm’s treasury as the price of the handbook, Tom
-took “How to Pitch a Base-Ball” to supper with
-him, propped it against the sugar-bowl and, since
-the other boarders had gone and he had the
-dining-room to himself, studied it assiduously
-from soup to pie. So eager was he to practise
-the book’s teachings that he took a car out to
-Alameda Avenue, instead of walking, and haled
-Sidney at once to the vacant lot, exhibiting the
-volume on the way. Sidney was not greatly impressed
-with it.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“I don’t believe you can learn how to pitch out
-of a book,” he said pessimistically. “You have
-to—to just keep trying.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course you do, but you’ve got to know
-how to hold the ball, haven’t you? This tells
-you how to do that, all right, only it isn’t
-very plain. I thought if you’d read what
-it said, I’d try and do it. You see, when
-I try to read and fix my fingers at the same
-time, I always lose my place and get all mixed
-up.”</p>
-
-<p>So Sidney good-naturedly found the instructions
-for pitching an out-curve and read them off while
-Tom, frowning intently, curved his fingers about
-the ball.<a href="#image03"> “‘Grasp the ball firmly,’” recited Sidney,
-“‘between the thumb and the first two
-fingers.’”</a></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
-<a id="image03">
- <img src="images/image03.jpg" width="400" height="600" alt="" title="" />
-</a><br />
-<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_119">“‘Grasp the ball firmly,’” recited Sidney, “‘between
-the thumb and the first two fingers’”</a></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Uh-uh,” grunted Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Hold the third and four fingers back toward
-the palm.’”</p>
-
-<p>“All right.”</p>
-
-<p>“‘Bring the hand up over the shoulder in the
-usual manner——’”</p>
-
-<p>“What’s the usual manner?” demanded Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I suppose just as if you were going to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
-throw the ball straight. ‘The back of the hand
-being turned away from you.’”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p>“‘In delivering the ball, bring the back of the
-hand underneath as the arm is dropped, letting
-the ball roll off the surface of the confining fingers,
-which imparts to it the rotary motion necessary
-to make it curve to the pitcher’s left.’
-That sounds crazy to me!”</p>
-
-<p>“Me too. But here goes!”</p>
-
-<p>The ball shot away and the boys watched it
-eagerly. There was undoubtedly a slight tendency
-toward an out-curve, but certainly not enough to
-fool the stupidest batsman. But Tom was
-pleased.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the idea, all right,” he declared jubilantly.
-“Now we’ll try it again.” Sidney obligingly
-recovered the ball, which, luckily, had struck
-the fence instead of going through any of the numerous
-holes in it. He tossed it to Tom, and Tom
-again carefully and thoughtfully arranged his
-fingers about it, poised it over his shoulder,
-and swept it forward. But this time something
-was very wrong, for the ball swooped
-down to earth some fifteen feet distant, struck<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
-an empty tin can, and bounded off into the
-street.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll chase it!” said Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“No, you stay there,” laughed Sidney, “and
-study about it. I’ll get it.”</p>
-
-<p>“What I’d like to know,” said Tom, when Sidney
-was back once more, “is what makes it
-curve.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, it curves because you hold it so it
-will!”</p>
-
-<p>“But why should it? Just because I hold it
-with two fingers instead of three or four, why
-should it curve to the left?”</p>
-
-<p>“Because when you let go of it you—wait a
-minute!” Sidney found his place in the book.
-“Because you ‘impart to it the rotary motion
-necessary to make it curve to the pitcher’s left.’”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, but <em>why</em>?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, shut up,” sighed Sidney. “You’re too
-inquisitive. It—it just does, I suppose.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing ‘just does’ without a reason,” replied
-Tom seriously. “And I’m going to find
-out why. Seems to me if I knew why a ball curves
-one time and doesn’t curve another, I’d get the
-hang of it better. Read that stuff again, Sid.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>This time—Eureka! A veritable out-curve
-plainly visible to the naked eye, as Sidney triumphantly
-announced. And after that two more
-in succession! And then something went wrong
-again and the ball acted quite foolishly.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re tired, I guess,” Sidney said. “Let
-me have a try while you rest up.”</p>
-
-<p>So Sidney “put over” a few out-curves, making
-the astounding discovery that he and the book
-were quite in agreement as to the manner of holding
-the ball—a fact which he had doubted before,—and
-subsequently tried a drop with fair success.
-That slow ball wouldn’t materialise this evening.
-Then Tom sent Sidney to the fence with the mitt
-and tried again and again to make that obstinate
-leather-covered sphere do as he wanted it to. Once
-or twice it did, but the trouble was that Tom
-couldn’t discover why it did; or why it more often
-didn’t. Still, it could be done, and, moreover, he
-had done it, and that was something! Sidney
-wanted him to attempt an in-shoot or a drop or
-some of the other deliveries set forth in the book,
-but Tom shook his head.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m going to learn that out-curve thing first,”
-he said doggedly. “When I get so I can do that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
-every time, I’ll try a new one. Some day I’m
-going to be able to pitch ’em all. First, though,
-I’m going to find out why—why——”</p>
-
-<p>“Why is a curve,” said Sidney helpfully.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s some reason. There must be. There’s
-a perfectly good scientific reason for it, Sid.”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh! What if there is? I’ll bet you won’t
-be able to curve a ball any better for knowing
-why,” jeered Sidney. “The way to learn to pitch
-is to pitch. Come on home.”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a><br />
-<small>TOM PLAYS IN A REAL GAME</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>That spring proved to be the pleasantest in
-Tom’s recollection. To be sure, lessons didn’t
-always go easily; in fact, Tom had a fortnight
-of trouble when the first lazy, warm days came,
-and only extricated himself from his difficulties
-by resolutely remaining at home in the evenings
-and studying instead of playing ball. A slack
-time in the affairs of Cummings and Wright followed
-the first spring months and Tom was several
-times accorded the privilege of taking a
-couple of hours off on Saturday afternoons to
-watch the high school team play. He enjoyed
-that immensely, got terribly excited—although I
-must own that he didn’t show the fact much—and
-“rooted” loyally for the Brown-and-Blue. The
-team that year was nothing to boast of, although
-patriotic youths did boast, for all of that, and met
-a larger number of defeats than was either expected
-or desired. Once Tom journeyed with
-some forty enthusiastic boys to Lynton, over in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
-the next county, and returned very much depressed
-in the cool of a June twilight. But there
-were victories, too, and by the time school was
-over for the year Amesville High had redeemed
-itself after a fashion by decisively defeating
-Petersburg two out of three contests. The fact
-that Petersburg was woefully weak that year had
-much to do with the result of the series.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Cummings seemed to sympathise with
-Tom’s yearning for the diamond and more than
-once suggested an afternoon off when the local
-club was to play at home. The senior partner was
-something of a “fan” himself and followed
-the fortunes of the Cleveland and other major
-league clubs with great interest. He and Tom
-soon got into the habit of discussing baseball
-affairs in slack moments and he always handed
-the morning paper to the boy after he had
-read it.</p>
-
-<p>“Fine game in Chicago yesterday, Tom,” he
-would say. “Thirteen innings without a run!”</p>
-
-<p>“Those White Sox have a great team this year,
-sir. I wouldn’t be surprised to see them win the
-pennant, the way they’re travelling now.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hm; yes, maybe. But Philadelphia will stand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
-a lot of watching, son. They made a bad start, I
-know, but they’re coming fast now.”</p>
-
-<p>And then, if there were no customers awaiting
-Tom’s attention, they would talk baseball for
-many minutes, Mr. Cummings leaning with an
-elbow on a showcase and gazing thoughtfully into
-the street and Tom tidying his stock behind the
-counter. Sometimes Mr. Wright would enter
-quickly and find them there, and then Mr. Cummings’s
-efforts to appear busy were very
-amusing.</p>
-
-<p>“I tell you, Tom, it’s a fine thing to be able
-to hit over three hundred, but if you can’t make
-time on the bases you might just as well bat
-around two hundred. Why, now you take——
-These are going pretty well, are they? That’s
-good. Better not let your stock get too low.”</p>
-
-<p>And Tom, bewildered at the sudden turn of conversation,
-would glance around to find Mr. Wright
-frowning from the doorway. It became an understood
-thing between the senior partner and Tom
-that when Mr. Wright appeared they were each
-to simulate deep attention to business!</p>
-
-<p>Tom finished his first year at high school with
-credit, attended the graduation exercises—he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
-already gone to a moonlight picnic given by the
-senior class—and thus, so to say, made his entrance
-into Society. He had been presented to
-numerous young ladies, always to his embarrassment,
-and had secretly wished he could dance. As
-he could not, he had watched the others rather enviously
-and had felt somewhat awkward and out
-of it. Sidney wanted to enlist the services of a
-girl friend in Tom’s behalf. “She’ll teach you
-in an hour, Tom. She’s a wonder at it! What
-do you say?” But Tom had drawn back in unfeigned
-alarm and shaken his head with a vigour
-that had left no doubt in his chum’s mind as to
-his meaning. All that summer one of the worst
-experiences that could happen to Tom was to meet
-on the street one of the girls he had been introduced
-to. More than once, discerning a young
-lady in the distance, he crossed over to the other
-sidewalk and became absorbed in the window displays.
-There was one awful occasion—Tom
-couldn’t think of it without a shudder for weeks!—when
-he had encountered May Warner three
-blocks from the store and, in some mysterious
-way, had suddenly found himself walking beside
-her along the street. How it had happened he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
-never did know, but it was certainly due to no
-effort on his part! The young lady, who was a
-very pretty girl of about his own age, had done
-most of the talking, Tom merely according an embarrassed
-“yes” or “no” now and then, but
-those were three of the longest blocks he had ever
-travelled. When they reached the doorway of
-Cummings and Wright’s, Tom fled without ceremony.
-Naturally he soon gained a reputation for
-bashfulness, and the girls, instead of taking pity
-on him and letting him alone, seemed to go out of
-their way to speak to him, getting a good deal of
-amusement from poor Tom’s unhappiness.</p>
-
-<p>Sidney was to leave Amesville for the summer
-the last of July, his often expressed desire to
-spend the warm weather in town failing to impress
-his parents. Tom knew he was going to
-miss Sidney a good deal and he looked forward
-regretfully to the latter’s departure. Once, in
-June, Sidney accompanied Tom out to Derry to
-remain over Sunday and enjoyed the visit so much
-because of the novelty of it that he declared his
-intention of going again. Star had a fine time
-then, receiving more attention and petting than
-falls to the lot of most dogs in the short space of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
-a day. Tom’s uncle was as gracious to the visitor
-as he ever was to anyone, but Sidney secretly
-voted Farmer Bowles “an old curmudgeon.”
-He got on finely with Aunt Patty, however. But
-for that matter Aunt Patty, in spite of her sharp
-tongue, would have been kind to a chimney-sweep
-had he been honoured with Tom’s friendship.</p>
-
-<p>The high school baseball team disbanded
-after school closed, for many of its members went
-away in the summer. But this year a few of the
-fellows who were to remain at home formed themselves
-into the Amesville Blues, filling the vacant
-places on the team with boys of their acquaintance.
-Sidney held his place in left field while he remained
-in the city, and it was Sidney who proposed
-that Tom be made manager of the team.
-So it fell to Tom’s lot to arrange games with rival
-nines in and out of town. This he did so well
-that the Blues played three times a week on an
-average and had a lot of good fun. They made
-short trips to neighbouring towns—the matter of
-railroad fares prohibited very long excursions—and
-once or twice Tom went with them. It was on
-one of these trips that Tom made his first entry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
-into real baseball. Tommy Hughes, who was the
-regular centre fielder on the school team and filled
-the same position with the Blues, developed a bad
-case of stomach-ache on the way to Union Vale—he
-quite frankly owned to having put away three
-chocolate ice-cream sodas and half a dozen
-peaches!—and, as from motives of economy, the
-team had brought no substitute along, there was
-only one thing to do.</p>
-
-<p>“I may be all right after awhile,” moaned
-Tommy, “but I couldn’t play now if you gave me
-a thousand dollars. Let Tom take my place,
-Walt.” (Walter White was captain and catcher.)
-“He can play fine, Tom can.”</p>
-
-<p>So Tom, squeezing himself into Tommy’s suit
-and donning Tommy’s blue stockings, went out
-into the glare of centre field and nervously waited,
-wondering whether he would muff the first ball
-that came into his territory. As a matter of fact,
-he did, allowing the Union Vales to tally two runs,
-but after that he had five chances and accepted
-them all, while at bat he made the very creditable
-showing of two hits for a total of three bases out
-of six times up. The Amesville Blues won that
-game handily, and Tom returned home filled with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
-the joy of victory and a new enthusiasm for baseball.</p>
-
-<p>The last week in July, Tom accompanied Mr.
-and Mrs. Morris and Sidney to the station and saw
-them off for the summer. Of course he was pressingly
-invited to visit them at the Lake and spend
-as much time as he could, and he even promised
-to do it, but in his heart he knew very well he
-couldn’t afford it even if the opportunity in the
-shape of a summer vacation came to him. He felt
-rather lonely and downcast for several days after
-Sidney’s departure. There were almost daily letters
-for awhile, and these helped a good deal. But
-presently the letters became less frequent and by
-that time Tom had in a measure reconciled himself
-to his friend’s absence. Business at the store
-grew brisk in July and remained so all the summer.
-Tom didn’t mention the subject of a vacation
-and didn’t really very much care about having
-one. The trip to the Lake to visit Sidney,
-although the latter continually reminded him of
-his promise and wrote glowingly of the good times
-they could have, was quite out of the question.
-The fare there and return was over thirty dollars,
-and, while Tom was putting aside a little money<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
-every week, he was far from being a Crœsus. He
-finally wrote Sidney to that effect, received in due
-time a very disappointed epistle in reply, and felt
-more at ease now that the matter was finally
-decided.</p>
-
-<p>The sporting goods department did very well
-in the summer. There was something very like a
-“boom” in golf at Amesville and Tom did a
-good business in golf clubs, balls, and supplies.
-He had ventured on a line of rather expensive golf
-vests and sweaters, very stunning affairs they
-were, too, and was relieved to find that he could
-not only get rid of those he had ordered, but that
-it would be necessary to order more. Joe Gillig
-had taken a two-weeks’ vacation in June, and Mr.
-Cummings frequently went away for week-ends,
-usually, as Tom discovered, managing to witness
-a ball game somewhere during his absence, but
-Mr. Wright and Tom stuck to the ship all during
-the hot weather. And it <em>was</em> hot that summer in
-Amesville! Tom ruined two boxes of golf-balls by
-exposing them to the rays of the sun that, intensified
-by the plate-glass window, caused the enamel
-to blister. He mentioned the matter in trepidation
-to Mr. Wright, the senior partner being out of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
-town at the time, and had visions of being told to
-charge the two dozen balls to himself. But Mr.
-Wright, frowning and “tut-tutting,” only said:
-“Ought to have known better, Tom; ought to have
-known better. Live and learn, though. Charge to
-profit and loss.”</p>
-
-<p>Late in August, Sidney began to write of coming
-home in a fortnight or three weeks, and about
-that time business slackened up a little. Mr. Cummings
-said one morning: “Tom, how about taking
-a vacation? I guess we can get along without you
-for a week or two after the first of the month.
-You haven’t been here quite a year yet and so
-we can’t give you full pay, but you can have a
-week with wages and another week without if you
-want it.”</p>
-
-<p>So Tom chose to limit his vacation to one week.
-He went out to Derry one Saturday evening and
-remained until Tuesday. By that time he began
-to miss the town and so he moved back. The next
-morning he dropped in at the store, talked baseball
-with Mr. Cummings and hobnobbed awhile with
-Joe, and then went out to loiter rather aimlessly
-along the street. While he was studying the enticing
-placards outside the Empire Theatre and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
-wondering whether to invest a dime and witness
-the moving pictures inside, someone slapped him
-on the shoulder and he glanced around to find
-Thornton Brooks grinning at him. Thorny
-Brooks had graduated from high school in the
-spring and was a big, fine-looking chap of eighteen.
-He had played with the Blues as pitcher, and Tom
-had become fairly well acquainted with him.</p>
-
-<p>“Going in?” asked Thorny.</p>
-
-<p>Tom looked undecided.</p>
-
-<p>“Come on! It’s my treat. They’ve got some
-dandy pictures this week. I’ve seen ’em once, but
-I can stand ’em again.”</p>
-
-<p>So Tom allowed the older boy to pull him up to
-the window and finally through the turnstile.
-They found seats in the back of the house, and
-Tom had his first glimpse of moving pictures.
-They seemed very wonderful to him and when,
-presently, a film showing a game of baseball at
-the Polo Grounds in New York was thrown on the
-screen he almost got out of his seat in his eagerness.
-Thorny, with the superior knowledge of one
-to whom moving pictures are an old story and
-who has seen the present programme before, explained
-to his companion in whispers.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“That’s Lewis at bat,” said Thorny. “Now
-watch. See him swing at that? Plain as day,
-isn’t it? There’s a hit. Watch him streak to first!
-That’s Murray fielding the ball in to second. That
-was a peach of a base-hit, eh? I don’t know who
-this chap is. He’s a big one, though. One ball!
-A foul! He’s got it! No, he hasn’t either! Look
-at the crowd in the stands, Tom. Now watch the
-fellow on first. There he goes!”</p>
-
-<p>“He’s out!” exclaimed Tom in a hoarse and
-agitated whisper as the runner slid into second
-and the shortstop swung at him with the ball in
-hand.</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir!” said Thorny triumphantly. “He’s
-safe! See that? That was some steal, eh? A
-close decision, though. I wonder who that umpire
-on bases is? I’d hate to be in his shoes, wouldn’t
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom agreed that he would, keeping meanwhile
-his eyes glued to the quivering drama before him.
-The batsman popped up a high foul, the New York
-catcher got under it, the batsman walked toward
-the bench in disgust, and the picture faded. Others
-followed, however, and Tom enjoyed them all
-hugely. It was long after noon when the boys<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
-emerged from the little theatre, bathed in perspiration.
-On the way back toward the centre of
-town Thorny said:</p>
-
-<p>“We play the Red Sox this afternoon over by
-the railroad. Coming over to see it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” Tom answered. “We got licked Monday,
-didn’t we?”</p>
-
-<p>Thorny shrugged his broad shoulders in disgust.</p>
-
-<p>“Why wouldn’t we? We had only six of our
-regulars. A chap named Squires or something was
-playing third and he never made a put-out once
-during the game. Say, Tom, why don’t you play
-in the field for us to-day? Then we can put Hobbs
-on third. Will you?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d like to,” said Tom eagerly, “if you want
-me to.”</p>
-
-<p>“Surest thing you know, kid! That’s all right,
-then. I’ll tell Walter. We’ll need to put up a
-corking game to-day if we’re going to lick those
-toughies over there. Don’t forget. Three
-o’clock!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom played in right field that afternoon, made
-no errors, and had three hits and one run to his
-credit. The Red Sox won their game, 7 to 5,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
-however. On the way back Walter White, who
-captained the Blues, said:</p>
-
-<p>“Can you go over to Lynton with us Saturday,
-Pollock? Wish you would. You played a dandy
-game to-day; didn’t he, Thorny?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sure! The kid’s a ballplayer, that’s what he
-is. He’ll come; won’t you, Tom?”</p>
-
-<p>“If you want me,” said Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“We sure do! Wish you might have played
-all summer with us,” replied White. “You’ve
-got a fine eye for the ball. That two-bagger of
-yours was as clean a wallop as I’ve seen for a
-long time!”</p>
-
-<p>“And that red-headed pitcher of theirs,”
-sighed Thorny, “was no cinch! I couldn’t find
-him at all!”</p>
-
-<p>“We’re going over by trolley at half-past one,”
-said White. “Meet at Main and Ash, Pollock.
-Don’t be late, will you?”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a><br />
-<small>THE BLUES VISIT LYNTON</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>The Lynton team still fought under the high
-school banner, although, like the Amesville team,
-it had been weakened by the absence of several
-of its good players. Few if any of the ten youths
-who journeyed to the neighbouring town that Saturday
-afternoon expected to win the game, for
-earlier in the year the Lynton team had defeated
-them quite decisively; and at that time they had
-possessed all the strength of the regular high
-school line-up, whereas to-day the nine was rather
-a makeshift affair.</p>
-
-<p>But, after all, the main thing was to play baseball
-and have a good time, and, consequently, it
-was a happily irresponsible group that took possession
-of the two last seats of the big yellow
-electric car at Main and Ash streets at twenty
-minutes to two and went whizzing across country
-at a good thirty miles an hour, swaying and bouncing
-along an air-line track that dipped into vales
-and climbed hills with a fine disregard of grades.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>There was Thorny Brooks, who pitched, and
-Walter White, who caught him, and Tommy
-Hughes, who played centre field, and “Buster”
-Healey, who held down first, and six other lads of
-varying ability, size, and age, including Tom himself
-and a grammar-school youngster named Peddie,
-who was a distant cousin of White’s and who,
-volunteering for the position, had been accorded
-the office of bat-boy and general outfield substitute.
-He was a nice-looking, fresh-faced kiddie of fourteen,
-whose pleasure at accompanying the team
-was very evident. Going over, White and Thorny
-Brooks arranged the batting-list, after much discussion,
-and Tom was given the honour of third
-place.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re a pretty good hand with the stick,”
-explained the captain, “and if Buster or I get
-on bases you may be able to work us along or bring
-us in. Did anyone bring a score-book?”</p>
-
-<p>George Peddie blushingly produced one from a
-hip-pocket and the batting-list was copied into it,
-no easy task with the big car apparently trying its
-best to jump the rails! They reached Lynton,
-an overgrown sort of village surrounded by truck
-farms, at a few minutes past two. A walk of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
-few blocks brought them to the field, where, as
-the game was not to begin until three, they put
-in a good half-hour of practice. It was a warm
-day, but not excessively hot. Already there was
-a hint of autumn in the intense blue of the sky
-and the fresher feeling of the little breeze that
-crept across the neatly tilled fields. After they
-had had all the work Walter White thought good
-for them they were called in and ranged themselves
-along the scarred benches that stood in the
-shade of a grandstand. By ones or twos or in
-little groups the spectators began to arrive, and
-at a quarter to three the Lynton team came on.
-Several of them walked over and shook hands with
-Walter and Thorny and others of the visitors and
-conversed a few moments. The matter of choosing
-an umpire was soon arranged, Lynton offering
-a choice of either of two high school teachers.
-Then Lynton took the field to warm up and
-Thorny, pulling on his glove and picking up a
-ball, called for someone to catch him.</p>
-
-<p>“You’ll do, Tom. Come on out here.”</p>
-
-<p>So Tom borrowed Walter’s big glove and stood
-up in front of the stand. At first Thorny’s
-pitches were easy to handle, but as he began to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
-warm up Tom found the ball more difficult to
-judge. Several times he was badly fooled by the
-pitcher’s elusive drops, while his out-shoot was
-so extreme that Tom more than once moved to the
-right only to have the ball bring him sidling back
-again. Thorny was amused.</p>
-
-<p>“Fool you, do they, Tom?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>Tom smiled and nodded. “I’m glad I don’t
-have to bat them,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>The Blues went to bat first and both Buster
-Healey and Walter White reached first, Buster
-on balls and the captain on a clean hit between
-first and second that advanced Buster to second.
-Then Tom faced the Lynton pitcher, who had
-something of a local reputation in his line, with
-misgivings. Down at second Buster danced and
-ran back and forth. At first, Walter took a good
-ten-foot lead. “Hit it out, Pollock!” he called
-encouragingly. “He hasn’t a thing on the ball!”</p>
-
-<p>But the Lynton pitcher had enough on it to
-puzzle Tom, and Tom, after knocking two fouls
-back of third, hit straight into the pitcher’s glove
-and the pitcher, whirling quickly, caught Walter
-a yard off the base. The next batsman made the
-third out and the teams changed places. Lynton<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
-didn’t even get a man to first in that inning, nor
-did the Blues do any better in their half of the
-next. In fact, nothing much happened until the
-fourth inning, when Lynton managed to get a man
-to second on a clean hit and then, with two out,
-brought him home with a teasing Texas Leaguer
-that fell midway between shortstop and centre
-fielder. So far Tom, in left field, had had no work
-to do, while at bat he had twice failed to make
-a hit.</p>
-
-<p>The Blues came back in the first of the fifth
-and, by a lucky infield hit that bounded meanly,
-placed a runner on the first bag. Tommy Hughes
-sacrificed with a long fly to right and put the runner
-on third. A moment later the score was tied
-when one of the tail-enders made a slashing wallop
-over second baseman’s head. At one to one
-the teams battled along until the seventh. Then
-ill-fortune took a hand in affairs. The Lynton
-third baseman caught a slow ball on his bat and
-smashed it straight at Thorny. The latter might
-readily have been excused for jumping away from
-it and leaving it for second baseman to handle,
-but instead of that he tried to knock it down—catching
-it was almost out of the question—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
-succeeded. But the ball caught him squarely on
-his throwing wrist and in the agony of the pain
-Thorny was unable to get it to first in time to head
-off the runner. Time was called while Walter
-White went down and rubbed the injured hand,
-and presently Thorny went on again. But after
-he had pitched a few more balls the wrist began
-to swell and stiffen and his offerings became very
-easy for the enemy. For the rest of that inning
-smart fielding delayed the inevitable, and, although
-Lynton got a runner on third and another
-on first, they died there.</p>
-
-<p>Thorny walked rather dejectedly to the bench
-and his team-mates clustered anxiously about him
-and viewed the swollen wrist.</p>
-
-<p>“Cold water is what you want there,” said
-Tommy Hughes. “Who’s got a handkerchief?”</p>
-
-<p>When one was forthcoming Tommy wet it at the
-water pail and bound it around the wrist.</p>
-
-<p>“It feels good,” said Thorny, “but I don’t believe
-I’ll be able to pitch any more, fellows. I’m
-awfully sorry. I ought to have let that pesky ball
-go by. It was coming about a mile a minute.
-Can’t you finish the game out, Buster?”</p>
-
-<p>“Me?” Buster looked startled. “Gee, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
-couldn’t pitch anything those fellows wouldn’t
-make mince-meat of!”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll try it,” said Walter doubtfully, “if you’ll
-go behind the bat, Buster.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then who’ll take first?”</p>
-
-<p>“Move Sanborn over from third and let
-Tommy take Sanborn’s place,” suggested Thorny.
-“Then put young Peddie in centre.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right. Can you bat this inning? You’re
-up after Tommy.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I’ll take another whack at it,” said
-Thorny. “What we’ve got to do, fellows, is make
-a few runs. They won’t do a thing to us now.
-No offence to you, Walt.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I know it,” said Walter sadly. “They’ll
-everlastingly knock me all around the lot. I’m
-not going to try to work any curves on them,
-Thorny. My curves are fine, only they don’t go
-over. I’ll give ’em straight balls and trust to
-luck. That umpire’s pretty easy on the pitcher.
-You’re up, Tommy. Go on. There’s one down.
-Try to lay down a bunt along the third-base line,
-Tommy, and run like thunder.”</p>
-
-<p>Tommy followed directions so well, even to
-running “like thunder,” that he got safely to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
-the first sack, the third baseman coming in hurriedly
-for the ball and heaving it over the first
-baseman’s head.</p>
-
-<p>“If he’d been watching he could have gone on
-to second,” grumbled Walter. “You’re up,
-Thorny. Send him along, old man.”</p>
-
-<p>Thorny had not made a hit so far. Realising
-that he would have no other chance to-day, he
-went very determinedly to the plate and swung
-his bat. For a pitcher Thorny was a very fair
-batter, although to-day he certainly had not
-proved it. But a hit was due him and he got it.
-Letting three offerings go by, two of them balls
-and one a called strike, he picked out the fourth
-and “took it on the nose.” Away it went into
-short left. Tommy scuttled to second like a
-hunted rabbit and Thorny made first. There he
-called to Walter and there was a conference.
-Then Buster was called to run for the injured one
-and Sanborn walked to the plate. The Lynton
-pitcher made three attempts to catch Buster off
-the bag, possibly in the hope that Tommy would
-attempt to steal third and get thrown out there.
-But Buster was too quick for a right-handed
-pitcher. Sanborn began to pop up fouls and put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
-every Amesville player’s heart in his mouth half
-a dozen times. But both catcher and third baseman
-just managed to miss the ball at every attempt
-and Sanborn, with two strikes and one ball
-on him, was still safe. Then came the signal for
-a hit-and-run and Sanborn swung madly at an
-out-shoot that cut the corner of the plate waist-high.
-By some trick of good luck he connected
-and the ball went flying toward first baseman.
-But between him and the oncoming ball dashed
-Buster Healey on his way to second and that was
-just enough to confuse the baseman momentarily.
-He got the ball on a high bound, dropped it, picked
-it up again, and raced for his base. Over at third,
-Tommy, never stopping, spurned the bag under
-foot and raced for the plate. Cries from the Lynton
-catcher and half the Lynton team filled the air.
-Too late to make his out at first, the baseman
-turned, recovered himself, and hurled the ball
-home. It went wide of the plate by five feet,
-Tommy was safe, Buster was on third, and Sanborn
-was sliding, feet-foremost, into second, where
-an agonised shortstop implored the catcher to send
-the ball to him!</p>
-
-<p>Amesville cheered and jumped in front of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
-bench and Tommy, patting the dust from his
-clothes and grinning, was thumped ecstatically on
-the back. When his team-mates had got through
-with him you couldn’t have found a speck of dust
-anywhere on him! There was still only one gone
-and runners on second and third. But the tail-end
-of the Blue’s batting list was up and the outlook
-wasn’t very bright. Still, sometimes the unexpected
-happens, and it happened to-day. Little
-Smith, the weakest batter on the nine, although
-a remarkably clever shortstop, connected with the
-first ball pitched and drove it far into centre field.
-He was so surprised that he just stood there and
-held his bat until Walter yelled to him to run.
-However, running did him no good, for centre
-fielder was easily under the fly and Smith was out.
-But Buster Healey was ambling home and Sanborn
-was streaking it for the plate. The ball began
-its homeward flight just as Sanborn rounded
-third and it was a narrow squeak for him. But
-he made it, or so the umpire declared, and that
-was enough. The score stood four to one now and
-Amesville dared to hope that, even without the
-further services of Thorny, she might hold her
-own and take a victory home with her. The inning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>
-ended a few minutes later without further scoring
-and the Blues put their new line-up in the field.
-Lynton howled gleefully when she saw Walter
-walk over to the pitcher’s box and pick up the
-ball. Young Peddie, almost trembling with excitement,
-scooted out to centre field and the other
-changes were made as Thorny had suggested.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps Lynton expected Walter to offer her
-something puzzling and so for awhile was at a loss
-to fathom his sort of pitching. At any rate, he
-managed to dispose of the first batsman easily,
-causing him to pop up a weak infield fly that settled
-cosily into Sanborn’s glove. But after that,
-the head of the Lynton batting-list coming up, the
-trouble began. Walter’s straight balls were fine
-for fattening batting averages! The only variation
-he attempted was in height, and he not always
-succeeded there. At all events, high, low, or medium,
-his offerings met ready acceptance and soon
-the fielders were very busy. Tom got his first
-chance in left field and made a brilliant catch after
-running half-way across the field. The infield
-scurried about like a lot of mice and the crack of
-bat against ball became terribly monotonous to
-the wearers of the blue stockings. Poor Walter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
-stood up to it bravely, a rather sickly smile on
-his face, and fed his offerings to the delighted
-enemy. Before anyone realised it the bases were
-filled. To be sure, there were two out by that
-time, but that didn’t deter Lynton any. A hit
-past shortstop, and a runner came in. An error
-by Sanborn at first, and another run trickled over
-the plate. A smashing drive that was too hot for
-third baseman to handle left men on second and
-first. But Lynton’s best batsmen had passed now
-and the trouble was over, as it proved. A nice
-low ball was selected by the batter and it went far
-and high into centre field. The Blues, watching,
-groaned. For in centre stood young Peddie, his
-eyes fixed on the arching sphere and eagerness
-and excitement in every line of his tense poise.
-Tom dug across in the hope of making the catch,
-but there was no time for him to get under it.
-Down it came, while the bases were emptied, and
-up went Peddie’s hands. Then the miracle happened!
-The ball descended squarely into the
-fielder’s glove and, to the astonishment and joy
-of the Blues, actually stuck there! The side was
-out!</p>
-
-<p>Peddie was a hero and every fellow said nice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
-things to him and thumped him on the back, just
-as they had thumped Tommy Hughes, and caused
-him to blush like a girl in pleasure and embarrassment.</p>
-
-<p>And Amesville, accepting that piece of good fortune
-as an augury, went to bat in the first of the
-ninth quite hopefully.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a><br />
-<small>“BATTER’S OUT”</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Amesville was still in the lead with one run, the
-score being 4 to 3, when Buster Healey strode
-to the plate with a confident swagger and tapped
-his bat determinedly. But pride goeth before a
-fall, and it took just two deliveries to dispose of
-the head of the Blue’s batting-list. A nice fast
-ball swept past him, breast-high, and the umpire
-announced a strike. Buster smiled scornfully.
-Again the Lynton pitcher wound up and sped the
-sphere forward and this time Buster liked what
-was coming and swung for it. But the ball was
-a drop and Buster’s bat slid over the top of it
-and the ball trickled some three feet in front of
-the plate. Buster lit out for the bag, but the ball
-reached it while he was still only half-way along
-the path and he turned disgustedly toward the
-bench.</p>
-
-<p>The Lynton supporters in the stand, a noisy
-two or three hundred in all, howled their glee and
-the umpire called “Batter up, please!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>That meant Walter White, and Walter, realising
-that in all probability his team would have no
-other chance to add to their total, took his place
-and faced the pitcher coolly and craftily. He
-meant to get to first somehow. Once there, he
-would trust to his speed or to Tom or Tommy
-Hughes to bring him home. The first delivery
-was wide of the plate, and Amesville, on the bench,
-shouted derisively. Walter swung his bat back
-and forth over the plate in an effort to disconcert
-the pitcher. Another ball went by.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the stuff, Walt!” called Thorny.
-“Make him pitch, old man!”</p>
-
-<p>Then came an out-shoot that went for a strike
-and a foul that fell harmlessly in the stand and
-put the score two and two. A trace of anxiety
-crept into Walter’s face as he awaited the next
-offering. The pitcher was very deliberate, wrapping
-his fingers about the ball with more than
-ordinary care and giving the impression that he
-was about to offer one of his most eccentric curves.
-But what really came was a fast ball, high and
-straight over the centre of the plate. That was
-enough for Walter. Around came his bat, there
-was a sharp <em>crack</em>, and the ball streaked across the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
-diamond, past shortstop, who made a gallant and
-desperate effort to reach it, and well into the outfield.
-Walter stood triumphantly on first and
-Amesville shouted joyfully.</p>
-
-<p>Tom knew that Walter would steal if he got half
-a chance and so he allowed the first ball to pass
-unconcernedly. It was high and wide, for the
-catcher expected the Blue’s captain to try for second.
-But Walter knew better than to try a steal
-on the first delivery. Then came a strike, a drop
-that settled down knee-high as it reached the
-plate. It was likely then, Tom reasoned, that
-the pitcher would pitch another ball, probably a
-wide one, in the hope of making him reach out
-for it. And Tom’s guess was the right one, for
-that is just what he did. And the score was one
-and two. On first base, Walter leaped and
-shouted, and from the bench came encouraging
-cries.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s up in the air, Tom!” “Wait for your
-base! He can’t put ’em over!”</p>
-
-<p>Then, as the Lynton pitcher wound up again,
-Tom got the signal from Walter. The ball floated
-lazily toward him, dropping slowly as it came.
-“There he goes!” shouted the Lynton infield,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
-and Walter was sprinting for second. Tom swung
-hard at the ball, missed it cleanly, and heard it
-thud into the catcher’s mitten. He knew enough
-not to step out of the way and so held his place
-stolidly at the plate while the Lynton catcher, tossing
-off his mask, side-stepped and hurled the ball
-to second. But there was desperation in Walter’s
-effort and he had hooked one foot into the base
-before the shortstop swung down at him. After
-that Tom was free to do as he liked and he refused
-the next delivery and the umpire endorsed his
-judgment by calling it a ball. He began then to
-hope that he might get his base as a gift, but with
-three balls against him the Lynton pitcher settled
-down and curved one over the corner of the plate
-and Tom never even offered at it. He felt rather
-cheap as he walked back to the bench under the
-hoots of the audience.</p>
-
-<p>“Hard luck,” said Tommy as he passed to take
-his turn. Tom seated himself and watched Tommy’s
-efforts. Tommy had a strike called on him,
-popped a foul back of third baseman, and then let
-go at the next ball and hit safely through second
-baseman, advancing Walter to third. But the next
-batsman was young Peddie and, after swinging<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
-wildly at the first three balls offered him, he and
-the side retired together.</p>
-
-<p>Lynton started their half of the ninth with a
-vast amount of confidence and a very evident intention
-of pulling the game out of the fire. Nevertheless,
-Walter managed to strike out the first
-batsman, and, with the weak hitters coming up,
-it seemed that possibly, after all, the Blues might
-win out. But the next man got his base on balls
-and jogged to second a moment later when a wild
-pitch got by Buster and rolled to the fence. That
-seemed to be Walter’s undoing, for after that he
-was as wild and uncontrolled as a hawk. With
-one strike and three balls on the second batsman,
-he made a desperate effort to put a low one across
-and managed to hit the man in the leg. By that
-time the stand was in an uproar and Walter began
-to show nervousness. The next batter hit
-safely and the bases were filled. Behind the Blues’
-captain the infield were doing their best to encourage
-him and pull him together.</p>
-
-<p>“Take your time, Walt! Lots o’ time! Let
-him hit it!” “You’re doing fine, old man! Don’t
-let ’em worry you! Put over a few; we’re here!”</p>
-
-<p>But Walter’s arm had lost what little cunning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
-it had possessed. Now and then he managed to
-get a ball over the plate, and when he did a rude
-Lynton batsman would rap it. Even the very tail-enders
-were hitting him now and in a trice the
-tying run came in and the bases were still full,
-with but two out. Walter faced the next batter
-desperately, got Buster’s signal, and let drive.
-It was a wild effort and only by dropping flat on
-the ground was Buster able to stop the ball and
-keep the man on third from racing home. When
-he got to his feet again he turned to the umpire
-and asked for time. Then, amidst the jeering
-shouts of the audience, he walked down to the box.</p>
-
-<p>“Look here, Walt,” he said quietly, “you’re
-all in. If we can keep the score tied up, we may
-win in the next inning. Isn’t there any other
-fellow who can pitch a little!”</p>
-
-<p>Walter looked hopelessly about the field and
-shook his head. “I don’t believe so. Most any
-of them could do better than I’m doing now,
-though, I guess.” He called to Smith and that
-youth joined them.</p>
-
-<p>“Smithie, can you pitch at all?” asked Walter.</p>
-
-<p>Smith shook his head. “I suppose I could shy
-the ball somewhere near the plate, but I guess<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
-that’s about all. Say, Pollock can pitch a little.
-I’ve seen him working with Sid Morris. He isn’t
-much, I guess, but he has something on it. Why
-don’t you give him a chance, Walt? He’d do a
-heap better than I could, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tom Pollock!” Walter shouted and waved to
-where Tom was sitting on his heels over in left.
-“Come in here!” Then, turning to Buster:
-“You go back to first and I’ll catch again. I can
-do that,” he added disgustedly, “if I can’t pitch.
-Say, Pollock,” he went on as Tom trotted up,
-“can you pitch any?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom hesitated, a trifle startled. “Why, I don’t
-know,” he answered doubtfully. “I suppose I
-can, a little.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, for goodness’ sake, go in and get us
-through the inning if you can. These fellows are
-weak batters. If you’ve got anything at all, you
-can fool them. Know any signals?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom shook his head. Walter turned his back
-to the enemy and walked Tom aside. “What
-can you pitch?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing but an out-curve and a straight ball,”
-answered Tom apologetically.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s good enough. Now, here,” Walter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
-laid a finger of his right hand over his glove.
-“One finger; see? A straight, low ball. Two fingers,
-a straight high one. Four fingers, a wide
-ball. Five fingers, an out-shoot. Get that? You
-watch my fingers before you pitch; see? And if
-you can’t make ’em out shake your head. Now,
-then, what are the signals?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom repeated them and Walter gave him an
-encouraging slap on the back. “You’ll do, Pollock.
-Don’t be afraid of them. Watch the signals
-and try to give me what I ask for.” And
-Walter walked back to the plate, tossed the ball
-to Tom, and donned his mask again.</p>
-
-<p>Tom wished for a minute that he were many
-miles away. The few hundred persons in the
-stand suddenly looked like a thousand and their
-derisive laughter and shouted comments made his
-ears tingle. Behind him, as he drew his cap down
-firmly and hitched up his trousers—not because
-there was any danger of their slipping down, but
-because he had seen Thorny do it—his team-mates
-spoke encouragingly and cheerfully.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the stuff, Pollock! Show ’em what
-you can do!” “Remember, Tom, we’re here
-right behind you! Take your time, old man!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The batsman stepped out of the box and Tom
-sent half a dozen balls to Walter to limber his
-arm up. In spite of an attempt to put them over
-the plate, they went everywhere and Tom’s heart
-sank as Walter reached this way and that to pull
-them in. If he didn’t do better than that against
-the batsman, he’d make a frightful mess of it!
-At last, “Play ball!” said the umpire.</p>
-
-<p>The batsman stepped back into the box, grinning
-and tapping his bat against the plate, and Tom
-looked to Walter for the signal, trying hard not
-to see the faces of the onlookers in the stand nor
-to hear their sarcastic comments and advice.
-Walter held one finger extended earthward under
-cover of his big mitt as he crouched behind the batter,
-the signal for a low ball. The batsman was a
-tall, weedy youth and a knee-high offering was
-likely to get by him. Tom gripped the ball, fixed
-his gaze on the lower point of Walter’s body protector,
-raised his hand well back and swung it
-forward. Walter leaped a yard to the right and
-saved the day, for the ball was intent on tearing
-a hole in the stand. Shouts and hoots and the
-thumping of feet came from the seats, and Tom,
-with sinking heart, tried to hide his embarrassment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
-by picking up a pebble and tossing it away,
-just as he had seen Thorny do. Then the ball came
-back to him.</p>
-
-<p>“Take it easy, Pollock!” called Walter cheerfully.
-“Right across now, old man!”</p>
-
-<p>But his fingers called for an out-curve and, with
-fear and mental trembling, Tom wrapped his
-thumb and first two fingers about the dirt-stained
-ball. Back went his arm overhead, up came his
-left foot, forward swept the hand, turning palm-uppermost
-as it descended, away went the ball,
-and Tom, crouching after the throw, watched
-anxiously. Straight for the batsman sped the ball
-and then, suddenly, as though responding to a
-sudden change of mind, it “broke” to the left,
-the batsman swung and missed, and Walter snuggled
-the sphere in his big mitt. It was the most
-pronounced break Tom had ever seen on his efforts,
-and a vast relief and encouragement came
-to him. If he could make that out-shoot go, he
-could certainly put a straight ball where it was
-wanted! “Strike one!” announced the umpire.
-The Blues broke into expressions of approval and
-satisfaction.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the stuff, Tom! You’ve got him swinging<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
-like a gate!” “He couldn’t see it, old man!
-You’ve got the stuff, all right, all right! Show it
-to him!” “Fine pitching, Pollock! Keep it
-up!”</p>
-
-<p>Walter signalled for a high ball over the plate
-and this time Tom sent it swift and true. The
-batsman stepped back, hesitated, and swung—and
-again missed!</p>
-
-<p>“Strike two!” droned the umpire, and, “Two
-and two, Pollock! Keep at him!” shouted
-Walter.</p>
-
-<p>A low ball followed and the batsman disdained
-it. Unfortunately so did the umpire. Walter
-looked his disgust. “Hard luck,” he called as
-he tossed the ball back. “It was a dandy, Pollock.
-Let’s have another just like it!”</p>
-
-<p>On the bases the waiting runners jumped and
-scurried and shouted, and back of first and third
-bases leathern-lunged coachers shot a cross-fire
-past Tom’s ears. “Some pitcher, what, Billy?”
-called the fellow behind third. “Used to pitch for
-the Gas House Team, he did! Watch that wind-up!
-Ain’t it a peach? He’s got everything there
-is—not!”</p>
-
-<p>“Here we go! Here we go!” chanted the fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
-at first. “Watch for a homer, fellows! Don’t
-tire yourselves running; just walk in! Now! now!
-now! Hi! hi! hi! There it is!”</p>
-
-<p>Then the coachers’ voices were suddenly stilled,
-for the batter had swung at an out-curve and
-missed it by a good three inches, and Tom Pollock
-had made his first strike-out! That was
-worth living for, that moment! Tom wondered if
-the others, the fellows about him and the noisy
-crowd in the stand, could guess the feeling of absolute
-rapture that was his as the bat swept harmlessly
-over the ball. Something was singing inside
-him and there was a delicious tingle in his
-fingers and toes. He had pitched in a real game
-and struck out a batsman! He felt very, very
-proud and happy just then, and not a little astonished,
-too. He wished that Sidney might have
-been there to see it!</p>
-
-<p>Then a new batter faced him at the plate, the
-ball was in his glove again, and once more Walter
-was stooping and giving his signal. The next
-batsman, perhaps from having watched Tom’s
-delivery, was more canny. Two deliveries went
-as balls. Then he swung and missed a high one.
-After that he spoiled two perfectly good offers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
-by fouling, and, with the score two and two, found
-one to his liking and cracked it far into centre
-field. In raced the runner from third, around the
-bases sped the others, and far and high arched
-the tiny ball against the blue afternoon sky. Tom
-turned and watched with his heart in his mouth.
-Out there Tommy Hughes was trotting confidently
-back. Then down settled the ball, up went Tommy’s
-hands, and the inning was over!</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a><br />
-<small>TOM TWIRLS TO VICTORY</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>The shadows were lengthening when the first half
-of the tenth inning began and were not much
-longer when it was over. The Lynton pitcher came
-back strong, and Sanborn and Smith and one other
-went out in order without seeing first base. Then
-the teams once more changed places, and Walter
-and Thorny walked to the base-line with Tom,
-counselling, encouraging, instructing.</p>
-
-<p>“Hold ’em this inning, Tom, and we’ve got
-’em. Our best batters will be up next time and
-we’ll get a run or two as sure as shooting! Just
-take your time and don’t get flustered, old man.
-And follow the signals.”</p>
-
-<p>Lynton’s head of the list faced him now and
-Tom knew that he would prove no such easy victim
-as the two last hitters. Walter, confident and
-cheerful of voice, stooped behind the swinging
-bat.</p>
-
-<p>“All right now, fellows. First man! Make it
-be good, Tom!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Tom followed the signals that Walter gave him,
-sometimes doubting the catcher’s wisdom, but always
-doing his best to send what was asked for.
-The Lynton batsman, however, was canny and experienced
-and two balls were called before he
-offered at anything. Then it was a deceptive out-shoot
-that went by at the height of his shoulder
-and he missed it. But after that Tom couldn’t
-find the plate and the batsman trotted smiling to
-first. Tom made one attempt to catch him off the
-bag, but throwing to first is something that requires
-much practice and Tom had never tried to
-before. The result was that he neglected to step
-out of the box, there were frantic and eager cries
-from the opponents, and the umpire waved the
-runner to second. Tom had made a balk. After
-that, only dimly comprehending in what way he
-had offended against the rules, he refrained from
-paying any attention to the runners on bases.</p>
-
-<p>The second batter fell a victim to a high,
-straight ball, which went up from his bat and
-landed in shortstop’s eager hands. The third man
-proved a harder proposition, for he knocked innumerable
-fouls all over the place, after Tom had
-wasted two balls on him, and refused to have his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
-fate settled. Eventually, however, he rolled a
-slow one toward third and was out at first. His
-sacrifice, though, had put the first runner on the
-last sack and Lynton in the stand chanted lustily
-in an endeavour to rattle the Blues’ battery. But
-Walter worked carefully and Tom, following instructions,
-launched a low ball that was called a
-strike, a high one, outside, that went as a ball, an
-out-shoot that found the batsman napping and
-went as a second strike, and a straight, fast one
-that cut the plate squarely in the centre, but was
-several inches too low. Then, with the score two
-and two, a low ball met the tip of the bat and went
-up and out into right field and straight down into
-the fielder’s hands, and another inning had passed
-into history and the score was still 4 to 4.</p>
-
-<p>Then Buster grabbed a bat and faced the Lynton
-hurler. The first delivery was a strike. Then
-came two balls, followed by a foul tip that smashed
-against the back-stop and made the second strike.
-The next offer looked good from the bench, but
-Buster disdained it, and when it crossed the plate
-it was so low that the umpire called it a ball. It
-was up to the pitcher then to put one across, and
-he did so. Or, rather, it would have gone across<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
-if Buster had not swung easily and sent it singing
-over pitcher’s head and into short centre for a
-base.</p>
-
-<p>The Blues on the bench shouted and cavorted,
-and Thorny hustled over to third to coach, and
-Tommy, back of first, pawed the earth and made
-as much noise as a steam whistle! Walter White
-was up and the Lynton pitcher for once looked a
-little dismayed and nervous. Buster caused all
-sorts of trouble on first and the pitcher wasted
-much energy trying to catch him napping. But
-Buster, although he took daring leads, somehow
-always managed to scurry back to safety before
-the ball slapped into first baseman’s hands. And
-all the time Tommy, leaping and waving his arms,
-shouted a rigmarole of ridiculous advice which no
-sensible base runner would ever have heeded and
-which Buster payed no attention to.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the boy!” shouted Tommy. “Down
-with his arm! Up with his foot! Slide! Slide!
-<em>Whee-ee!</em> Safe on second! Look out! Whoa,
-Bill! Now you’re off! Run, you rabbit! Whoa!
-Never touched him! Twenty minutes, Mr. Umpire!
-There he goes! Watch him, watch him!
-Hi! hi! hi! hi! Take a lead, Buster, take a lead!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
-He can’t throw this far! All right! Up again!
-How was that for a balk, Mr. Umpire? All right,
-Buster, he didn’t see it. Off you go. That’s good!
-Hold it! On your toes, boy, on your toes! Now
-you’re off!”</p>
-
-<p>And meanwhile Thorny, behind third, was adding
-his voice to the uproar and the Lynton pitcher,
-finally giving up Buster as a bad job, directed his
-attention to the batsman and sent in three balls,
-one after another! Then a strike was called and
-then there was another ball and Walter trotted
-to first and Buster cavorted to second.</p>
-
-<p>It was Tom’s turn again. As thus far he had
-failed to connect with the ball, and as he was a
-pitcher and therefore supposed to be a weak batsman,
-the Lynton battery made the mistake of trying
-to put him out of the way expeditiously with
-straight balls. Tom let two strikes get by him
-before he realised that he was being offered perfectly
-good balls with little or nothing on them.
-Then he took a good deep breath into his lungs,
-gripped his bat more firmly, and swung at the next
-delivery. Bat and ball met squarely and pandemonium
-reigned while Buster tore around from
-second and Walter made for third. For the ball,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
-arching gently, was on its way into centre field,
-quite safe from either left fielder or centre fielder.
-It was the latter who got it finally on the bound
-and hurled it back to second base. But by that
-time Buster had scored, Walter was on third,
-and Tom was doubling back to first base and
-safety.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps Tommy had wearied himself overmuch
-in the coacher’s box. At all events, he failed miserably
-to live up to expectations, popping a short
-fly into pitcher’s hands. Young Peddie was the
-next up and the inning was as good as over, or
-should have been. But it is the unexpected that
-makes baseball what it is, and it was the unexpected
-that happened now. In some mysterious
-way, after swinging wildly and hopelessly at two
-wide ones and by the merest good luck refusing
-to notice a drop that went as a ball, Peddie managed
-to get his bat in front of a straight high ball.
-The ball trickled off the willow and went midway
-between the plate and the pitcher’s box. Off raced
-Peddie toward first and in raced Walter from
-third. It was the pitcher who finally fielded the
-ball, although the catcher had started after it, too.
-Perhaps the pitcher forgot for the moment that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
-there were two out when he saw Walter scuttling
-to the plate. At any rate, what he did, instead of
-throwing to first for an easy out, was to make a
-frantic and hurried toss to the plate. The catcher,
-not expecting it, was out of position to take the
-ball, and, although he did manage to get it, he
-was a yard away from the rubber and it was an
-easy trick for Walter to slide around behind him
-and score.</p>
-
-<p>The game was won then and there, as it afterward
-proved. Tom reached third in the confusion
-and when Sanborn came to bat a minute later
-the Lynton pitcher and, in fact, the whole Lynton
-team, was up the air with a vengeance. Sanborn
-connected with an in-shoot and third baseman
-fumbled it. When he recovered the ball Sanborn
-was nearly to first and the baseman’s throw
-was hurried and wild. Sanborn kept on to second
-while first baseman chased back toward the fence
-for the ball, Tom scurried home, and young Peddie
-went to third. With the bases full, even with
-two out, the Blues’ chance of adding more runs
-to their tally seemed excellent. But Smith was
-over-anxious and when, finally, after spoiling four
-good ones, he started the ball away it went slowly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
-down to second base and Peddie was caught off
-the bag.</p>
-
-<p>It only remained now for Tom to hold the advantage
-of three runs, and this Tom managed to
-do, even though Lynton showed a strong disposition
-to “come back” hard in her half of the
-tenth. Two hits were made off Tom and a runner
-got as far as third. Tom showed unsteadiness for
-the first time and it took all Walter’s skill to
-pull him through a bad situation when, with only
-one out and two on bases, one of Lynton’s best
-batters faced him. But Fortune stood by the
-Blues. A long fly made the second out and let
-in only one run, and Tom and his team-mates
-breathed easier. Then, recovering himself finely,
-Tom set to work and disposed of the last batsman
-with just four balls, and the game was over!</p>
-
-<p>Seven to five was the final score, and the Amesville
-Blues, bat-bags and luggage in hand, went
-back to the trolley station with something of a
-swagger, followed by a throng of young Lynton
-citizens who tried to appease their disappointment
-by jeers and hoots. But the Blues could afford
-to be magnanimous and forgiving, and so they
-trudged ahead and paid no attention to their tormentors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
-and were soon in the trolley car, speeding
-back to Amesville.</p>
-
-<p>Thorny crowded in beside Tom and asked many
-questions. Where had Tom learned to pitch?
-Was he going to try for the high school team
-next year? Didn’t he really have anything besides
-that out-shoot? And was it a fact that he
-had never pitched in a game before? Tom replied
-frankly and modestly and told Thorny how he had
-acquired what little skill he had. And Thorny
-was both amused and admiring. The idea of
-studying the art of pitching from a book of instructions
-struck him as terribly funny.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, anyway,” he declared finally, “you’ll
-make a pitcher all right, Tom, if you just keep
-on with it. I don’t know how good your stuff is,
-because I didn’t stand up to you, but it seemed
-to fool those Lynton chaps pretty well, and you
-know they batted me pretty hard in the spring.
-But what I like about you is your action in the
-box. I’ll bet you’re a born twirler, Tom. You
-were as cool as a cucumber——”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, no, I wasn’t!” laughed Tom. “I was
-pretty nearly scared to death at first!”</p>
-
-<p>“But you didn’t show it! No one would ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>
-have known it! And that’s the best part of it,
-don’t you see? It’s easy enough to look cool when
-you’re feeling that way, but it’s harder than thunder
-to do it when your nerves are all pulling
-every whichway. I know, because I’ve been
-through with it. The first game I ever pitched
-was in my second year at grammar school. We
-had a little twelve-year-old team and used to play
-out by the car barns. I knew how to curve a ball
-about once in five times and the first day I pitched
-I was scared blue. But no one ever knew it, I’ll
-bet! And I pitched rings around the other team
-because I bluffed them into thinking I was a perfect
-wonder!” Thorny laughed reminiscently.
-“If you haven’t got the goods, Tom, the next
-best thing is to make believe you have, I guess.
-Only, at that, you’ve got to make the bluff good!
-If you try for the nine next spring, you’ll make
-it, sure as shooting. There’s only Pete Farrar in
-sight for next year and he isn’t much.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d like to play mighty well,” acknowledged
-Tom, “but you see I have to work after school
-and so I guess I couldn’t.”</p>
-
-<p>“Work be blowed!” responded Thorny as emphatically
-as inelegantly. “You’ll have to find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
-someone to take your job, Tom. We can’t afford
-to lose a good pitcher on account of a little work.
-Cummings and Wright will have to find someone
-else, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>But Tom shook his head. “I need the money,
-Brooks,” he said earnestly. “I couldn’t afford
-to give up my job. I’m sorry.”</p>
-
-<p>Thorny frowned thoughtfully. Then his face
-cleared. “Well, we’ll find a way around that difficulty
-when the time comes. Meanwhile you keep
-on practising. Don’t get stale, old man. And,
-above all, don’t overwork that arm. The trouble
-is you’re likely to strain it or something handling
-heavy boxes or doing some other fool stunt.
-You’ve got to take care of it, Tom.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll try to, but I don’t believe I can lift boxes
-with just one hand.”</p>
-
-<p>“You oughtn’t to be doing it at all. A fellow
-that’s got the making of a perfectly dandy pitcher
-hasn’t any business risking his whole future the
-way you’re doing.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom smiled. “I guess my whole future
-wouldn’t amount to much if I didn’t work,” he
-said. “I’d like mighty well to pitch for the school
-if they wanted me to; I—I’m sort of crazy about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>
-playing ball; but I guess I wouldn’t be much good
-if I didn’t eat sometimes. And I wouldn’t be
-doing much eating if I quit working.”</p>
-
-<p>“Haven’t you got any folks to look after you?”
-demanded Thorny.</p>
-
-<p>“Only an uncle. And he wouldn’t let me stay
-around here and play baseball without I was making
-my living besides. If I stopped working here,
-I’d have to go out home and work on the farm.”</p>
-
-<p>“He’s a funny sort of an uncle,” growled
-Thorny. “I should think he’d be proud to have
-you pitch for the high school team. Most uncles
-would, I guess. Anyhow, you keep on with it, Tom.
-And, say, if you like, I’ll show you what I know
-about it. I can teach you a pretty good drop and
-a slow ball. And that’s about all you’ll need if
-you use your head and change your pace now and
-then. After all, it isn’t curves that wins; it’s
-using your ‘bean’!”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d like very much to have you show me,”
-answered Tom gratefully. “Only I guess I
-wouldn’t learn very quick, and it—it would be a
-heap of bother to you.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, it wouldn’t. I’d like it. Only thing is”—and
-Thorny frowned thoughtfully—“I’ll be going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
-off to college pretty soon. Still, we might
-have a go at it Monday. And maybe we could get
-together a few more times before I leave. I’d
-like to see the team have a good pitcher to start
-out with next spring.”</p>
-
-<p>It was finally arranged that Tom was to call at
-Thorny’s house Monday after supper for his first
-lesson. “I’ll get a kid to catch you,” said
-Thorny. “Have you got a catcher’s mitt?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom hadn’t, but, after a moment of hesitation,
-recklessly promised to bring one. (After all, it
-would only cost him about a dollar at wholesale
-prices.) But Walter, who had been listening,
-came to the rescue by undoing his own mitt from
-his belt and passing it over.</p>
-
-<p>“You may take this, Tom,” he said. “I won’t
-need it until Wednesday and you can leave it with
-Thorny. How about the wrist, Thorny? Going
-to be able to pitch for us Wednesday?”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess so.” Thorny worked the wounded
-wrist experimentally and winced a little. “It’ll
-be all right then, I think. If it isn’t, Tom can take
-my place and I’ll play in the field.”</p>
-
-<p>“I couldn’t play Wednesday,” said Tom. “I’ll
-have to work. I’m only taking a week’s vacation.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Won’t they let you off for the afternoon if
-you ask them?” demanded Walter.</p>
-
-<p>“I—I wouldn’t like to ask,” replied Tom.
-“Not so soon after vacation.”</p>
-
-<p>Walter was mutinous. “What’s the good of
-being able to pitch the way you can if you don’t
-do it?” he asked. “That makes me tired!”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m real sorry,” said Tom apologetically.
-Walter sniffed.</p>
-
-<p>“I thought, anyway, you’d play in the field for
-us. Say, I tell you what I’ll do, Tom. I’ll go
-around and see Cummings myself. I’ll tell him
-we need you that afternoon. He’s a good sort
-and——”</p>
-
-<p>“I—I’d rather you wouldn’t, please,” begged
-Tom. “I’d play for you in a minute if I could.
-But they’ve been mighty nice to me and it don’t
-seem fair to ask for an afternoon off so soon after
-a whole week’s vacation. If I could, I’d be playing
-baseball all the time. I’d rather do it than—than
-eat, I guess!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, if Thorny can’t pitch Wednesday,” returned
-Walter doggedly, “you’ll just have to,
-work or no work. And that goes, doesn’t it,
-Thorny?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, we certainly want to lick the Springs
-team,” said the pitcher. “And, if I can’t pitch,
-I guess it’ll be up to Tom.”</p>
-
-<p>“I would if I could——” began Tom. But Walter
-cut him short.</p>
-
-<p>“You will, too, if I have to go down there to
-the store and drag you out,” he said positively.
-“Here we are, fellows! Let’s give ’em a cheer
-now just to show we’re here!”</p>
-
-<p>And so, as the car turned into Main Street, a
-vociferous greeting issued from the rear seats of
-the trolley, announcing to the world at large that
-the Blues were home again with another scalp!</p>
-
-<p>Tom went back to Derry that evening by a late
-train and John Green and Star were at the station
-to meet him with the buggy. And all the way
-home to the farm Tom regaled the hired man’s
-ears with a history of the great victory, John
-Green, whose notions of baseball were scanty and
-confused, listening with flattering attention, while
-Star, nestling between Tom’s legs, wiggled with
-ecstasy. On Monday, Tom went back to Amesville
-and to the store and his labours. And for
-a fortnight life was busily monotonous. He didn’t
-play with the Blues again, either in the field or the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>
-pitcher’s box. Thorny’s disability only lasted a
-day or two and he finished out the season for the
-team. The Monday lesson didn’t come off, for the
-reason that a driving autumn rain set in Monday
-forenoon and lasted three days. After that the
-occasion never occurred when both Tom and
-Thorny were at liberty, and some ten days later
-Thorny went off to college in Illinois, and Tom
-didn’t see him again until near Christmas time.</p>
-
-<p>And then, one fine crisp autumn day, Sidney
-came back and Tom went down to the station at
-noon to meet him.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a><br />
-<small>COACH TALBOT MAKES A CALL</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>It was awfully nice to have Sidney home again.
-Tom didn’t realise until now how much he had
-really missed him. And Mrs. Morris, too; and
-Mr. Morris to a lesser extent. They were all three
-sunburned and healthy-looking and very glad to
-be back once more. Mr. Morris left the carriage
-at his office and the others went out to Alameda
-Avenue together, Sidney rattling off a history of
-the summer with sparkling eyes, appealing to his
-mother every other minute for confirmation. In
-a lapse of Sidney’s chatter, Mrs. Morris told Tom
-how disappointed they had been when he had written
-that he could not visit them. “Sidney felt
-so badly,” she said, “that he immediately went
-out and tried to drown himself!”</p>
-
-<p>Sidney grinned. “The canoe went over,” he
-explained. “I was only about two or three hundred
-feet from shore and Mumsie was on the
-porch and she wouldn’t come out for me!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“But what did you do?” questioned Tom with
-wide eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I sat on the end of the overturned canoe
-and worked in with my feet. I’d lost the paddle.
-The trouble was there was a breeze off shore and
-it took me nearly half an hour to get back. And
-Mumsie just sat there and watched me!”</p>
-
-<p>“But weren’t you frightened?” asked Tom,
-turning bewilderedly to Mrs. Morris.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, no; I knew he could swim if he had to.
-And I thought it would teach him a lesson and
-make him more careful.” She laughed that little
-soft laugh of hers. “Sid was <em>so</em> angry when
-he got back that his teeth chattered!”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess your teeth would have chattered if
-you’d had to sit on the bottom of that canoe for
-half an hour with the wind blowing on you?” Sidney
-grumbled. “I call it a mean trick, don’t you,
-Tom?”</p>
-
-<p>“I think——” Tom hesitated, casting a doubtful
-glance at Mrs. Morris.</p>
-
-<p>“Well?” she demanded, her eyes dancing.</p>
-
-<p>“I think,” he went on boldly, “it must have
-been terribly hard for your mother to stay on the
-porch!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“It was, Tom,” she confessed. “I’m afraid
-I’d never have done for a Spartan mother!”</p>
-
-<p>They wanted Tom to stay and have luncheon
-with them, but he had to refuse and hurry back
-to the store, promising, however, to return for dinner.
-That was a very merry affair, that first
-dinner at home, and Mr. Morris, usually somewhat
-grave and abstracted, was so jovial and flippant
-that Tom quite lost his awe of him. Afterward
-the boys adjourned to Sidney’s room and had a
-regular “talkfest,” as Sidney called it. Of course
-Tom had to tell about the game with Lynton and
-Sidney heard it with dancing eyes and wished at
-intervals he had been there.</p>
-
-<p>“Think of you pitching against those fellows!”
-he exclaimed. “Why, they must have had pretty
-near their regular line-up, didn’t they? Say, I
-guess Thorny is right.”</p>
-
-<p>“About what?” asked Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“About your giving up that job and playing
-on the team in the spring. Why, we’ve just
-got to have you, Tom! Farrar can’t pitch
-for a cent and he’s too stuck-up to take advice.
-We need you, Tom, and that’s all there is
-to it!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“But how can I play?” Tom demanded.
-“Cummings and Wright aren’t going to pay me
-wages for being in the store only about two hours
-all day long!”</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll have to think of a way out of it,” Sidney
-responded untroubledly. “There’s lots of
-time. Besides, something may happen. Maybe
-a wealthy relative will die before spring and leave
-you a lot of money.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom smiled. “I haven’t any relatives, wealthy
-or poor,” he said, “except Uncle Israel. And he
-doesn’t intend to die, and I wouldn’t want him
-to.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pshaw!” laughed Sidney, “it’s always a
-relative that you don’t know about or have forgotten
-that does that sort of thing. Anyway,
-that’s the way it is in the stories!”</p>
-
-<p>School began a few days later and Tom went
-back to lessons again. He was a sophomore this
-year, and Sidney was a junior. Tom had more
-and harder work to do than last year, but it went
-easier, probably because he had learned how to
-apply himself to study. With the beginning of
-the school year football came into its own again.
-Sidney was out for his old place at right-end on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
-the high school eleven and, although now and
-then he allowed himself to be beguiled into pitching
-and catching with Tom, his visits to the open
-lot after dinner were usually made with a football
-tucked under his arm. He showed Tom how to
-punt and drop-kick and catch and throw, but
-Tom’s heart was not in it and all the time he was
-chasing the elusive pigskin his hands were itching
-for a baseball. Sidney, however, declared that
-there was plenty of time for baseball when spring
-came again and was so full of football that he had
-time for little else.</p>
-
-<p>At the store Tom had stocked up thoroughly
-with all the implements and apparel of the game
-and the sporting goods department did a rushing
-business in footballs, head-guards, shoes, canvas
-suits, shirts, and sweaters. The grammar school
-outfitted its team anew and Tom secured the contract
-for the togs, while from neighbouring towns
-mail-orders came in every day. In October he
-sent in his orders for winter goods: sleds, toboggans,
-skiis, snowshoes, skates, and hockey supplies.
-When, shortly after Thanksgiving, Amesville
-had its first snowstorm, Tom, with Mr.
-Cummings’s sanction, took possession of one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>
-entire window and stayed up half of the night
-dressing it.</p>
-
-<p>With packing cases and boards from the basement
-he built up an elevation at one back corner
-and covered it and the floor of the window as well
-with sheets of cotton-batting. Over this he sprinkled
-powdered mica. Four evergreen shrubs in
-tubs were borrowed and placed at the back.
-(“Evergreens from Davis the Florist, 163 Main
-Street,” was the inscription which adorned them.)
-Then Tom arranged his exhibit. A toboggan with
-a stunning red cushion was tilted down the incline,
-skiis and sleds were displayed enticingly,
-at the back, hockey sticks were crossed and pucks
-laid at the intersections, and a row of skates made
-a border along the front. Snow-shoes with brave
-scarlet tassels were there, too, while more colour
-was supplied to the frosty scene by gaudy toboggan
-caps, madly-hued Mackinaw jackets, and high-school
-and grammar-school pennants. Tom had
-had the idea of that window in mind a long time
-and so there was no hesitation when the opportunity
-came. Even so, however, it was after one
-o’clock when he went outside to stand in the snowstorm
-and take a final, admiring view of the result.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
-It was, he decided, well worth the trouble and the
-loss of slumber, and he put the lights out, locked
-up, and trudged home, through four inches of
-feathery snow, well content. That window display
-caused much interest and comment. Even
-the papers called attention to it, and as long as
-the snow lasted rows of small red noses were
-pressed daily against the panes while the eager
-eyes of small boys gazed covetously on the contents
-and youthful hearts doubtless longed for the
-advent of Christmas.</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile the High School Football Team was
-doing brave deeds and winning many laurels. Tom
-got an afternoon off when the final and most important
-game of the year was played and had his
-first real experience of football from the spectator’s
-viewpoint. He got awfully excited when,
-at the end of the second period, Petersburg was
-four points ahead, and far more excited when, just
-as the game was drawing to its close and defeat
-for Amesville seemed certain, there came a forward
-pass, a final desperate attempt on the part
-of the Brown-and-Blue, and Sidney, taking the ball
-far over on the side of the field, raced and dodged
-and tore his way through the Petersburg army<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
-and landed the pigskin seven yards from the goal-line!
-Nothing could stop Amesville then! Three
-downs took her across, Captain Neely kicked the
-goal, and victory perched on the waving brown-and-blue
-banners of Amesville!</p>
-
-<p>Once through with football, Sidney went as enthusiastically
-into hockey, mourning the period of
-inactivity that must elapse before Jack Frost took
-possession of the world and froze the ponds and
-streams. Sidney fulfilled his promise to show
-Tom how to use a hockey stick that winter, for the
-High School Athletic Association built by popular
-subscription a rink on a piece of vacant ground
-across the street from the school. Tom’s instruction
-usually took place at lunch hour, when the
-surface was so congested that real skating or
-hockey was out of the question. Tom learned
-quickly and Sidney declared flatteringly that
-he could make the team if he had the time
-for it.</p>
-
-<p>Christmas came and went. It was a very busy
-season for Tom and the sporting goods department
-did a wonderful business. A year ago he
-would have laughed at the idea of there being as
-many sweaters in the world as Cummings and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
-Wright sold that year in the holidays! Tom had
-had a factory turn out a brown coat-sweater with
-a broad blue band around the middle, and those
-went like hot cakes.</p>
-
-<p>The first of the new year Tom moved from Mrs.
-Cleary’s to a larger and more comfortable room
-on Turner Street. In many ways he was sorry to
-leave, as sorry, perhaps, as the Clearys were to
-have him. But his new abode was much nearer
-the store and the school, the house was a better
-one, and his new room well furnished. Besides,
-he could get his meals under the same roof, which
-was an advantage. To be sure, it was going to
-cost him well over a dollar more to live each week,
-but now he was receiving his full wages of five
-dollars, for the pump had at last been fully paid
-for and he held Cummings and Wright’s bill-of-sale
-for it. He meant in the spring to take
-formal possession of it and have it brought to
-town and stored in the basement of the store,
-where, perhaps, it might find a purchaser. At
-Christmas his employers had presented him
-with a five-dollar gold-piece and Uncle Israel
-had given him the same amount, although it
-was in greasy one- and two-dollar bills instead<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
-of shining metal. So, on the whole, he
-felt quite affluent as he took possession of his new
-room.</p>
-
-<p>It was on the front of the house and looked out
-into a quiet, shabby-genteel little street in which
-boarding-houses and small shops were indiscriminately
-mixed. But there were maple trees along
-the sidewalk and a good-sized yard at one side
-of the house, and, in summer, as he knew, for he
-had passed the house quite often on his way to
-school, beds of geraniums and coleus. The landlady
-was a grim-looking but kind-hearted elderly
-woman who supported a rather worthless husband.
-Mr. Tully was always, it seemed to Tom,
-looking for work and never finding it. He was
-a likable sort of little man, for all his failings,
-and he and Tom got to be good friends in the
-course of time. There were many roomers at Mrs.
-Tully’s and at dinner the long table held always
-a dozen or more boarders. The food was sufficient,
-but lacked what Tom called the “filling” qualities
-of Mrs. Burns’s viands. He often sighed for
-one of the latter woman’s beef stews with dumplings!
-At Mrs. Tully’s, if they had beef stew
-it was called something else and served in dishes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
-so tiny that Tom mentally referred to them as
-“sample trays.”</p>
-
-<p>The other members of the household were
-mostly clerks, many of them employed at Miller
-and Tappen’s. There was one, however, Mr.
-George, who had a more fascinating occupation.
-He was a private detective in the employ
-of the railroad company, although Tom did not
-discover this fact, which was not generally known,
-until he had been at Mrs. Tully’s for a month.
-Then it was Mr. Tully who told him. Mr. Tully
-liked to come to Tom’s “third-floor-front” in the
-evenings when Tom was at home and, occupying
-the easy-chair, which he grumblingly declared was
-the only comfortable chair in the house, put his
-feet on the window-ledge and fill the room with
-the strong, acrid smoke of his big brown meerschaum
-pipe. Somehow Tom didn’t mind his presence
-in the least and could study quite as well
-when Mr. Tully was sitting there in silent meditation
-as when he was alone. Mr. Tully was very
-fond of talking, especially of Mr. Tully and the
-things he had done in his time, but he never interfered
-with Tom’s studies.</p>
-
-<p>That winter was a mild one in that part of Ohio,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
-although there was one fierce blizzard in late
-February which marooned Mr. Cummings, Joe
-Gillig, Miss Miller, and Tom in the store all one
-night! It was not until five in the morning that
-the storm abated sufficiently to allow Miss Miller
-to get home and the men to wade to the restaurant
-across the street and eat what was their first real
-meal in fifteen hours! The snow stayed on the
-ground nearly a week and thereby prolonged the
-winter sports considerably. It was one evening
-at that time that Tom had his first breath-taking
-ride down Sumner’s Hill on Sidney’s toboggan.
-He didn’t forget it for a long while, for it was as
-nearly like flying as anything he ever expected
-to experience. They made three trips up the hill
-that evening and as many down, while a big white
-moon sailed overhead and seemed to look down
-companionably on them. Tom would have had a
-perfectly dandy time all the evening had not Sidney
-insisted on filling the toboggan to its capacity
-with girls on the second trip. Tom tried to escape,
-but Sidney insisted that he was needed at
-the back, and so Tom, with what little grace he
-could find, squatted behind May Warner, who was
-his particular detestation, and almost dropped off<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
-when half-way down the long, steep hill because he
-refused to hold on to May and there wasn’t much
-else he could reach!</p>
-
-<p>March came in like a lion, but soon tamed down,
-and a week of mild, sunny days set the boys thinking
-of baseball. Even before this the candidates
-for the high school team had been at work in a
-desultory sort of way. There was no real baseball
-cage at their command, but a long room in
-the basement of the school had been converted to
-their use by placing wire screens over the high
-windows, and here a certain amount of pitching
-and batting practice was gone through with. Owing,
-however, to the poor light down there, this
-indoor work could hardly be said to be very
-beneficial.</p>
-
-<p>The baseball leader this year was Frank Warner,
-brother of May, a senior-class fellow and
-not particularly popular. There was nothing
-much wrong with him, save that he was what the
-fellows called “chesty.” His father was president
-of the Traders’ National Bank, the largest
-institution of the sort in that part of the state,
-and Frank couldn’t forget the fact, it seemed.
-His “chestiness” made him scornful of advice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>
-and impatient of authority. But he <em>could</em> play
-ball; there was no doubt about that; and it was
-to that fact that he owed his election to the captaincy.
-He played second base and was the best
-batsman the team had possessed in many years.
-As a leader he was as yet an unknown quantity,
-and it was an open secret that the athletic association
-had hesitated some time before endorsing
-his election, which hesitancy was due to the well-known
-fact that he took unkindly to advice and
-criticism, and the fear that he might not get along
-well with the coach.</p>
-
-<p>The coach was a former high school boy named
-Talbot. He was no longer a boy, being a sturdy
-young man of twenty-six and a promising lawyer
-in Amesville. But Mr. Bennet A. Talbot’s practice
-was as yet not large enough to prohibit him
-from giving much time every spring to the coaching
-of the baseball team, an unremunerative task
-which he performed for sheer love of the game
-and loyalty to the school. When a youngster he
-had been known as “Bat,” a nickname derived
-from his initials, and the appellation still held.
-A better man to take charge of a group of boys
-couldn’t have been found, for he was still very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
-much of a boy himself in feelings, able to get a
-boy’s viewpoint, sympathetic, and enthusiastic.
-But Mr. Talbot insisted on obedience, and the
-school in general awaited with frank interest the
-first clash of wills between coach and captain.</p>
-
-<p>Both Thorny and Walter White were gone from
-the team this spring, but Walter was still in Amesville
-and took much interest in the team. It was
-Walter who continually insisted that Tom should
-come out for the nine and who finally brought the
-matter to the coach’s attention, with the result
-that Mr. Talbot called on Tom in the store one
-afternoon in late March.</p>
-
-<p>“Walter White,” he said, “tells me that you
-can pitch, Pollock. Now, we need pitchers the
-worst way this spring. We’re pretty nearly destitute
-in that line. What’s the matter with your
-trying for the job, Pollock?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom explained that his work prevented. Mr.
-Talbot frowned, just as Thorny had done, and
-was inclined to belittle the excuse. When, however,
-Tom mildly inquired how he was to earn
-his board and lodging if he gave up his position
-in the hardware store, the coach was at a
-loss.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“If we were a professional team,” he replied
-with a smile, “we could pay you a salary, but
-I’m afraid as it is we can’t. But I’m sorry.
-White says you’ve got the making of a good
-pitcher, and it seems too bad that we can’t get
-your help. I suppose there is no way that you
-could arrange with your employers to get off in
-the afternoons?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t think so, sir. You see, I’m only here,
-anyway, a few hours a day—except on Saturdays.
-Besides, Mr. Talbot, I can’t pitch much. I guess
-Walter was sort of—sort of exaggerating.”</p>
-
-<p>The coach went away dissatisfied, and Tom
-sighed regretfully for what might have been. An
-enticing vision of Tom Pollock, attired in the
-brown-and-blue of Amesville High School, standing
-commandingly in the pitcher’s box and dealing
-puzzling curves to a bewildered opponent, came
-to him, and he sighed again as he folded up a pair
-of running trunks and laid them away in their flat
-pasteboard box.</p>
-
-<p>Sidney evolved all sorts of schemes for Tom’s
-emancipation from labour, including a popular
-subscription to reimburse him for his wages and
-a direct appeal by the athletic association, backed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
-up by the school in general, to Cummings and
-Wright!</p>
-
-<p>“But I can’t pitch much, anyway!” Tom would
-declare, at last a bit impatient. “You seem to
-think I’m a wonder, but, shucks, I wouldn’t last
-two innings against Petersburg! All I’ve got is
-an out-shoot and a straight ball!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, a straight ball that goes about ninety
-miles an hour and crosses the plate so fast you
-can’t see it until ten minutes after! And you’re
-learning the drop, too! Of course, I don’t claim
-that you’re as good as Thorny Brooks yet, but I
-do say that if you came out and let Bat Talbot
-get hold of you you’d be a peach by the middle of
-the season. And I think it’s a shame you can’t!”</p>
-
-<p>And Tom thought so, too, although he didn’t say
-it!</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a><br />
-<small>THE PUMP CHANGES HANDS</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>In April, after the roads dried off, Tom engaged
-one of Malloy’s trucks to bring the pump in from
-the farm. It cost him ten dollars and he sometimes
-doubted the wisdom of it. Uncle Israel remitted
-the storage charge when confronted with
-the money.</p>
-
-<p>“Guess,” he said, “as Cummings knocked off
-four dollars and a half to you, Tom, we won’t say
-anything about storage. I guess you’re a fool,
-though, to pay those men ten dollars to lug that
-thing to town, because you’ll never sell it for
-more’n that.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom rather doubted it himself, but he went
-through with it and in due time the pump, a rather
-cumbersome and very heavy affair, was deposited
-in the basement of the hardware store. It was
-Mr. Cummings who advised the expenditure of
-further money in the shape of an advertisement
-in a morning paper and who helped write it.</p>
-
-<p>“I guess,” he said, “we won’t put any price<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
-on it. We’ll just say, ‘Cheap for cash.’ If anyone
-comes to look at it, you leave him to me.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom was very glad to, for he greatly doubted
-his ability to conduct advantageous bargaining.
-The advertisement ran three mornings a week for
-over a month and cost Tom five dollars and twenty
-cents and brought no returns. Nor did a card displayed
-at the back of the store, setting forth in
-Tom’s best lettering the fact that a rare bargain
-awaited some lucky purchaser, do any better.
-Tom had almost forgotten the existence of the
-pump when, one morning in April, he stopped on
-Main Street to watch the excavating for a new office
-building. The contractors had struck water
-at a depth of some eighteen feet below the street
-level and the workmen were wading and splashing
-about in a good twelve inches of it. They had one
-pump at work, but it was quite evident to the
-spectators that fringed the railing that the pump
-was making little if any headway. A middle-aged
-man with a perplexed expression emerged from
-the temporary office and, accompanied by a subordinate,
-watched the work for a moment. As the
-two men were within a few feet of Tom, he could
-not help overhearing what was said.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“That thing isn’t doing enough work to earn
-its oil,” said the contractor disgustedly, nodding
-to the pump and the long length of big hose that
-ran down to the water. “Brown and Cole say
-they can’t ship until next week. Funny thing we
-can’t get a pump nearer than Chicago!”</p>
-
-<p>“‘Next week!’” responded the foreman bitterly.
-“What’ll I be doing until next week with
-all this gang? I don’t dare lay them off. Stevens
-is after men for that new job of his.”</p>
-
-<p>“Bailing wouldn’t help much, I suppose.”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit, save to keep them at work. The
-water’s running in faster’n we can pump it out.
-Sure, it’s a regular spring we’ve struck, I’m
-thinking.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, it’s not a spring, Jim; it’s a subterranean
-stream that flows between that gravel and the clay
-underneath. With another pump I guess we could
-hold it all right. Meanwhile, though, we’re losing
-a couple of hundred dollars a day and getting behind
-on the contract.”</p>
-
-<p>“Subterranean it may be,” replied Jim disgustedly.
-“I don’t know if it is or not, but it’s
-holdin’ us back from the work. I know that.
-What’s the matter with gettin’ a lot of hand-pumps,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
-sir? The water company’ll be havin’ one
-or two, maybe, and the plumbers——”</p>
-
-<p>“Good idea, Jim! At least it’ll help and it’ll
-keep those dagos busy. If we’ve got to keep
-them, we might as well make them work. I’ll see
-what I can do.”</p>
-
-<p>He turned away and hurried through the crowd.
-But Tom was after him.</p>
-
-<p>“Excuse me, sir,” he said, touching the contractor’s
-arm. “But I heard you say something
-about a pump.”</p>
-
-<p>“Eh? Yes, what of it? Know where I can get
-one—buy, borrow, or steal?”</p>
-
-<p>“I—that is, Cummings and Wright have one
-for sale. It’s only been used twice and it’s in perfect
-condition, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thanks. I’ll have a look at it. Wish I’d
-known about it two days ago. What make is it?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom told him and he nodded. But Tom couldn’t
-answer the other questions the contractor put as
-they hurried up the street. In the store Tom left
-the contractor and hurried to the office after Mr.
-Cummings, who, fortunately, was in. A few words
-explained the situation and in a minute Mr. Cummings
-and the contractor were on their way downstairs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
-In an almost incredibly short space of
-time they emerged again, the contractor hurried
-away and Mr. Cummings, smiling broadly, sought
-Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re in luck, Tom,” he announced. “He
-jumped at it. They’re going to haul it away in ten
-minutes.”</p>
-
-<p>“He bought it?” asked Tom eagerly.</p>
-
-<p>“No, I made him a present of it,” laughed Mr.
-Cummings. “For sixty dollars.”</p>
-
-<p>“Sixty dollars! Why—why, it only cost that
-much when it was new!” ejaculated Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Sixty-four and a half, son. He’d have paid
-a hundred, I guess, if I’d asked it. He’s losing
-that much every day for the want of it. Oh, he
-was tickled enough to get it for sixty! There’s no
-kick coming from him. And I guess you’re not
-kicking either, are you?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir! I—I’m awfully much obliged. If
-you don’t mind, Mr. Cummings, I’d like you to
-take out that four and a half.”</p>
-
-<p>“Commission, eh? Nonsense, Tom; we don’t
-want that four-fifty. We’ve more than got our
-money back on it, son. You want to remember
-that that pump didn’t cost us sixty-four and a half,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>
-not by fifteen dollars and more. We’re satisfied.
-He’s going to mail his check for the money. What
-shall I do with it—endorse it over to you or give
-you the money?”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess—I guess you might just endorse it,
-sir. I think I’ll start a bank account with that!”</p>
-
-<p>“A good idea, son, a mighty good idea. Take
-it over to the Trust Company and they’ll give you
-four per cent. on it. Nothing like having a savings
-account, Tom.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom told Sidney of his good fortune at lunch
-hour and Sidney smote him triumphantly on the
-back, inducing a severe cough. “Now,” cried
-Sidney, “you can afford to give up your job and
-pitch for us!”</p>
-
-<p>“Do what?” gasped Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, leave the store and come out for the
-team! What’s to prevent you now?”</p>
-
-<p>“Say, Sid, how long do you suppose sixty dollars
-would last if I had to pay for my room and
-meals out of it?”</p>
-
-<p>Sidney’s face fell. “Well, I suppose it
-wouldn’t last very long,” he acknowledged, sobered.
-“Maybe—maybe three months. Then you
-could go back to work again.” He brightened.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>
-“What’s the matter with doing that?” he demanded.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t believe they’d take me back,” answered
-Tom with a smile for the impracticable
-suggestion.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, you could get a job somewhere else,” answered
-his chum easily.</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe I could and maybe I couldn’t. Anyway,
-I wouldn’t want to leave Cummings and
-Wright’s, even to play baseball! Who’d look
-after my sporting goods for me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, hang your old sporting goods!” said Sidney
-disgustedly. “If you had any—any patriotism,
-any right feeling, you’d come out and help
-the team, Tom! Why, say, you ought to see Pete
-Farrar in the box. He—he’s a—a fake, that’s all
-he is, a regular fake!”</p>
-
-<p>“Isn’t there anyone else?” asked Tom sympathetically.</p>
-
-<p>“Three or four,” said Sidney gloomily.
-“Bat’s trying his best to develop them, but
-they’re all pretty green. There’s Toby Williams.
-You know him, don’t you? He’s in your class.
-He’s the best of the lot. He pitched for the grammar
-school a couple of years ago, but he’s only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
-fifteen and hasn’t much on the ball. Oh, we may
-pull through with what we have, but we certainly
-need a real pitcher. The funny part of it is that
-Pete Farrar thinks he’s a regular wonder, Tom.
-He and Frank Warner are great cronies, you
-know, and maybe if we had a decent pitcher Frank
-wouldn’t let him into the box in a big game. He
-seems to think Pete’s all right. Has an idea, I
-guess, that as long as he’s playing second it
-doesn’t matter who’s in the box!”</p>
-
-<p>“Doesn’t seem as if Frank Warner could cover
-the whole field,” objected Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, he thinks—I don’t know what he thinks!
-Bet you there’ll be a mix-up between him and Bat
-Talbot pretty soon. Bat won’t stand much funny-business.”</p>
-
-<p>“When do you play your first game?”</p>
-
-<p>“Two weeks from to-morrow; Y.M.C.A. Team.
-They’ll beat us, of course, but Bat says it’ll give
-us good practice.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s a Saturday, isn’t it? I guess I’ll try
-and get out to see it. How are you hitting, Sid?”</p>
-
-<p>“Rotten! So we all are. Bat had us at the
-net over an hour yesterday and he was hopping
-mad at the way we missed them.” Sidney chuckled.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
-“He told Buster he swung at the ball with—what
-was it he said? Oh, ‘with all the ineffable
-grace of a derrick!’ Buster was so mad he almost
-swallowed his tongue trying to keep it
-still!”</p>
-
-<p>“That <em>must</em> have been hard for Buster,” replied
-Tom, with a laugh. “Guess I’ll certainly
-have to get out some day and see your wonderful
-team at work!”</p>
-
-<p>Sidney gazed at him reproachfully. “If you
-were half-way decent,” he said, “you’d come out
-and help instead of poking fun at us!”</p>
-
-<p>At Mrs. Tully’s boarding-house dinner was
-served at the fashionable hour of six-thirty, and
-quite often Tom had nearly a half-hour to wait
-after getting home from the store. Sometimes he
-made use of the interim to study the morrow’s lessons,
-sometimes he read the morning paper, turning
-first of all to the baseball and sporting news,
-and sometimes, if the weather was fair, he sat on
-the front steps and conversed with whoever turned
-up there. With the advent of warmer weather it
-was almost always pleasanter on the front steps
-than indoors. The grass in the little plot in front
-began to take on a tinge of new green and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>
-shrubbery that hid the party fence along the side-yard
-showed swollen buds. One spring-like evening,
-a day or two after the last recorded talk with
-Sidney, Tom came downstairs after washing for
-dinner and seated himself on the top step at Mrs.
-Tully’s. None of the other boarders were there
-and after a moment Tom, hands in pockets, possessed
-of a restlessness that made sitting still uncomfortable,
-wandered past the newly raked flower
-bed and into the side-yard. There was a long
-stretch of turf there, flanked on one side by the
-hedge and fence and on the other by a gravel walk
-which led along the side of the house, under the
-parlour and dining-room windows, to a gate in a
-brown board fence. This fence hid the back-yard
-where the clothes were dried and where the ashes
-were kept until, on Monday mornings, Mr. Tully,
-attired in blue overalls, rolled them out in four
-big galvanised iron barrels to the sidewalk, whistling
-“The Star-Spangled Banner.” Just what
-connection there might be between ashes and the
-star-spangled banner, Tom couldn’t make out; but
-Mr. Tully always whistled that particular tune and
-nothing else on such occasions.</p>
-
-<p>Viewing the stretch of turf which in olden days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
-would have made a fine bowling green, and the
-brown board fence, Tom had an idea. Ceasing his
-own whistling and bringing his hands smartly
-from his pockets, he turned and hurried up two
-flights of stairs to his room. When he returned
-he had a baseball in his hand. Measuring off the
-proper distance, Tom faced the division fence and
-began to throw the ball at it. It was rather a
-noisy operation and every moment he expected
-to hear remonstrance from Mrs. Tully. But he
-had thrown and recovered the ball a dozen times
-and his arm was getting nicely limbered up before
-anything happened. Then footsteps crunched on
-the path and Tom looked up to see Mr. George
-observing him with smiling interest.</p>
-
-<p>The railroad detective was rather disappointing
-in appearance, judged by one’s usual notion of
-what a detective should look like. He was tall
-and square-shouldered, had a large face with high
-cheek-bones and a prominent nose, and wore a
-black moustache that was clipped short. There
-were rather heavy brows over a pair of mild brown
-eyes and his cheeks were rather ruddy. Altogether,
-he looked prosperous and healthy and,
-above all, peaceable. He invariably wore dark<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
-Oxford clothes, but had a passion, it seemed, for
-loudly hued neckties. A rather heavy gold fob
-dangled into sight occasionally from a waistcoat
-pocket and a very big diamond ring adorned a finger
-of his left hand. At table Mr. George was not
-talkative. Neither was he taciturn. He never,
-however, made mention of his business. He and
-Tom always spoke when they met, but beyond that
-their acquaintance had not progressed. Now,
-though, he began conversation at once.</p>
-
-<p>“What are you pitching?” he asked, crossing
-the grass to a position behind the boy.</p>
-
-<p>“Just an out-curve, or trying to,” replied Tom,
-a trifle embarrassed.</p>
-
-<p>“Let’s see it,” said the other.</p>
-
-<p>Tom pitched and made rather a mess of it.
-“I’m not very good at it,” he murmured deprecatingly.</p>
-
-<p>“What you want is something to pitch across,”
-said the detective. “Wait a minute.” He set
-off to the back-yard and was soon back with the
-galvanised iron lid of an ash barrel. He set it
-on the grass some six feet from the fence.
-“That’s rather a big plate, isn’t it?” he asked
-with a smile. “Now let her go.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Tom, who had picked up his ball again, obeyed,
-and Mr. George nodded. “That’s not bad for a
-‘roundhouse curve,’ son. What you want to do,
-though, is to make ’em break sharper.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom viewed him in surprise and interest.
-“Can you show me how?” he asked eagerly.</p>
-
-<p>“I guess I might,” was the reply. Mr. George
-leisurely divested himself of his coat, laid it, carefully
-folded, on the grass and took the ball. “It’s
-some time since I tried this,” he explained, fingering
-the ball knowingly. <a href="#image04">“Now you watch, son.
-Better get behind me so’s you can see.”</a></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;">
-<a id="image04">
- <img src="images/image04.jpg" width="407" height="600" alt="" title="" />
-</a><br />
-<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_209">“Now you watch, son. Better get behind me so’s
-you can see”</a></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Mr. George drew his arm back, brought his left
-foot off the ground and swung it around his right
-leg, and pitched. Down came arm and leg together
-and off went the ball. Tom watched it. He had just
-begun to tell himself that, after all, Mr. George
-had pitched only the straightest sort of a straight
-ball, when the flying sphere “broke” abruptly to
-the left and downward and slammed against the
-fence so forcibly that it rolled half-way back
-again.</p>
-
-<p>“Gee!” said Tom admiringly. “That was
-some curve!”</p>
-
-<p>“No curve about that, son. That’s an out-shoot.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
-You see, your curve begins to break to the
-left almost as soon as it leaves your hand, but a
-shoot doesn’t break until it’s travelled part of
-the distance to the plate. Now you take an old-style
-in-curve, and that’s a good deal harder to
-pitch than an out-shoot, and put it over the inside
-of the plate. It isn’t hard for the batter because
-an in-curve never has as much on it as an out.
-But you make that in-curve an in-shoot, and it’s a
-puzzler. There was a fellow pitched with us two
-seasons down in Montgomery and he had an in-shoot
-that didn’t begin to break until it was right
-up to the plate. It was a dandy, I tell you. I
-tried to get him to show me that ball and he was
-willing enough, but he just couldn’t seem to explain
-it. I never could get it right.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did you—did you use to play baseball?”
-asked Tom with a touch of awe in his voice.</p>
-
-<p>The detective nodded. “Eight years at it—Southern,
-Central, and Texas leagues. That was
-’most ten years ago now. There wasn’t anything
-in it and I quit before they threw me into the real
-bush. It isn’t bad as long as you’re young, but
-baseball isn’t any business for a man after thirty.
-And I’m getting on toward forty-five now. Let’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
-see your ball again. Here’s a drop that used to
-fool ’em some.”</p>
-
-<p>And it certainly was a drop! Mr. George wasn’t
-satisfied with it, explaining that his arm was all
-out of practice, but it almost made Tom’s eyes pop
-out! And the remarkable thing about the detective’s
-pitching was that he did it with seemingly
-no effort and the ball simply flew through the
-air! Tom wondered what would happen to the
-fence if he really tried to pitch a swift one!</p>
-
-<p>“I wish I could pitch like that,” he said enviously.
-“Or half as good.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe you will when you’ve been at it
-longer,” responded Mr. George. “Take it from
-me, son, there isn’t anything you can’t teach your
-muscles to do if you go at it right. Haven’t got
-a mitt, have you?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“I was going to say, if you had, I’d catch a few
-for you. I’ll get one to-morrow and you and I’ll
-have some fun out here. I haven’t held a baseball
-for two years and it feels good.” He swung his
-arm around and made a grimace. “Stiff as a
-crutch,” he said. “Let’s see yours, son.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom stepped over and the detective ran his fingers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
-up and down the boy’s arm and around his
-shoulder. Then he nodded approvingly. “You
-got a start, all right,” he said. “You got good
-stuff up there at the shoulder, and that’s where
-you need it. Done much of it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Pitching? No, sir, not much. I just started
-last spring. A fellow and I—he plays with the
-high school team—we used to pitch and catch
-sometimes of an evening. Then this summer I
-pitched in a couple of games for the Blues. They
-said I didn’t do so badly.”</p>
-
-<p>“Want to learn more about it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, very much. I tried to teach myself
-out of a book, but it’s pretty hard.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. George sniffed. “There isn’t any book
-that’ll teach you, son. But I can. And I will if
-you want me to. There’s the dinner gong. To-morrow
-I’ll buy us a catcher’s mitt and we’ll have
-some fun, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, thank you. I wish, though, you’d let
-me buy the mitt. You see, Mr. George, I can get
-it at wholesale price.”</p>
-
-<p>“That so?” The detective pulled a roll of
-money from a pocket and peeled off a five-dollar
-bill. “Then you get me one, a good one, son.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“It won’t be more than a dollar and seventy-five
-cents, I guess,” Tom objected.</p>
-
-<p>“All right, but have it good. And if there’s
-anything left you bring along a mask. Might as
-well do this thing right, eh? And we better have
-a new ball, too. This one’s getting played out.
-Here, maybe you’ll need some more money.” And
-Mr. George put his hand to his pocket again.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve got enough, sir, I think,” said Tom.
-“Anyway, it’s only fair for me to pay for something.
-You see, it’s me—I who am going to get
-the good of it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” replied the detective, slapping
-Tom on the shoulder as they passed around
-to the doorway. “I expect to get a bunch of fun
-out of it myself. And I guess it’ll do me good to
-limber some of the splints out of my arm. Anyway,
-if you don’t have enough, you let me know
-to-morrow. Practice is at six sharp, son!”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a><br />
-<small>THE DETECTIVE DONS A MASK</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Almost every day after that Tom and Mr. George
-spent the half-hour preceding dinner in the side-yard.
-Frequently the half-hour lengthened into
-three-quarters and the two had to brave Mrs.
-Tully’s coldly disapproving glances when they
-sought the table. Tom, though, was too happy
-to mind, while Mr. George seemed always quite
-unconscious of having transgressed a rule of the
-house. The more Tom saw of the detective the
-better he liked him. When they were together Mr.
-George—Tom discovered in time that his full name
-was Benjamin Culloden George—forgot that he
-was nearly forty-five, and made Tom forget it,
-too. He was jolly and full of jokes, infinitely patient
-while instructing Tom in the mysteries of
-the in-shoot or the drop ball, and a veritable mine
-of anecdotes of the playing field. And, best of all,
-he was able to impart what he knew about pitching
-a baseball, as able to teach as Tom was eager
-to learn. And Tom learned, too, putting his whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
-heart and soul into mastering the intricacies of
-pitching. Once Mr. George said to him:</p>
-
-<p>“One thing I like about you, Tom, is you don’t
-say you understand when you don’t. You make
-me tell it all over again and then you go and do
-it. Lots of folks will say they know what you
-mean and then show that they haven’t got any
-idea!”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess I’m kind of stupid about that wrist
-work,” said Tom apologetically. “I—I don’t get
-the hang of it very well.”</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t you worry, it’ll come to you. It just
-takes practice, lots of practice. After awhile
-you’ll be snapping the ball away without knowing
-you’re doing it. Now you try again. Never mind
-about putting it over the plate; just throw at the
-fence. Snap her under now! That was better.
-Oh, never mind where the ball went. We don’t
-care about that—yet. See what I mean about the
-snap, don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“I see what you mean, all right, but I can’t get
-it—yet.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the idea! You can’t get it—<em>yet</em>. That
-means that you know you will get it finally, eh?
-Sure! Now, always remember that a ball curves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
-the way you pinch it. It’s that pinch that gives
-the drag to it as it leaves your hand. The more
-drag the more spin, and the more spin the more
-curve. Only you don’t ever want to pitch an in-curve,
-Tom. You see, you’ve got to start it off
-with a round-arm delivery and that puts the batter
-on every time. He knows what’s coming, do you
-see? And he lams it! But if you give him an
-in-shoot he can’t tell what it’s going to be because
-an in-shoot starts off like any other ball.
-Curve ’em wide to the out, if you want to, but
-don’t do any ‘barrel-hoops’ on the in. One
-more now.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. George was very strict about one thing,
-and that was not allowing Tom to overwork his
-arm. “Stop just as soon as it begins to heat
-up,” he would say. Often Tom begged to be allowed
-to continue when that condition of affairs
-was reached, but the detective was firm on that
-point. “Nothing doing, Tom. That’ll be all for
-this time. You can’t afford to monkey with a
-good arm like that.”</p>
-
-<p>By the first week in May, Tom knew how to
-pitch an out-shoot and in-shoot and a drop. I
-say he knew how, but I don’t affirm that he always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
-succeeded, for he didn’t. This discouraged
-him at times, but Mr. George only laughed.
-“Why, Tom, if you could do what you wanted
-to with that ball every time, you’d be a—a sort
-of infant prodigy that you read about! How old
-are you, anyway?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sixteen and a half.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, that half may help some,” laughed the
-detective. “But you’ve got several years ahead
-of you yet before you’ll reach top-form, son.
-Why, I couldn’t do as well as you’re doing when
-I was seventeen!”</p>
-
-<p>At which Tom took comfort. Tom had read
-or heard of many more deliveries, such as the
-“fade-away,” the “knuckle-ball,” the “floater,”
-and the “spit-ball,” and was eager to have Mr.
-George show him about them. But his teacher
-put it off. “I can’t pitch a ‘spit-ball’ myself,
-Tom,” he said. “That came along after I quit
-the game. I know how it’s done and some day
-we’ll have a try at it. Same way with the
-‘knuckle-ball’ and a lot of the other ‘freaks.’
-What you want to do now is to learn control.
-You’ve got enough to start on; three good breaks
-and a straight ball is enough for any pitcher.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
-After that it’s just a matter of putting the ball
-where you want it, fooling the batter, teasing him
-with the wide ones, sneaking in the good ones
-under his nose, changing your pace, and having
-him hit too soon. Oh, there’s a lot in the pitching
-game besides just curving the pellet, son! Why,
-I knew a fellow once, Purdy of the old Bristol team
-it was, who didn’t have a thing on the ball except
-an out-shoot, ‘two fingers only’ we used to say.
-Of course he knew others, but they wouldn’t work
-for him. Well, that old side-wheeler used to go
-into the box and have them eating out of his hand!
-Yes, sir, he just used his head, Gus did, and the
-way he’d serve ’em what they didn’t want and
-make ’em bite at ’em was a caution! Why, fellows
-used to say that they’d rather go up against
-almost any of the big-uns than Gus Purdy when
-Gus was really pitching! You want to remember
-that there’s all kinds of hitters in the world:
-hitters that want them high and hitters that
-like ’em low and hitters that will reach for
-’em and hitters that won’t. And here’s
-another thing, Tom. Bear in mind that the plate
-is only a pretty narrow contrivance after all,
-but that the distance from a man’s knee to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
-his shoulder is something like three feet. Get
-that?”</p>
-
-<p>“You mean it’s better to pitch for up and down
-position than for—for——”</p>
-
-<p>“Right-o! You get me! You’ve got more room
-up and down than you have across. Learn to
-put them just about where you want to from knee
-to shoulder. That worries a batter more than having
-’em come to him near or wide. But you’ve
-got to study your man, son. It always seemed
-to me that the best of the pitchers in my time
-were sort of mind readers. Some of ’em just
-seemed to know what the batter was thinking
-and what he was looking for. Yes, sir, there’s a
-lot more to it than just pitching the ball!”</p>
-
-<p>Frequently, Tom went down to Mr. George’s
-room on the second floor and listened breathlessly
-while the former minor leaguer told of exciting
-battles on the diamond or of queer experiences he
-had met with. There was always much practical
-advice mixed up with the stories, and this Tom
-imbibed thirstily. How or when his pitching ability
-was to prove of use to him he did not know,
-for there was certainly no present prospect; but
-his enthusiasm never waned. Day after day, save<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
-such times as the detective was away or Tom
-was detained late at the store, the two spent the
-half-hour before dinner in the side-yard. There,
-masked and mitted, Mr. George stood behind the
-plate—a slab of wood of the correct dimensions
-had long ago taken the place of the barrel lid—and
-caught the balls that Tom hurled to him.
-Sometimes, and this was when Sidney had gone
-to some party or entertainment to which all his
-persuasion failed to entice Tom along, there was
-an extra session after dinner. On such occasions
-there was invariably an interested audience of at
-least one, the one being Mr. Tully.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. George was drilling Tom in control now
-and it was a good deal like hard work. They had
-made up a set of signals and Tom, ball in hand,
-would watch Mr. George’s fingers laid across the
-back of his big mitten and then do his best to
-put the ball over where it was wanted. High balls
-that cut the inner corner of the plate, high balls
-that passed over the middle of it, high balls that
-cut the outer corner, followed each other. Sometimes
-they were slow and sometimes fast. Mr.
-George was always calling for a change of pace.
-After the high balls came “waisters” and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
-low ones, and finally, as Tom’s control progressed,
-Mr. George would “mix them up.”</p>
-
-<p>“Here’s a ‘chopper,’” he would announce, referring
-to the mythical batsman. “What you going
-to give him, Tom?”</p>
-
-<p>And Tom, winding up, would put the ball over
-the plate knee-high.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the ticket! Now here’s a ‘swinger,’
-Tom.” Whereupon Tom would serve a waist ball
-that passed across the inside of the plate.</p>
-
-<p>“Strike! Sneak one over on him now.”</p>
-
-<p>A fast ball, between shoulder and waist, would
-follow and Mr. George would triumphantly announce
-another strike. “And now let’s get rid
-of him, Tom!”</p>
-
-<p>And Tom, his imagination almost visualising
-the non-existent ‘swinger,’ would, with a sudden
-change of pace, pitch a slow one straight over the
-centre of the plate, and:</p>
-
-<p>“Striker’s out!” Mr. George would declare.</p>
-
-<p>Once they enlisted the services of Mr. Fales,
-a head clerk in Miller and Tappen’s shipping department,
-to stand at the plate with a bat and
-strike at the balls as they went by. He had explicit
-directions not to hit it, and probably didn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
-intend to, but he did finally and the ball passed
-through an open window in the parlour and demolished
-the glass in the framed picture of Washington
-Crossing the Delaware. After that they
-got along with less realism.</p>
-
-<p>Tom pitched with very little “wind-up,” a fact
-which Mr. George greatly relished. One swing of
-his right arm, a short poise on the right foot, and
-then a long step forward and a good carry-through
-with arm and body. That was Tom’s style, and
-Mr. George declared he couldn’t better it. “I’m
-not saying that a hard ‘wind-up’ may not give
-more speed, but there’s a lot of lost effort in it.
-Besides that, it gives a runner a fine chance to
-steal on you. Why, I’ve seen three men in one
-game steal home on a pitcher with a long
-‘wind-up.’ Nowadays, with a fast runner on
-bases, the pitcher cuts out the ‘wind-up’ and
-pitches from the shoulder, not taking any chances,
-but what’s the good of learning to pitch one way
-if you’ve got to pitch another way a dozen times
-in a game? Not that I’d advise a man who’d
-learned to pitch with a long ‘wind-up’ to change
-his style, though. I wouldn’t. But I say to a fellow
-who’s just learning: Go through as few motions<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
-as you can. You notice I always twist myself
-into a bunch. It never did me any good, except
-maybe it let me pitch a faster ball. Control’s
-the thing, Tom, and it’s usually the pitcher who
-keeps his feet on the ground most who has it best.
-Anyway, that’s how it seems to me.”</p>
-
-<p>Meanwhile, the high school team had struggled
-through the first three games of its schedule, losing
-two and winning one. So far neither Farrar
-nor Williams had shown enough stamina to pitch
-the full nine innings, and Sidney reported that Mr.
-Talbot was getting rather discouraged. Tom had
-not yet found an opportunity to see a game played,
-for business at the store was pretty brisk and
-he hesitated to ask for an afternoon off. Such an
-afternoon came, though, and in an unlooked-for
-way.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a><br />
-<small>AFTERNOON PRACTICE</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>It was a Thursday, languidly warm, and trade
-had been dull. Mr. Cummings wandered down to
-where Tom, having just got back from school, was
-placing selling marks on a new arrival of running
-shirts and trunks.</p>
-
-<p>“How’s the high school nine getting along,
-Tom?” he asked. “I saw they got beaten by the
-Y.M.C.A. team the other day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, rather badly. I haven’t seen them
-play yet, but I hear that they’re sort of up against
-it for pitchers this year.”</p>
-
-<p>“Haven’t seen them, you say? That’s so, you
-don’t have much chance, do you? What do you
-think of that, Horace?” Mr. Cummings turned
-to the junior partner, who was busy across the
-store. “Here’s Tom selling baseballs and bats
-and things and hasn’t seen a game of ball yet.
-Hard luck, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Wright grunted and Mr. Cummings winked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>
-jovially at Tom. Then, to their surprise, Mr.
-Wright added, “I s’pose it is.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Cummings laughed. “It surely is,” he
-declared. “Tom, suppose you and I go and see
-a game this afternoon. I guess we won’t be
-needed here.”</p>
-
-<p>“They don’t play to-day, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t they!” Mr. Cummings was palpably
-disappointed. “Thought I saw a lot of the boys
-going out toward the field awhile ago in playing
-togs.”</p>
-
-<p>“They have practice every afternoon, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, that’s it! Well, what’s the matter with
-going out there and seeing them practice?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d like to very much,” answered Tom, “if
-I’m not needed in here.” And he looked doubtfully
-across at Mr. Wright. The junior partner
-sniffed. “Guess we can do without you to-day,”
-he said almost graciously. “Don’t see what <em>you</em>
-want to go tagging off to a ball game for, Joseph.”
-Mr. Cummings laughed again.</p>
-
-<p>“Just to keep Tom out of mischief,” he said.
-“Get your hat, Tom. Joe, if Mr. Wyman comes
-in about those locks, you tell him we got word
-to-day from the folks in Philadelphia and they’re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
-on the way. Ought to be here by Saturday, sure.
-Come on, Tom.”</p>
-
-<p>They caught a car outside and Mr. Cummings
-pushed Tom into a rear seat. He chuckled as he
-selected a cigar from his case and lighted it.
-“Guess we did that pretty well,” he said. “If
-I had a bag of peanuts I’d feel as if I was going
-to the circus!” He seemed in real holiday mood.
-Of course they talked baseball until they left the
-car to walk the intervening block to the athletic
-field.</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose they don’t charge us anything to-day,
-Tom,” he said questioningly as they came in
-sight of the grounds.</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Too bad; I feel just like spending money!
-How do we get in?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom led the way to the gate and they went inside.
-A handful of boys were lolling on the seats
-of the grandstand, looking on, while on the diamond
-the first team and the scrubs were engaged
-in a game. Tom saw Sidney on the bench and
-waved to him. By the time they had found seats
-in a shady portion of the stand, Sidney had joined
-them.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Hello, Tom! How do you do, Mr. Cummings?
-Is this a holiday?”</p>
-
-<p>“It is for us, Morris,” chuckled Mr. Cummings.
-“Tom and I sort of sneaked off. Are you playing?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, but I don’t bat for awhile yet,” replied
-Sidney, taking a seat beside them.</p>
-
-<p>“Then suppose you tell us what’s going on.
-Who’s that at bat now?”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s Sam Craig. He’s our catcher. We’re
-having a practice game with the scrub team, sir.
-The tall chap at the end of the bench is Frank
-Warner, our captain. And that’s Mr. Talbot
-standing behind him. He’s our coach, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good, is he?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, one of the best. Everyone likes him.
-Craig has fanned. That’s Pete Farrar coming up
-now. He’s our best pitcher.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then I suppose he can’t hit,” said Mr. Cummings.</p>
-
-<p>“Not very well. Nor,” added Sidney smilingly,
-“pitch much, either. He’s the best we
-have, though.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tom was telling me you were hard-up for
-pitchers. Can’t you find a good one in all that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
-crowd? Why, you must have three or four hundred
-boys in school, haven’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Over four hundred, sir, but we haven’t found
-anyone who can pitch much. That is, except one
-fellow, and we can’t get him.”</p>
-
-<p>“How is that?” asked Mr. Cummings.</p>
-
-<p>“He has to work.” Sidney grinned at Tom,
-and Tom coloured. “If we got him to pitch for
-us, we’d be all right, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>“Has to work, eh? That’s too bad. Something
-like Tom here, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Very much like him,” laughed Sidney. Mr.
-Cummings looked around questioningly. “It’s
-Tom I’m talking about, Mr. Cummings.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tom! Why, I didn’t know he could pitch
-ball.” Mr. Cummings faced Tom accusingly.
-“You never told me that. So you’re a young
-Walter Johnson, are you, son?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sid’s just talking,” murmured Tom. “I
-pitch a little, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“He’s a dandy at it,” declared Sidney warmly,
-“and everyone wishes he could join the team.
-But of course he can’t.”</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose not,” agreed Mr. Cummings.
-“Too bad, too.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.” Sidney was in perfect agreement.
-Mr. Cummings was silent a minute. Then, “I’d
-like to see you pitch, Tom,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>“It would be quite a treat,” said Tom flippantly.
-He was a bit embarrassed and the
-flippancy was meant to disguise the fact. Sidney,
-who had started to say something, closed his
-mouth and got up.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s three out. I’ll have to go. If you stay
-till we’re through, Tom, I’ll go back with you.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom looked doubtfully at Mr. Cummings.
-“What inning is it?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Third. We’ll only play six, probably. It
-won’t take long. Better see it through.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course we will,” replied Mr. Cummings
-with cheerful decision, stretching his legs comfortably
-over the back of the bench in front.
-“This is a holiday with us, Morris. Nothing to
-do till to-morrow!”</p>
-
-<p>Sidney laughed and hurried away into right
-field and Mr. Cummings turned to Tom. “How
-long you been pitching?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Just since last year,” responded Tom. “Sid
-showed me a little about it and then I got a book
-and studied it. Now there’s a man at my boarding-house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
-who used to play professional ball;
-pitched on some of the minor league teams for
-eight years; he’s teaching me a lot.”</p>
-
-<p>His employer observed him admiringly.
-“Tom,” he said, “you’re a smart kid, aren’t
-you? How old are you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sixteen—and a half.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hm! You look more than that. I suppose
-now you’d like to play with these chaps, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, I’d like to very much.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I wish you could.” Mr. Cummings was
-frowningly silent for awhile. Pete Farrar—a
-long, rangy, and somewhat seedy youth of seventeen—was
-in the box for the school nine. He had
-an eccentric “wind-up” that included whirling
-his right arm around at the shoulder several times
-like a wind-mill. But most of the effort went into
-the “wind-up” and not enough, it seemed, into
-the delivery. At any rate, his performance that
-afternoon was pretty poor. He passed the first
-man up in the first half of the third and was hit
-for a two-bagger by the second. The scrubs got
-two runs across in that inning. Tom concluded
-that he liked the scrubs’ pitcher better. He was
-a youngster named Moran who, if he put on less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
-“side,” seemed to have far better control. But
-perhaps, Tom charitably added to himself, this
-was an off-day with Farrar. As the teams
-changed places again Captain Warner went to
-bat. Mr. Cummings broke a long silence.</p>
-
-<p>“Tom,” he said, “couldn’t we fix it somehow
-so you could play ball? How many games
-do they play a week?”</p>
-
-<p>“Usually two, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, don’t it seem as if you could get off two
-afternoons?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m afraid that wouldn’t do any good, sir,
-because, you see, I’d have to practise with the
-team if I was to play on it. I guess there isn’t
-any way I could play, Mr. Cummings, unless I
-was to quit working, and I couldn’t afford to do
-that.”</p>
-
-<p>“How much practice would it take?” persisted
-Mr. Cummings.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, it seems to me that, if these chaps need
-you as badly as they say they do, it’s a shame
-you can’t play. And I’m going to see if we can’t
-fix it somehow, Tom. I suppose Horace will think
-I’m crazy, though,” he added half aloud.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“I don’t mind not playing, sir,” Tom assured
-him. “And—and I wouldn’t feel right, anyway,
-about letting you pay me wages and then not being
-there.”</p>
-
-<p>“Humph!” said Mr. Cummings. “I guess it
-wouldn’t break us. Who’s this coming?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sidney Morris, sir. Oh, that’s Mr. Talbot
-with him!”</p>
-
-<p>“Thought so. Looks as if they were coming
-here, don’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>It did, and in a moment Sidney was introducing
-the coach to Mr. Cummings. Tom realised
-then that Sidney had brought Mr. Talbot
-over for a purpose. And the purpose was
-not long in declaring itself. There was a
-minute of polite conversation between the
-two men and then the coach got down to business.</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Cummings,” he asked, “isn’t there some
-way by which we can get the services of Tom Pollock
-here? We need him pretty badly on the team.
-We’re in a regular hole as far as pitching goes.
-Of course I realise that he’s working for you
-and that you need him at your store, but it seems
-to me that in some way or other we might arrange<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
-things so he could pitch for us at least occasionally.
-We might not need him all the time. If he
-could pitch, say, one game a week, it would be
-a big thing for the school.”</p>
-
-<p>“I was just talking it over with Tom,” replied
-Mr. Cummings. “If it can be arranged, I’ll be
-glad, Mr. Talbot. But Tom says he would have
-to do a lot of practising with the team. Frankly,
-Mr. Talbot, if I had the whole say of it, I’d send
-him out here every afternoon, but my partner, Mr.
-Wright, isn’t—well, quite as sympathetic toward
-baseball as I am!”</p>
-
-<p>“I see. As to practising, why, Pollock’s right.
-But under the circumstances I guess we could be
-easy with him. You don’t expect a pitcher to do
-much more than play his position, you know. I
-guess we’d forgive him if he didn’t show up very
-brilliantly at bat and at fielding. What we want
-is someone who can stand up against some of the
-big teams we’re scheduled to meet this month and
-next and give us a chance to win now and then.
-We’ve got a pretty fair team this year. They’re
-smart fielders and they’ll do pretty well at bat
-in another week or so. But we’re certainly shy
-on pitchers, Mr. Cummings.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, what’s your idea?” asked Mr. Cummings.</p>
-
-<p>“How about three afternoons a week during
-May and then, say, two after that? I wouldn’t
-ask Pollock to pitch more than once a week, but
-I’d like to have him come out and get used to
-the team and let the team get used to him. By
-the first of June I guess, if he practised once a
-week, it would be enough to keep him steady.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m willing,” replied Tom’s employer, “and
-I’ll talk it over with my partner. If I can make
-him agree, it’ll be all right. And—oh, well, I’ll
-pretty near guarantee to talk Horace around!
-Anyway, we’ll settle it in a day or two. But, say,
-I’m taking your word for all this. How do I know
-he can really pitch? You ever seen him?”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Talbot laughed and shook his head. “As
-a matter of fact, Mr. Cummings, I never have!
-I’m taking the boys’ word for it. Morris here
-says he can. Healey says so. And Hughes and
-two or three others.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s all right,” returned Mr. Cummings
-gravely, thrusting his hands in his pockets and
-looking stubborn. “But I’m from Missouri.
-You’ll have to show me!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Sidney laughed. “What Mr. Cummings wants,
-I guess, is to have Tom pitch now.”</p>
-
-<p>“Want to try it?” asked Mr. Talbot of Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“If you want me to, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” the coach hesitated, “it’s sort of short
-notice, I suppose, but maybe we’d better convince
-Mr. Cummings, Pollock. We want him to help
-us, you see. How would it do if you pitched for
-the scrubs the next inning or two?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m willing,” replied Tom, “only——” He
-glanced at the clothes he was wearing.</p>
-
-<p>“Never mind about what you have on,” said
-Mr. Talbot. “You needn’t bat, and I guess if you
-take your coat and waistcoat off you’ll get along
-all right. They’re calling you, Morris. You’re
-up.” And as Sidney hurried across to the plate
-Mr. Talbot went on: “I hope you will succeed
-with your partner, Mr. Cummings, for we certainly
-need this chap out here with us. In any
-case, I’m very much obliged to you for your willingness
-to help us. Wouldn’t you like to look on
-from the bench?”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Cummings arose with alacrity and, followed
-by Tom, accompanied the coach across to the other
-side of the diamond, where a place was found for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
-him on the players’ bench. Buster Healey winked
-gravely at Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Get on to Bat being sweet to old Cummings,”
-he whispered to Bert Meyers, who was seated beside
-him. “He’s after Pollock I’ll bet a dollar.
-Bet you he gets him, too!”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Cummings was introduced to Captain Warner
-and one or two of the other boys and was
-quite in his element. Pete Farrar, farther along
-the bench, viewed Tom’s appearance with suspicion.
-Young Smith, bat in hand, waiting for Sidney
-to retire from the plate, turned his head
-toward the bench and whispered hoarsely:</p>
-
-<p>“Pete!”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh?” grunted Pete Farrar.</p>
-
-<p>“Good-bye,” said Smithie softly.</p>
-
-<p>Pete only grunted again.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a><br />
-<small>TOM TWIRLS FOR THE SCRUBS</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Tom realised, as he walked over to the mound and
-picked up the ball, that at least a portion of his
-audience was hostile. He could not expect Pete
-Farrar to be wholly pleased at his advent on the
-scene, and Pete’s demeanour showed that he
-wasn’t, while for some less easily explainable reason
-Captain Warner seemed far from friendly.
-Not that these things bothered Tom very much,
-however. He was naturally a little nervous, but
-I doubt if anyone guessed it. As luck had it,
-the first three batsmen to confront him were
-Kenny, Craig, and Farrar, the last trio on the
-first team’s batting-list. Tom knew nothing about
-them and so wisely relied on the scrub catcher
-to tell him what to offer.</p>
-
-<p>Tom presented a rather incongruous appearance
-in the box. He had removed his coat and
-waistcoat, tied his suspenders around his waist,
-and rolled up the sleeves of his blue-stripe shirt.
-Tommy Hughes had supplied him with a cap to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
-take the place of the straw hat he had been wearing.
-His long trousers struck an odd note
-amongst the surrounding uniforms. On the bench,
-Mr. Talbot and Mr. Cummings sat side by side
-and watched interestedly, the latter a trifle
-anxiously as well. He was prepared to be very
-proud of Tom’s prowess and was mutely hoping
-that the boy would not, after all, prove a fiasco.</p>
-
-<p>Arthur Brown, who caught for the scrubs, knelt
-behind the plate and gave the signal for a fast,
-straight ball. Tom settled his cap with a tug
-at the visor, brought his arms back over his head,
-lifted his left leg in air a little, and pitched. Joe
-Kenny watched the ball cut the centre of the plate,
-waist-high, and heard it slap into the big mitt
-behind him. Then he tapped his bat on the plate,
-squared himself, and seemed to dare Tom to do
-it again. And Tom did it again, only this time
-the ball, instead of whizzing up to the plate, came
-with deceptive slowness and Kenny hit much too
-soon. Steve Arbuckle, the team’s manager, who
-was umpiring, watched the ball go dancing along
-outside third-base-line and announced:</p>
-
-<p>“Foul! Strike two!”</p>
-
-<p>After that Tom tried Kenny with an out-shoot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
-and Joe wisely refused to offer at it and it went
-as a ball. Then came another ball, a drop that
-was too low, and then, getting the signal from
-Brown, Tom shot over a high one that cut the
-plate squarely in two. Kenny struck at it too
-late, whirled on his heel, and dragged his bat
-toward the bench. A chorus of approval arose
-from Buster and Tommy and some of the others,
-and Mr. Cummings turned beamingly to the coach.</p>
-
-<p>“How’s that?” he demanded. “That’s pitching
-’em, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>The coach smiled approvingly. “He looks
-good, Mr. Cummings. And I like the way he does
-it, too. Looks like a born pitcher to me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course he is!” declared the other convincedly,
-evidently forgetting that it was he who had
-evinced doubt of Tom’s ability. “That boy’s a
-wonder, Mr. Talbot!”</p>
-
-<p>Sam Craig was the slugging kind of a batter
-and wanted, as all free hitters do, a ball on the
-end of his bat. Consequently when, after Tom,
-at Brown’s demand, had offered a high fast ball
-on the outside of the plate and Craig had slammed
-at it viciously and narrowly missed it, the catcher
-signalled for a straight, low one, Tom shook his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
-head. Brown signalled again, and again Tom refused.
-Mr. Talbot watched eagerly.</p>
-
-<p>“Brown’s signalling for something Pollock
-doesn’t want to give him,” he said softly to Mr.
-Cummings. “Evidently Pollock has a head as
-well as an arm.”</p>
-
-<p>“Head!” began Mr. Cummings. But at that
-moment, Tom and his catcher having reached an
-agreement, a slow in-shoot floated across the inside
-of the plate, Craig staggered away from it,
-and the umpire announced, “Strike two!”</p>
-
-<p>Craig got to first in the end, however, finally
-taking an inside ball on the handle of his bat
-and trickling it slowly toward third, so slowly
-that by the time third baseman had come in and
-got it and thrown it to first Craig was safe on
-his bag. But Farrar was an easy proposition.
-Three fast, straight balls and one slow teaser did
-for him, and he retired disgruntled to confide to
-Frank Warner that “that chump hasn’t anything
-but a fast ball and you can knock the spots out
-of him!”</p>
-
-<p>Buster Healey faced Tom with a grin. “Be
-easy with me, Tom,” he called. “I used to play
-with you!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Tom smiled. “Just tell me what you want,
-Buster,” he answered.</p>
-
-<p>“And you won’t give it to me,” grumbled Buster.
-“I know!”</p>
-
-<p>Whatever it was Buster did want, it is safe to
-assume that what he got was something quite different,
-for Buster, after popping a foul back of
-first base, went out on strikes.</p>
-
-<p>When Tom came back to the bench, Mr. Talbot
-was slipping his left hand into a catcher’s mitt.
-“Pollock, come over here and show me what you
-can do,” he said eagerly. “Unless your arm’s
-tired?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit, sir.” So while the school team took
-the field and the scrubs went to bat again Tom
-pitched to the coach, explaining his deliveries as
-he sent them in.</p>
-
-<p>“Here’s an in-shoot, sir. I try to break it just
-in front of the plate, but it doesn’t always
-do it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pretty good, though,” replied Mr. Talbot,
-tossing the ball back. “What’s your drop like,
-Pollock?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom showed him, and the coach scrambled the
-ball out of the dirt. “Seems to me,” he said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
-finally, “you’ve got about everything, Pollock.
-Give me two or three fast ones now.”</p>
-
-<p>And Tom let himself go and slammed in a high
-one, a low one, and a “waister” that made Mr.
-Talbot beam.</p>
-
-<p>“Great stuff!” he said. “Where the dickens
-did you learn to pitch like that, Pollock?”</p>
-
-<p>“There’s a man who lives where I do,” replied
-Tom, returning to the bench, “who used to be
-a professional pitcher. He’s been teaching me for
-a month or more. Maybe you know him. His
-name is George.”</p>
-
-<p>“‘Big Ben’ George? Yes, but I never knew
-he’d been a ball-player. Guess I’ll have to get
-him to come out and coach our pitchers for us.
-He has surely done well by you, Pollock.”</p>
-
-<p>When the last of the next and fifth inning began,
-Tom faced Bert Meyers, the husky third baseman,
-and Meyers landed on Tom’s first offering and
-cracked it far into left field, getting two bases.
-As Tom did not yet trust himself to throw to
-bases, he left Meyers to his own devices, much
-to the surprise of that youth and to the chagrin
-of the scrub second baseman. Frank Warner was
-the next man up, and, as the captain was something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
-of a hitter, perhaps it was as well that Tom
-gave him all his attention instead of sharing it
-with Meyers.</p>
-
-<p>Tom realised that it might be a diplomatic act
-to “let Frank down easy.” He was certain that
-the captain for some reason rather disliked him
-already, and knew that if he managed to strike him
-out that dislike would not lessen any. But the
-scrub team had gained a one-run lead in their half
-of the final inning and Tom concluded that to deliberately
-endanger the scrubs’ victory would be
-hardly fair, even if by so doing he managed to
-partly placate Captain Warner. So Tom set himself
-very carefully to dispose of the redoubtable
-one.</p>
-
-<p>On second, Bert Meyers was taking all sorts of
-leads and yelling like a Comanche Indian in an
-effort to disturb the pitcher. If he had only
-known it, he could have stolen third base with impunity,
-for Tom had determined to take no risks
-of hurriedly pegging the ball into the outfield.
-But Tom’s cool scrutiny fooled Bert. Every time
-Tom wound up Bert dashed up the base-line, but
-he always stopped short of a steal and scuttled
-back to safety as the ball went to the catcher.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
-Bert was big and rangy, but not a fast man on
-bases.</p>
-
-<p>Tom’s first offering to Frank Warner almost
-brought about disaster. It was an in-shoot and
-it broke badly, passing over the plate “in the
-groove.” Frank swung at it and struck it and
-dashed for first, but the ball was a foul by a bare
-two inches when it struck back of third. After
-that Tom was more cautious. A wide one was
-wasted and then Tom worked a drop that fooled
-Frank so badly that the players on the bench chuckled
-audibly as he recovered himself after a vicious
-swipe at empty air. A rather ugly expression
-came into the captain’s face then. He didn’t
-like being made a fool of. A fast ball that went
-over too high counted against the pitcher. Then
-Frank landed on a low one and popped a foul into
-the stand. Tom had only one more to waste, and
-when Arthur Brown asked for a curve Tom shook
-his head. What he did send in was a slow ball,
-Frank, angry and anxious to hit, did just what
-Tom thought he would do. He struck too soon,
-the ball passed under his bat, and, although
-Brown dropped the strike, Frank was too disgruntled
-to try for his base.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Tommy Hughes was easy for Tom, four pitched
-balls disposing of him, and the game was over,
-the scrubs winning by a score of seven to six.
-Arthur Brown, tossing aside his mask, intercepted
-Tom on his way to the bench. “That’s some
-pitching, Pollock,” he declared admiringly. “I’d
-like to catch you all the time!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I guess you did as much as I did,” answered
-Tom. “Glad I helped you win, though.”</p>
-
-<p>Frank Warner lounged over to where Tom, assisted
-by the proud and delighted Mr. Cummings,
-was donning his coat. “That’s quite a drop you
-have, Pollock,” he said patronisingly. “You
-want to practise up on your curves, though. It
-won’t do to break ’em over the plate, you
-know. Mr. Talbot says you’re coming out for the
-team.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know yet. If I can, I will.”</p>
-
-<p>“Glad to have you. We need more pitchers.”
-The captain nodded carelessly and turned away.
-Mr. Cummings chuckled.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s sore because you struck him out, son,”
-he said. “I was glad you did, too. Sort of a
-stuck-up fellow, isn’t he?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom, Sidney, Mr. Cummings, and Coach Talbot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
-walked over to the trolley line together and
-boarded the same car. Sidney, before he dropped
-off at Alameda Avenue, made Tom promise to
-come around to see him that evening. As they
-neared the store, Mr. Cummings, who had been
-talking with Mr. Talbot most of the way, turned
-to Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Tom, you might as well go on home,” he said.
-“It’s almost half-past five. I’m going to talk
-to Mr. Wright about you while I’m feeling brave,”
-he added, “and I guess I’ll get on better if you’re
-not there.”</p>
-
-<p>“If there’s anything I can do to help,” offered
-Mr. Talbot, “I’ll be very glad to stop in with
-you.”</p>
-
-<p>“N-no, I guess not, thanks. If it comes out all
-right, I’ll let you know and Tom can start in with
-you Monday.”</p>
-
-<p>When Tom reached home he found Mr. George
-pitching at the fence in the side-yard. “Hello,
-Tom, you’re home early,” he said. “Haven’t
-been fired, have you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not exactly,” laughed Tom. “I’ve been
-pitching for the high school scrub team. Five
-strike-outs in two innings, Mr. George!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Well, that’s going some, Tom. Let’s hear
-about it.”</p>
-
-<p>So Tom recounted the happenings of the afternoon
-and the detective was delighted that Tom
-was to have a chance to put into practice what
-he had taught him. Mr. Talbot’s suggestion that
-he come out and coach the pitchers pleased him,
-too.</p>
-
-<p>“Say, I’d like to do that if I had the time,” he
-declared.</p>
-
-<p>“I think he’d like to have you. I know I would.
-Why don’t you talk it over with him? You know
-him, don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Bat’s handled a few small cases for the
-railroad. That’s how I met him. He’s a nice fellow.
-Maybe I’ll look him up this evening and see
-what he says. Too tired to practice, are you?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I’m not tired at all. I only worked two
-innings and didn’t have to bat. I guess I’ll rest
-a little while, though, first. What were you doing
-when I came in?”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. George smiled at the ball he held. “Say, I
-was trying to get the knack of the ‘knuckle-ball’
-that fellow Summers, of the Detroits, pitches.
-Haven’t got it yet, though. Here’s the idea,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
-though, as I figure it out. You double back your
-middle fingers like this and hold the ball with
-your thumb and little finger. It’s not easy,
-though. Try it.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom took the ball and strove to get a grip on
-it in the manner shown. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
-he asked finally. “But I’d never be able to pitch
-it that way. Why, it would just fall out! I
-wouldn’t have any control over it!”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the way it seemed to me until I tried
-it, but I’m getting the hang of it. It’s a great
-ball when it’s done right; looks like a fast one
-and floats over as slow as an ice-wagon going up
-hill! When I learn it, I’ll show it to you, Tom.
-Say, I’m mighty glad you’re going to pitch for
-those fellows! Bet you anything we just mow
-’em down this spring, Tom!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, it isn’t settled yet. Mr. Wright may
-not agree to it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pshaw! What’s the reason he won’t? You
-tell him if he doesn’t he’s got to look out for me,
-son! I’m liable to put a dent in him!”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a><br />
-<small>WITH THE TEAM</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>It wasn’t necessary, however, for the detective to
-put any dents in Mr. Wright, for the next morning
-Mr. Cummings informed Tom that it was all
-arranged. “It wasn’t so easy to bring him
-around, Tom, but he came after awhile. I told
-him, among other things, that it would be good
-business. Said we sold a lot of things to the
-high school boys and that if you played ball with
-them and won games for them it would make us
-more popular than ever and we’d get more trade.”
-Mr. Cummings paused to chuckle reminiscently.
-“I sort of think that’s what did the business,
-son. After that he listened real patiently and
-finally gave in. So you’re to have three afternoons
-off every week this month and two next.
-You’d better see Mr. Talbot yourself and see what
-days he wants you. I guess Monday had better
-be one of them, for that’s usually rather a dull
-day with us. Then Wednesday and Saturday
-might do for the others.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Tom thanked Mr. Cummings gratefully.</p>
-
-<p>“Seems to me, though, it would be fairer if you
-were to take something off my wages until the
-baseball season’s over,” he urged. “I—I’d feel
-better about it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I suggested that to Horace, but he
-turned on me and nearly bit my head off. Said,
-so long as we didn’t have to get anyone in to take
-your place while you were out, he guessed we
-needn’t be so tarnation mean as all that! I guess
-we won’t quarrel about a dollar or so, Tom. After
-all, there is something in what I told Horace about
-getting more trade by letting you play with the
-team, and I guess we don’t stand to lose anything.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Talbot suggested Thursdays instead of
-Wednesdays as one of the days, since the midweek
-games were played on Wednesdays and he
-believed Tom could learn more on a practice afternoon.
-So it was finally arranged that Tom was
-to report for practice on Monday and Thursday
-afternoons and for play on Saturdays until June.
-After that Thursdays and Saturdays were to suffice.
-Meanwhile Mr. George had talked with the
-coach and had agreed to go out to the field twice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
-a week, and oftener if he could, and take the
-pitchers in hand. Tom couldn’t determine which
-seemed the most pleased, Mr. Talbot or Mr.
-George!</p>
-
-<p>Tom’s first practice with the team took place
-the next Monday. He had supplied himself with
-a uniform and felt both proud and a trifle self-conscious
-as he walked onto the field in company
-with Sidney and Tommy Hughes. Nothing very
-exciting fell to his lot that day. For a half-hour
-he pitched to the batsmen in front of the net, and
-later sat on the bench and watched Pete Farrar
-and Toby Williams work in the box. Mr. Talbot
-instructed him to observe the fielding methods and
-watch particularly the conduct of the pitchers
-with men on bases. Tom soon saw that a pitcher
-had more to do than pitch. He had to handle balls
-in his own territory, cover first base on many occasions,
-and run up to the plate whenever a ball
-went past the catcher. He also learned things
-about holding the runners on bases, envying the
-dexterity with which Pete Farrar, who, like Tom,
-was a right-handed pitcher, whirled about to step
-from the box and peg the ball to first or second.
-Tom did not get into the practice game at all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
-that afternoon, Mr. Talbot probably thinking that
-it would do him more good to look on from the
-bench. Captain Warner was friendly in a rather
-chilly way, but Pete Farrar quite evidently regarded
-him as an unwelcome interloper. The rest
-of the fellows, though, showed him that he was
-more than welcome. His advent had caused a sensation
-and practice was attended by nearly the
-entire school. Had they but known it, Cummings
-and Wright had already received a good many
-dollars’ worth of gratuitous advertisement!</p>
-
-<p>On Thursday practice was harder and more
-prolonged than on any day thus far, perhaps owing
-to the fact that on the preceding day the team,
-with Pete Farrar pitching four disastrous innings
-and Toby Williams finishing the game, had gone
-down in overwhelming defeat before a nine composed
-of high school graduates led by Walter
-White. There was nearly an hour of batting practice,
-a good thirty minutes of fielding work, with
-Manager Arbuckle knocking fungoes to the outfield
-and Coach Talbot hitting balls to the basemen.
-Tom had his first practice in base-running
-that afternoon and discovered that he had a lot
-to learn. The first time he attempted a slide he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
-landed a yard short of second and was easily out.
-Later the two teams played four innings, and Tom
-pitched again for the scrubs. Whether his previous
-exertions were responsible for his poor
-showing, I can’t say. But he got a severe drubbing
-that afternoon and went home surprised and
-discouraged.</p>
-
-<p>“What could you expect?” asked Mr. George.
-“You were tired. Seems to me funny that Bat
-would let you pitch after having you run bases.
-Maybe, though, he meant to show you something
-you didn’t know, Tom.” Tom looked a question,
-and Mr. George added: “That you can’t do good
-work in the box if you’re not fresh and fit.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. George himself took hold of his part of the
-coaching the following afternoon. As it was a
-Friday, Tom was not on hand, but Mr. George
-told him about it when they met before dinner.</p>
-
-<p>“A nice lot of fellows,” he said. “I had a
-real good time out there. That kid Williams is
-going to make a pitcher some day if he sticks
-at it. He’s a smooth little article, Tom. Of course
-he’s young yet, but he shows a lot of promise.
-The older fellow, Farrar, will never do anything.
-He’s got started all wrong and he won’t let anyone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>
-tell him anything. He hasn’t any head, either.
-He will be some better when I get through with
-him, I guess, but he won’t ever amount to much.”</p>
-
-<p>The baseball squad took to the big, quiet-mannered,
-good-hearted detective at once; Tom saw
-that the next day. Mr. George even threatened
-to rival Coach Talbot in the affections of the boys.
-The team journeyed to Minturn on Saturday, and
-Tom went along. The game with the Minturn
-team was a loosely played contest, which the
-Brown-and-Blue won by the one-sided score of
-14 to 3. Tom pitched three innings, relieving Pete
-Farrar in the seventh. He wasn’t forced to extend
-himself any to dispose of the Minturn hitters
-that faced him. He struck out five, made
-one put-out, and assisted twice. At bat, which
-he reached but once, he managed to make a rather
-scratchy hit and got as far as second when Buster
-slashed a hard one down the left alley. Then
-he performed a “bone-head” play that ended
-his chances of scoring and put the side out. Bert
-Meyers popped a high infield fly and Tom started
-for third before the frenzied cries of the coaches
-could stop him. By the time he was racing back
-to his base the Minturn first baseman had caught<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
-the fly and pegged the ball across to shortstop
-and Tom made the third out. He felt very much
-ashamed of himself and rather expected censure
-from Coach Talbot. But all the latter said as Tom
-went over to the bench was, “Infield flies are bad
-things to run on, Pollock.”</p>
-
-<p>Captain Warner, however, was not so lenient,
-and regarded Tom with a scowl as he passed him
-on his way to second. “You want to keep your
-wits about you, Pollock,” he said severely, “when
-you play this game. Don’t you know enough to
-hold your base on an infield fly, when there’s only
-one out?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m sorry,” he said contritely. Warner
-grunted.</p>
-
-<p>To atone for his mistake, Tom set to work and
-ended the contest then and there, disposing of the
-next three batsmen with exactly thirteen pitched
-balls. The victory, however, was not one to be
-very proud of, for the error column of Manager
-Arbuckle’s score-sheet showed seven little black
-dots.</p>
-
-<p>It was the Monday morning following the Minturn
-game that Tom stopped for a minute to
-watch the work on the new office building. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
-concrete foundation piers were in place and big
-steel girders were being lifted about by towering
-cranes like so many jack-straws. While he
-watched at the edge of the throng, the contractor
-to whom Mr. Cummings had sold the pump passed
-and chanced to catch sight of him.</p>
-
-<p>“Hello!” he said, turning back with a smile,
-“aren’t you the boy who told me about that pump
-that Cummings sold me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir. Was it all right?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, it saved us a lot of money, I guess. Are
-you still with Cummings?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ask him if he wants to buy it back, then. I’m
-through with it. Any fair offer takes it.”</p>
-
-<p>The contractor nodded and hurried on, and Tom
-took up his journey again. He didn’t go far,
-though. Presently he was back at the corner,
-where a minute’s search discovered the contractor.</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Cummings will give five dollars for that
-pump, sir,” he announced.</p>
-
-<p>“Five dollars!” The contractor stared and
-then laughed. “Well, he isn’t risking his money
-to-day, is he? You tell Cummings——” Then he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
-paused. “Will he take it away to-day at that
-price?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right. Tell him to come and get it.”</p>
-
-<p>At the store Tom sought Mr. Cummings.
-“Will you loan me five dollars, please, sir, until
-I can get it from the bank?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“I guess we can accommodate you, Mr. Pollock,”
-responded the senior partner with a smile.
-“Miss Miller, give Tom five dollars and put it
-on memorandum, please. He wants to return it
-to-day. What are you doing, Tom? Buying
-stocks this morning?”</p>
-
-<p>“Pumps,” laughed Tom. “I’m going to take
-back that pump we sold. Could I store it in the
-cellar again?”</p>
-
-<p>“What! Don’t tell me that white elephant is
-coming back!” exclaimed Mr. Cummings in mock
-dismay.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, he offered to sell it and I said you’d
-give him five dollars for it and take it away to-day.
-Don’t you think it’s worth five dollars?”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course it is! Hang it, Tom, if you had a
-dozen pumps, I’ll bet you’d be a millionaire by
-the end of the year! I don’t see, though, why he’d<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
-want to sell it for five dollars. It would be worth
-that much for old iron.”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess he bought another one, sir. Anyway,
-he said he was through with it. He seemed to
-think five dollars wasn’t very much for it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I should say it wasn’t!”</p>
-
-<p>“But he took it,” added Tom. “So I’m going
-to bring it over here and put it in the basement
-again, if you don’t mind. Maybe I’ll be able to
-sell it again some day.”</p>
-
-<p>“Sell it again! Why, Tom, I expect you’ll get
-rich on that old pump!”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll be about eighteen dollars behind to-night,
-sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“What? Didn’t I hand you over a sixty-dollar
-check only a couple of weeks ago?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir,” Tom laughed, “but you must remember
-that I’d already paid sixty dollars for
-it.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s so,” acknowledged Mr. Cummings.
-“Well, send it along, Tom, and I’ll look after it
-when it comes. And I’ll see if I can’t find a buyer
-for you.”</p>
-
-<p>One afternoon Mr. George announced that he
-had conquered the science of pitching the “knuckle-ball”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
-and set about teaching it to Tom. It
-wasn’t easy, for Tom’s hand was rather small and
-his fingers short. In the end, though, he learned
-to pitch the deceptive ball fairly well, although it
-never became a favourite offering with him. It
-did serve him well, however, on many occasions,
-for the “knuckle-ball,” when properly delivered,
-is particularly deceptive. Twice a week the high
-school team met an opponent and marked up a
-victory or defeat. The team was showing progress
-each week, but was playing erratically. Several
-times contests that should have resulted in
-easy wins for Amesville became victories for their
-opponents, while, to balance things up, more than
-once a game that was conceded to the enemy at
-the start was turned into a triumph for the Brown-and-Blue.
-Mr. George worked wonders with
-the battery candidates, for he didn’t confine himself
-altogether to the pitchers. Sam Craig
-learned many a trick from the new coach. Pete
-Farrar showed improvement over his early-season
-form, while Toby Williams was fast developing
-into a brilliant pitcher. Only his youthfulness
-kept Williams back. He hadn’t the strength to
-pitch nine hard innings and he was never allowed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>
-to attempt that feat. But as a relief pitcher he
-was a big success. The first of June Mr. George,
-unfortunately for the pitching staff, had to go
-away and was gone for nearly a fortnight. Tom
-missed him a good deal, for, although he went
-into the yard by himself before dinner and practised
-his curves and breaks, and quite often found
-someone to don the catcher’s mitt and stand in
-front of him, it was not like having the detective
-there to advise and instruct.</p>
-
-<p>Tom’s two afternoons of practice had greatly
-improved his playing. As a batsman he would
-doubtless never perform in the three-hundred
-class, but he was fully as good with the stick as
-two or three other players who had won places
-on the team. He soon learned how to field his
-position and became so adept at throwing to
-bases that runners no longer took daring leads
-when he was on the mound. He and Buster, who
-played first, got so that they worked together like
-machinery and many an unfortunate runner was
-caught off just when things looked their brightest.</p>
-
-<p>When June came Tom’s two afternoons of practice
-became one, but by that time one was sufficient
-to keep him in condition, since he always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
-had a half-hour workout every day before dinner.
-Mr. Cummings followed the fortunes of the
-high school team, and of Tom especially, with
-great interest. Once or twice a week, usually
-when there was a game to be played, he would
-go out to the field and take his place on the players’
-bench, evidently under the impression that
-Mr. Talbot’s original invitation held good for
-the season. No one, however, ever disputed his
-right to the privilege and the players seemed to
-like to have him there.</p>
-
-<p>Sometimes in the evenings Sidney and Tom and
-one or two of the neighbourhood youths would
-appear in the vacant lot near Sidney’s home and
-play ball, but as a general thing Tom and Sidney
-had had about enough of baseball by dinner time
-and their evenings were more likely to be spent
-in less strenuous ways. The Saturday games
-didn’t interfere with Tom’s trips to Derry and
-he always spent Sundays at the farm. He had
-told Uncle Israel about disposing of the pump,
-and Uncle Israel had merely commented to the
-effect that all the fools weren’t dead yet! But
-he had, Tom thought, seemed a bit pleased, nevertheless.
-When, later, Tom informed him smilingly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
-that he had bought the pump back again, Uncle
-Israel stared and grunted.</p>
-
-<p>“Seems like you were well enough rid of it
-before,” he said dryly. “I suppose you expect
-to find another idiot, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I hope to find someone who wants a
-good pump and is willing to pay half of what it’s
-worth. Besides, if I can’t sell it, I guess it will
-always be worth five or six dollars as junk.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe, maybe,” replied Uncle Israel with a
-wave of his big hand. “Anyway, it’s your affair.”</p>
-
-<p>On the first Saturday in June, Amesville was
-to play its first of three contests with Petersburg
-High School. Petersburg High was Amesville’s
-principal rival in all sports and the success of
-the baseball season was judged by the outcome
-of the Petersburg series. Naturally Tom expected
-to go into the box for the high school that afternoon
-and was much surprised when, after he and
-Pete Farrar and Toby Williams had warmed up,
-Coach Talbot announced that Farrar was to begin
-the game. Sidney, who was seated beside Tom
-on the bench, grumbled.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s a silly way to do,” he said. “Pete’ll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>
-put us in a hole and then you’ll have to go and
-pull the game out of the fire. I don’t see why he
-doesn’t let you start it.”</p>
-
-<p>“He wanted to,” said Tommy Hughes, at Sidney’s
-elbow, speaking in low tones, “but Frank
-threw a fit about it. Bat knuckled right under
-to him. I thought he had more backbone.”</p>
-
-<p>To tell the truth, Tommy had looked for a quarrel
-between coach and captain and was not a little
-disappointed! Sidney took up the cudgels for
-Mr. Talbot.</p>
-
-<p>“Bat knows what he’s doing,” he said stoutly.
-“Don’t you worry, Tommy. I dare say he just
-wants to show Frank that Pete isn’t any good
-against a hard-hitting bunch like Petersburg.”</p>
-
-<p>“I like that!” exclaimed Tommy aggrievedly.
-“Why, you were just criticising Bat yourself!”</p>
-
-<p>“Not at all,” returned Sidney loftily. “I only
-said——”</p>
-
-<p>But what he said didn’t appear, for just then
-the home team was called on to take the field.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</a><br />
-<small>AMESVILLE LOSES THE GAME</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Pete Farrar had his troubles from the very first
-instant. After getting a strike on the batsman,
-he offered one in the groove and the head of the
-Petersburg batting-list cracked it out for two
-bases. That seemed to disconcert Pete a good
-deal. He passed the next man up, tried unavailingly
-to catch the first runner off second, and
-finally allowed the third man to send up a long
-sacrifice fly to the outfield, which scored one run
-and left a man on third. Good fielding disposed
-of the next two batters, and Amesville crawled
-out of a bad situation.</p>
-
-<p>It was not until the third inning that the local
-team got her first man over the plate. Then a hit
-by Bert Meyers, a sacrifice by Frank Warner, and
-an error by third baseman allowed Bert to score.
-At one to one the game went into the fifth. Then,
-with the opposing pitcher at bat, Pete Farrar
-got careless. During four innings he had saved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>
-himself time and again “by the skin of his teeth,”
-to use a handy expression, or had been saved by
-the players behind him. Now, though, he went
-all bad. The Petersburg pitcher was handed his
-base on balls and promptly and unexpectedly
-stole second. The next man landed on Pete’s first
-offering and sent it down the right alley, scoring
-the pitcher. A two-bagger by the opponent’s
-third baseman put men on third and second and
-both players scored a minute later when Captain
-Warner pegged the ball four feet over Buster’s
-head. Then Pete struck a batsman on the
-shoulder with a wild ball and there were runners
-on first and second and still no one out. Pete
-made an effort to settle down then, after Frank
-Warner and Sam Craig had both talked with him,
-and succeeded in striking out the next batsman
-and causing the following one to pop a fly into
-shortstop’s hands. But with two out there was
-still trouble in store for Pete. He seemed quite
-unable to locate the plate and another man walked
-and the bases were filled.</p>
-
-<p>It was then that Coach Talbot signalled to Captain
-Warner, and Warner called for time. Tom
-and Toby Williams had each been warming up,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
-and now Mr. Talbot told Tom to go in. But
-when he reached the box where Captain Warner
-and Pete Farrar were talking together, the former
-turned to him with a scowl.</p>
-
-<p>“What do you want?” he demanded.</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Talbot sent me in to pitch,” responded
-Tom mildly.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you can walk right back,” said Pete.
-“I’m on this job.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom looked inquiringly at Frank Warner. The
-latter frowned and nodded.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s right, Pollock. Run along. I’m running
-this team and not Bat Talbot.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom retraced his steps to the bench, meeting
-the surprised and curious looks of his team-mates.
-Mr. Talbot said nothing, merely nodded understandingly.</p>
-
-<p>Pete faced the next batsman and the infielders
-moved in toward the plate. It was a crucial moment
-and the stand, which had been pretty noisy
-most of the game, settled into silence. One ball
-went wide and a few jeers greeted Pete. The
-next, however, was a strike and a burst of applause
-followed. Then came another ball. On
-the bases the runners were ready to streak along<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
-the path at the smallest opportunity. Another
-strike—a low ball that just cut the outer edge
-of the plate—brought sighs of relief to the Amesville
-supporters. Then a foul went back of first
-and another glanced off the bat and was almost
-captured by Sam Craig. A wide one which the
-batsman refused brought the score two and three
-and Pete had put himself in a hole. Another foul
-past first spoiled one offering and then Pete put
-a fast one straight across and the batsman landed
-on it hard. In raced the men on bases and far
-out into the field sped the ball. But Sidney proved
-the hero of that occasion, for, running like a
-streak to his left, he made the catch at full speed,
-rolling over a few times on the grass as an added
-divertisement!</p>
-
-<p>In the last of the sixth Amesville managed to
-almost close up her distance, scoring two runs on
-two hits and an error by centre fielder. The score
-was now four to three and everyone looked to see
-either Tom or Toby Williams walk to the box
-when the last half of the inning began. But Captain
-Warner, offended by what he termed Mr. Talbot’s
-interference, was stubborn. “Pete’s all
-right,” he declared to the coach. “He had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
-bad inning; they all do; but that’s over with. He
-can hold them all right. You’ll see.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Talbot doubted it, but said nothing more
-and Pete went back again. He got through the
-seventh inning in very good shape, striking out
-two of the men who faced him. A runner reached
-second on a hit past shortstop, but the fourth batsman
-slammed a liner into third baseman’s glove.</p>
-
-<p>Try as she might, however, Amesville was unable
-to add to her score in the seventh or eighth,
-while Petersburg got two on in the ninth, but
-failed to tally. In the last of the inning Smithie,
-first at bat, caught one where he liked it and
-slammed it into short centre for a base. Joe
-Kenny walked and Sam Craig advanced the runners
-with a sacrifice. Pete Farrar went out, third
-to first, and Buster managed to bring in the tying
-run with a slashing hit to second baseman too hot
-for that youth to handle. Then Bert Meyers hit
-into a double and the side was out. But the score
-was now four to four and Amesville in the stand
-shouted excitedly and demanded a new pitcher.</p>
-
-<p>“Put in Pollock!” was the cry. “We want
-this game!”</p>
-
-<p>But Frank Warner was obdurate, and Coach<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
-Talbot let him have his way. Pete Farrar went
-back to the box and the audience, after a moment
-of amazed surprise, gave voice to disapprobation.</p>
-
-<p>“Take him out!” “Give us a pitcher!”
-“Say, Bat, use your bean!” “Put in Tom Pollock!”
-“Take him out!”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Talbot, on the bench, showed neither by
-word nor sign that he heard. Perhaps Captain
-Warner really believed Pete capable of holding
-the visitors for another inning. If he did, events
-proved him greatly mistaken, for that first half
-of the ninth was a veritable Waterloo for Pete.
-The Petersburg players landed on his slants and
-smashed them into all parts of the field. Not a
-man came to bat who didn’t connect safely with
-one of Pete’s offerings, and seven men faced him
-before that devastating inning was over. The
-stand howled protest and derision, and once Sam
-Craig, who had striven heroically all through the
-game to stave off defeat, literally threw up his
-hands. This was when Pete, in a rage at the
-storm of ridicule from the spectators, pitched a
-ball that went fully four feet wide of the plate.
-Sam spread his arms wide and made no effort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
-to get the ball until it had struck the dirt and
-bounded from the back-stop, by which time Petersburg
-had scored her fourth run of the inning. I
-think Pete might have kept on pitching until darkness
-put a stop to the massacre had not the infield
-taken matters into their own hands and, assisted
-by the Petersburg runners, who, with the score
-eight to four, seemed assured of the victory,
-finally ended the inning. Sam Craig heaved the
-ball to Smithie and the shortstop, jumping across
-the second bag, sped it on to Bert Meyers at third.
-The runners at each station were caught napping
-and were called out, and when, a minute later,
-Sam again threw to second and cut off a steal,
-the worst was over.</p>
-
-<p>That last half of the tenth was a forlorn hope
-for the home team. Frank Warner, smarting under
-the unuttered criticism of his team-mates,
-went very determinedly to bat and hit safely past
-second baseman. But, although Tommy Hughes
-laid down a sacrifice bunt and put the runner on
-second, he got no farther. Sidney was an easy
-out, third to first, and Smithie popped a foul into
-the catcher’s hands.</p>
-
-<p>On the way back to town Mr. Cummings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>
-squeezed himself into the seat between Tom and
-Sidney. Mr. Cummings was wildly indignant.
-He told them just how the game should have been
-played and made disparaging remarks about Pete
-Farrar in such a loud voice that Tom was on
-tenterhooks lest Pete, who was only two seats
-ahead, should hear.</p>
-
-<p>That first game of the Petersburg series caused
-all sorts of commotion in school. Those who did
-not know the true inwardness of the matter
-blamed Coach Talbot for the loss of the contest,
-while of those who did know many still blamed
-him for not using his authority and taking Pete
-out of the box in the fifth inning in spite of Captain
-Warner. Indignation meetings were numerous
-on the following Monday and there was
-talk of a petition requesting Frank Warner’s resignation
-and many demands for a new coach.
-But by the middle of the week the fellows calmed
-down and decided to await the outcome of the
-next game before taking steps. The next meeting
-between the rivals was to take place two weeks
-from the first contest and was to be held at Petersburg,
-while the deciding game, if necessary, was
-to be played a week later at Amesville.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>In the meanwhile Pete Farrar was far from
-popular, although he blustered around much as
-usual and had plenty of explanations to offer all
-who would listen to them. Nor was Frank Warner
-much more in favour. Amesville took the
-Petersburg games pretty seriously and even the
-final examinations, which were now causing trouble
-for many of the pupils, failed to take the fellows’
-minds away from baseball.</p>
-
-<p>Tom got through his examinations very well, if
-not exactly with flying colours. It was hard to
-serve two masters just then and I fancy Tom
-would have got higher marks in an examination
-on baseball than he did on his school courses.
-But he got by fairly creditably, for all of that.
-Sidney, who was always a brilliant student, did
-so well, though, that Tom felt rather humiliated.
-Sidney was now very full of plans and details
-for the graduation party, for he had been elected
-a member of the committee having that important
-function in charge, and Tom saw less of him than
-usual. At the store the early spring business
-had quieted down. June, for some reason, was
-generally a dull month. The sporting goods department
-had done a wonderful business that year,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
-and even Mr. Wright took occasion to compliment
-Tom on the fact.</p>
-
-<p>“Very satisfactory, Tom, very satisfactory,”
-he declared, drumming nervously on the top of
-the showcase. “We—ah—we think you deserve
-much credit. And we’ve decided that—er—well,
-Mr. Cummings will tell you about that.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Cummings, however, had already told him.
-Tom was to have an increase in wages in September,
-on the completion of his second year in
-the store. His salary was to be eight dollars a
-week instead of five. Moreover, when Tom was
-through school and could give his entire time to
-the business, he was to be paid twelve dollars;
-and Mr. Cummings hoped, he said, that Tom would
-decide to stay with them. Tom replied that he
-had no desire to leave.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, we don’t want you to, Tom. You’ve
-made a paying thing of that department of yours
-and I don’t see why it shouldn’t be developed
-even more, nor why, when you have more time to
-give to it, it shouldn’t make more money for us
-than it’s doing now. And you mustn’t think that
-twelve dollars is as far as you can go with us,
-either. We’re willing to pay for what we get,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>
-Tom, and just as soon as you can show us you’re
-worth fifteen or twenty or even thirty, son, you’ll
-get it.”</p>
-
-<p>Life looked very bright to Tom just then, and
-when, on the next Saturday afternoon, he pitched
-Amesville High to a hard-won victory over Lynton,
-going the whole nine innings without a falter
-and receiving the best of support from his team-mates,
-his cup of happiness seemed filled to overflowing.
-Mr. George returned on the morning of
-that day, watched his protégé perform, and had
-all sorts of nice things to say to him afterward.
-To be sure, there was criticism interspersed with
-the praise, for naturally enough Tom still showed
-inexperience, but Tom was quite as grateful for
-the criticism as for the praise. Mr. Cummings
-rubbed his hands all the way back—he seldom
-missed a game now—and beamed proudly upon
-Tom. One would have thought from the senior
-partner’s attitude toward the boy that he was
-directly responsible for the latter’s baseball prowess!
-The school viewed Tom as a hero and impatiently
-reiterated its former conundrum, Why
-had not Tom been allowed to pitch against Petersburg?</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Just wait until next Saturday, though,” it
-said confidently. “We won’t do a thing to those
-dubs, with Pollock in the box! Just watch us!”</p>
-
-<p>There was no Wednesday game that week, as it
-happened, since Turner’s Falls cancelled her date
-because of the illness of two of her best players.
-But there were four days of the hardest sort of
-practice. And the fellows stood in need of it, since
-examinations had seriously interfered with the
-attendance of late. Tom spent Wednesday afternoon
-with the team and worked hard, so hard that
-Mr. George forbade practice in the side-yard when
-they returned home.</p>
-
-<p>“It won’t do to run any risks with your arm,
-Tom,” he said. “I suppose they’ll pitch you
-Saturday. Can’t see what else they can do. So
-you want to take things easy, son.”</p>
-
-<p>The next afternoon—examinations were about
-over and Tom had returned to the store directly
-after lunch—he was called to the telephone. It
-was a neighbour of Uncle Israel’s speaking. Aunt
-Patty had asked her to tell Tom that his uncle
-was very ill and to say that he had better come
-home. Tom caught a train at a few minutes past
-four and went out to Derry. Uncle Israel had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>
-caught cold a day or two before and was pretty
-sick, Aunt Patty explained anxiously. The doctor
-came soon after Tom arrived and was not very
-encouraging. It was lung congestion, he said,
-and Mr. Bowles was a very ill man. Whether
-pneumonia would result he wouldn’t predict.
-Aunt Patty took full command of the situation,
-a neighbour came in to cook, and Tom and John
-Green sat down to a very cheerless supper. Friday
-morning Uncle Israel was rather worse than
-better, and Tom, remembering that he was to accompany
-the baseball team to Petersburg the next
-day, considered calling up Mr. Talbot on the telephone
-and reporting the situation. But the nearest
-telephone was at a neighbour’s house, a full
-half-mile distant—Uncle Israel had always refused
-to have anything to do with such a silly
-contraption—and Tom decided to wait until morning.
-He had already informed Mr. Cummings
-that he would not be back for a day or two. Saturday
-morning, after an anxious night of it,
-Uncle Israel’s condition was improved and when,
-at about eleven o’clock, the doctor arrived he declared
-that all danger was passed and that careful
-nursing and proper diet would bring the patient<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
-around as well as ever. Tom talked it over
-with Aunt Patty, and Aunt Patty said he had
-better go back.</p>
-
-<p>“Sakes alive,” she said, “there ain’t anything
-you can do here, Tom. If a man’s needed, why,
-there’s John; not that I’m pretending he’s much
-use, though!” (This for the benefit of the hired
-man who had just stamped in with fire-wood
-and who only grinned and winked at Tom.)
-“Just you run along and play your games, Tom.
-You’ll come back again to-night, anyway, I
-s’pose?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom hurriedly answered that he would, and
-sprinted for the station, just managing to catch
-the last train that might get him to Amesville
-in time to join the team on its trip to Petersburg.
-But the train, a slow one at best, took longer than
-usual to dawdle into Amesville, and when Tom,
-after stopping at Mrs. Tully’s to change into his
-uniform, reached the place from which the special
-car was to leave, there was no car in sight
-and inquiry elicited the fact that it had been gone
-a full ten minutes. The next regular trolley car
-for Petersburg was not due to leave until a quarter-past
-one. There was nothing for it but to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
-make the best of a bad situation. Tom ate a hurried
-lunch at a small restaurant nearby, all the
-while keeping a close watch on the clock. When,
-finally, he dashed back to the trolley station he
-felt very uncomfortable inside. The car swung
-up and Tom climbed aboard. He was not fortunate
-enough to get a seat and so stood on the rear
-platform. The conductor, in reply to Tom’s inquiry,
-told him that the car would reach Petersburg
-at ten minutes past two, if it was on time.
-Tom silently hoped that it would be, because the
-game was to begin at two-thirty.</p>
-
-<p>But that car seemed possessed of a spirit of
-procrastination and delay. At every siding, after
-it had passed into the country, it stood and waited
-interminable hours, as it seemed to Tom, while
-some car bound in the opposite direction appeared
-leisurely in the distance, bore down upon them
-and, finally, sidled past. A mile outside of Petersburg
-it seemed determined to take root. Tom
-asked what the trouble was—he had secured a seat
-by this time—and the conductor paused long
-enough to inform him that the south-bound car
-was twelve minutes late. It was already five minutes
-past two and Petersburg was a mile away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
-And, besides that, Tom hadn’t the least idea where
-the ball ground was. Another five minutes passed
-and still no car appeared. Tom’s nerves were getting
-panicky. The twelve minutes were already
-gone. He had only twenty minutes left before
-the game. He dropped off the car and started up
-the track.</p>
-
-<p>Five minutes later a road appeared and he
-climbed a fence and reached it, hoping that a
-vehicle would come along and give him a lift. But
-no vehicle appeared and it was almost half-past
-when, much out of breath and very hot, he walked
-into the town. Luckily the ball ground was only
-a block or two away from where he made an inquiry
-and he actually reached the gate on the
-instant of half-past two. He had difficulty convincing
-the youth who presided at the entrance
-that he was a member of the visiting team, but
-finally succeeded and hurried in. The teams were
-still warming up as Tom appeared. Mr. Talbot
-caught sight of him and greeted him with a
-frown.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, we thought you weren’t coming, Pollock,”
-he said. “What was the trouble?”</p>
-
-<p>“I couldn’t leave home until late, sir, and when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
-I got uptown the car had gone. I came along on
-the next one. I’m sorry, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>He didn’t explain that he had walked a mile or
-more or that he felt about as little like pitching
-baseball as anyone could! Mr. Talbot viewed him
-doubtfully.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you’d better sit down and get cooled off.
-How’s your arm?”</p>
-
-<p>“All right, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hm! We’d just decided to let Williams start.
-Perhaps he had better, anyway. Captain Warner!”</p>
-
-<p>In response to the hail Frank Warner joined
-them by the bench. “Here’s Pollock,” said the
-coach. “He missed a train or something. What
-do you think about him? Shall we start him or
-let Williams go in?”</p>
-
-<p>Frank nodded to Tom. “Why, Pollock’s here,
-Mr. Talbot, and he might as well pitch,” he answered.
-“He’s all right, isn’t he?”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess so. I only wondered whether to save
-him for a few innings.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t think it’s wise to take any chances,”
-replied Frank. “We need this game, you know,
-sir.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Mr. Talbot nodded assent, glanced at his watch,
-and turned again to Tom. “If you’re to start
-this,” he said, “you’d better warm up. Johnson,
-come over here and catch Pollock, will you?”</p>
-
-<p>Johnson, who played first base on the scrubs
-and had accompanied the team as a substitute infielder,
-backed against the netting and Tom unlimbered.
-It was nearly twenty minutes to three
-now and Petersburg was clamouring for the start.
-Mr. Talbot was talking to the umpire, a small
-ferret-eyed man in a dingy blue baseball jacket,
-and Tom fancied that he was merely trying to
-delay the game long enough to allow him to warm
-up. Pete Farrar and Toby Williams had finished
-their preliminary exercise and gone back to the
-visitors’ bench. Pete had frowned upon Tom’s
-belated arrival, but Toby, who had more to lose
-to-day by Tom’s advent, waved cheerfully to
-him.</p>
-
-<p>It took only three or four passes of the ball
-to inform Tom that the morning’s exertion and
-nervous anxiety had left him in poor shape to
-pitch his best game, but as he went on his arm
-and wrist regained something of their skill. He
-wished that Mr. George was there. He’d have felt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
-more confident. But the detective had not accompanied
-the team to-day.</p>
-
-<p>“All right, fellows,” announced Captain Warner.
-“High School at the bat. You’re up,
-Buster.”</p>
-
-<p>And Tom, rolling the ball toward the bench,
-followed it and took his place, regretful that he
-had not had another ten minutes of work.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</a><br />
-<small>KNOCKED OUT OF THE BOX</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Amesville had her batting eye with her to-day
-and Buster started things moving at once. By the
-time Tommy Hughes was thrown out at second on
-an attempted steal one run had crossed the plate
-and the fifty or sixty youths who had followed the
-Amesville team to the enemy’s lair were cheering
-hilariously. And when Tom stepped into the
-pitcher’s box they cheered again.</p>
-
-<p>From the first it was evident that Tom’s offerings
-were not breaking right. Clever fielding held
-Petersburg away from the platter, but two hits
-were made off Tom in that initial inning and one
-man got as far as third.</p>
-
-<p>In the second neither side scored. Calvert, the
-Petersburg pitcher, settled down and quickly disposed
-of the next three batters on the Amesville
-list, and Tom managed to strike out the opposing
-catcher and pitcher, no great feat, and then gave
-a base on balls to the head of the Petersburg list.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>
-But a long fly was pulled down by Tommy Hughes,
-out in centre, and the trouble was over.</p>
-
-<p>Things went along uneventfully until the fourth,
-Tom now and then showing a flash of real form
-and receiving eager applause from his school-mates
-on such occasions. But it was sharp infield
-work that held the enemy at bay through
-those first four innings, for Tom’s slants were not
-difficult to reach to-day and more than once the
-smallest ounce of luck would have slid a Petersburg
-runner across the plate. In the first of the
-fourth Amesville filled the bases by some slashing
-stick-work on the part of Meyers, Warner, and
-Morris, Sidney contributing a pretty bunt that
-rolled along first-base-line so slowly that neither
-pitcher nor first baseman could reach it before
-Sidney had crossed the bag. Then Smithie
-brought groans of disappointment by fanning.
-With two gone, it was up to Joe Kenny, and Joe
-was not much of a hitter. But by looking and acting
-anxious to hit, Joe caused the Petersburg
-pitcher to waste two balls. Then a strike went
-over and then a third ball was called. After that
-Joe had only to wait. A second strike followed,
-but what should have been a third went a little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
-wide of base and Joe walked, pushing in a run.
-The Petersburg pitcher had a touch of nerves then
-and Sam Craig slammed safely for a base, scoring
-two more and going to second on the throw to
-the plate. Amesville was howling joyfully now,
-and Petersburg was anxious. There was a conference
-in the box between the Petersburg pitcher
-and captain, while Tom took his position at the
-plate. Joe Kenny was on third and Sam Craig on
-second, and there were two out. The Amesville
-rooters begged loudly for a hit.</p>
-
-<p>“Just touch it, Tom, just touch it!” shouted
-Tommy from back of first. “He’s easy, old
-man!”</p>
-
-<p>Being a pitcher and, to the Petersburg battery,
-an unknown quantity as yet—he had been easily
-struck out on his previous appearance at the plate—Tom
-was not viewed seriously by the enemy. A
-wide one went as a ball without an offer from
-Tom. Then what was meant to be an out-drop
-went wrong and the pitcher paused to pull himself
-together. A good one, straight over the plate,
-was missed by the swinging bat. Then, with a
-change of pace, Petersburg’s slab artist offered
-a slow ball. But he didn’t fool Tom with it. Tom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>
-hit at it a trifle too soon, but he got it, and the
-ball flew straight and hard down the first-base-line,
-over the baseman’s head, and into right field. It
-was a clean one-bagger and it scored Kenny and
-Craig and left Tom on first.</p>
-
-<p>Buster went to bat, and Tom got the signal to
-steal on the third pitch. He made it by a clever
-slide. Buster was two strikes to the bad now.
-The pitcher made it two and two and then curved
-a slow ball inside. But Buster connected with it
-and the sphere flew across the diamond. Tom
-lighted out for third at the crack of the bat and
-ran his hardest, but Buster was easily out at first
-and the inning was over.</p>
-
-<p>Now base-running to a pitcher already tired is
-no great aid and Tom went into the box a minute
-later feeling rather the worse for wear. The first
-batsman obligingly sent up a short fly which Captain
-Warner got by a run back into the outfield,
-but the next man was a canny batsman and before
-Tom knew it the score was two balls and no
-strikes. An out-shoot, Tom’s best ball, barely cut
-the corner for a strike. Sam Craig signalled for
-a low one and a third ball resulted. There was
-nothing to do then but try the groove, and this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>
-Tom did. But there was little speed in what was
-meant for a fast ball and the batsman cracked out
-a long two-bagger into left field. Then Tom’s
-troubles began in earnest.</p>
-
-<p>His curves refused to break for him where they
-should, his drop bit the plate, and his fast ball no
-longer had any “ginger.” And he was conscious
-that his arm was hot and tired and that his head
-was aching. With two strikes on the next batsman,
-a straight ball was offered and was slammed
-into right field for a base, bringing in Petersburg’s
-first tally. Having tasted blood, the enemy
-became unmanageable. Before he knew it, almost,
-the bases were filled and there was but one out!
-Then, Sam Craig doing his best to settle him
-down, Tom finally struck out the Petersburg
-catcher. Hearty cheers rewarded this performance
-and it seemed that Tom had found himself
-again. But four balls was the best he could do
-against the opposing pitcher and another run was
-forced across.</p>
-
-<p>Tom was doing his best to follow Sam’s signals,
-but his command over the ball was weak.
-Once he tried a “knuckle-ball,” in the hope of
-disposing of a batsman who had two strikes and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>
-three balls on him. But the “knuckle” started
-all wrong and swooped down before it crossed the
-plate, and Tom had given another pass and forced
-over the third run. By this time Coach Talbot
-was watching anxiously and Toby Williams was
-warming up. Captain Warner strode in from
-his position at second, scolding angrily.</p>
-
-<p>“For the love of Mike, Pollock, let ’em hit it
-if you have to, but don’t pass ’em! What’s the
-matter with you, anyway? I thought you could
-pitch! Gee, you’re a lemon and no mistake! Now
-settle down and do something. Get us out of
-this.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom wanted very much to reply, “Get me out
-of this!” but he didn’t. He still hoped that he
-could pull himself together again. If he could
-get through this inning with no further damage,
-he told himself, he could rest awhile and come
-back feeling better. But he was doomed to disappointment.
-The succeeding hitter settled
-Tom’s hopes then and there. Leaning against the
-first ball pitched, he cracked it far out into left
-field, cleared the bases, and put himself on third!</p>
-
-<p>Petersburg went delirious. Tom, dazed,
-watched Sam Craig, ball in hand, hurry toward<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>
-him and heard Frank Warner’s shrill and angry
-voice behind him. What Sam said he didn’t know.
-Warner was facing him scowlingly.</p>
-
-<p>“That’ll do for you, Pollock,” he said disgustedly.
-“You to the bench.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom turned with hanging head and walked
-across the diamond. It seemed a long way to
-where the three or four substitutes were sitting
-and he was horribly conscious of the gaze of hundreds
-of eyes. When Toby Williams, hurrying by
-him, said, “Hard luck, Tom!” he made no answer.
-A half-hearted ripple of applause was given
-him as he went off, a ripple which quickly broadened
-to a wave as Toby Williams took the ball
-from Sam Craig. Coach Talbot held out Tom’s
-coat to him.</p>
-
-<p>“Not your day, Pollock,” he said kindly.
-“Too bad.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom smiled with an effort as he sank into his
-seat. Johnson offered him a dipperful of water,
-and Tom accepted it and pretended to drink. But,
-although his mouth was parched, he was not
-thirsty. At the end of the bench Pete Farrar observed
-him with ill-concealed satisfaction. Steve
-Arbuckle, the manager, brought his score-book<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>
-from farther along the bench and seated himself
-beside Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“That was a tough inning, Tom,” he said cheerfully.
-“Don’t you mind, though. We’ll get them
-yet, old man. You don’t look very fit to-day.
-Heat troubling you?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I don’t think so,” murmured Tom. “I
-don’t know what. I—I feel sort of done up.
-What’s the score, Steve?”</p>
-
-<p>“Seven to six,” was the answer. But it was
-no sooner made than Steve was forced to change
-it. An infield hit had been fielded to the plate
-by Frank Warner to head off the man on third
-and the ball had rolled out of Sam Craig’s hands.
-The tying run was in and the runner was safe on
-first. It was what Steve growlingly called a
-“bone-head play,” for had Frank thrown to first
-he could easily have caught the batsman. That
-miscue worried Toby so that he passed the next
-man and allowed a hit to the succeeding one and
-the bases were filled once more. But a foul to
-Buster ended the inning a minute or two later
-with the score 7 to 7.</p>
-
-<p>And so the game went for two more innings,
-Toby Williams pitching very good ball, all things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>
-considered, and holding the enemy scoreless. On
-the other hand, the Petersburg pitcher was steady
-as a rock and Amesville failed to get a runner past
-second. In the eighth inning, however, Toby had
-a bad ten minutes and Petersburg drew ahead by
-one tally, a lead that was soon cut down in the
-first of the ninth when Sam Craig started things
-going with a safe bunt that put him on first, from
-which station he was advanced by Toby Williams’s
-sacrifice. Then Buster singled, Meyers drew a
-pass, and, with bases full, Captain Warner lined
-out a two-bagger into right and scored two runs.
-Before the inning was over two more had been
-added and Amesville breathed easier.</p>
-
-<p>Tom watched from the bench, listening to Steve
-Arbuckle’s muttered comments as he worked a
-busy pencil over the score-sheet, and hoping devoutly
-that Amesville would win. If she didn’t,
-the fellows would, he knew, blame the defeat on
-him. And they would be right in doing so. With
-a three-run lead when she took the field for the
-final half-inning, Amesville seemed sure of the
-victory. But a bad ten minutes followed. Petersburg
-sprang to the assault viciously and hammered
-Toby Williams until, when there was a runner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>
-on third and one on first and only one out
-to the visitors’ credit, Pete Farrar was hustled
-to the rescue.</p>
-
-<p>Pete met scarcely a better fate than Toby.
-Petersburg scored a run and filled the bases.
-Then a clout to Sidney in right field, which he
-caught after a desperate chase half-way to the
-infield, scored another runner and made the second
-out. There were still men on third and
-second and Petersburg’s captain was up. But
-Fate was kind to Amesville and a liner into
-Smithie’s glove ended the combat. Amesville had
-won, 10 to 9, and the series stood one game each.
-All depended on the third contest, a week away.</p>
-
-<p>Tom, glad of the outcome but discouraged and
-disheartened, rode tiredly back to Amesville with
-an aching arm and a splitting head. He had, he
-told himself bitterly, pitched his last game of
-baseball!</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII</a><br />
-<small>UNCLE ISRAEL SITS UP</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>It was nearly six o’clock when the team and its
-still enthusiastic supporters reached Amesville,
-and Tom, declining Sidney’s invitation to dinner,
-went on downtown and alighted at a corner near
-the hardware store. His train to Derry would not
-leave until a few minutes before eight and he had
-two hours to get rid of. He might have returned
-to the boarding-house, but he was in no mood to
-meet the tableful of people and have to recite the
-fortunes of the day. He would, he decided, go
-into a lunch room later and get a bite to eat. He
-wasn’t hungry, anyway. His head still felt heavy,
-although the splitting ache had gone. As he
-passed the store he glanced in. It was Saturday
-and so it would not close until nine o’clock. The
-front of the store was empty, but Joe Gillig was
-busy with a customer farther on. Tom turned
-back and went in. As well stay there as anywhere
-for an hour or so. He hoped, though, that Mr.
-Cummings had left.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Joe nodded to him as he entered, and Tom
-passed around to the back of his counter amongst
-the sporting goods department were handed over
-his attention, for all letters or orders concerning
-the sporting-goods department were handed over
-to Tom, who, with the occasional assistance of
-Miss Miller’s typewriter, managed replies to such
-as required them. To-night the mail contained
-several orders, one from a small baseball club
-which wanted nine uniforms, three bats and a
-catcher’s mask, and several circulars and catalogues.
-Tom pinned together the letter from the
-baseball club and the accompanying measurements
-and laid it aside for attention on Monday. Then
-he glanced idly through a summer catalogue of
-a dealer in athletic goods and, while he was still
-turning its pages, the lone customer went out and
-Joe Gillig sauntered down the aisle. Joe had
-grown considerably older since the day when he
-had shown Tom around the store, less because
-of the lapse of time than of a sense of responsibility,
-for Joe was engaged to be married and
-the happy event was due to take place in the autumn.
-Joe’s red moustache was now wonderfully
-luxuriant, and Tom, who liked to twit Joe about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>
-it, pretended to believe that the latter touched it
-up with the red ink every day.</p>
-
-<p>“How did the game come out, Tom?” asked
-Joe, seating himself on the edge of the counter.</p>
-
-<p>“We won, ten to nine.”</p>
-
-<p>“Fine! Anyone would think to look at you,
-though, that you’d been whipped to a froth.
-What’s the matter?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing. I’m tired. I missed the special car
-and the next one was late and I had to walk about
-a mile. And then——”</p>
-
-<p>“Joe, did I leave my umbrella in the office?
-Just have a look, will you?” And Mr. Cummings
-who had hurried in, glanced suspiciously at the
-clouds piling up behind the steeple of the church
-farther down the street. Then his eyes fell on
-Tom, and, “Hello!” he said. “I didn’t know
-you were here, Tom. I just heard about the
-game.” Mr. Cummings paused and eyed Tom
-doubtfully. “Glad we won,” he added.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Must have been a fine game. Wish I might
-have seen it. Hm!”</p>
-
-<p>Joe came back with the umbrella, and Mr. Cummings
-walked to the window and looked out.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Guess we’ll have some rain,” he said. “Must
-have been pretty hot over at Petersburg.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, it was hot, real hot.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Cummings walked to the door, paused irresolutely,
-and turned back again. “I dare say
-you’ve had your supper, Tom,” he observed.</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, not yet. I’m not very hungry.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, well, you have to eat, you know. I’m
-eating downtown to-night; wife’s away. Better
-come along with me and we’ll have something together.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thanks, but I ain’t—I’m not hungry, sir,
-and——”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, come and watch me then,” replied the
-other gaily. “Besides, I want to hear about the
-game. I’ll be back about seven-thirty, Joe. Did
-Mr. Wright say whether he was coming back to-night?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, he didn’t say. He left his light coat
-in the office, though.”</p>
-
-<p>“That doesn’t mean anything,” Mr. Cummings
-laughed. “He probably doesn’t know
-where it is and is looking all over town for it!
-Come on, Tom.”</p>
-
-<p>So Tom, wanting to refuse but not liking to, put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>
-his cap on and joined the senior partner. “I’m
-in baseball togs, sir,” he said. “I guess it’ll look
-sort of funny, won’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“What of it? You ought to be proud to be
-seen in that uniform, Tom. Mustn’t forget you’re
-a hero, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom smiled crookedly. “I guess you haven’t
-heard much about the game, Mr. Cummings.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes, I have; a little, anyway. I ran across
-Mr. Talbot at the barber’s.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then you know I’m not much of a hero,
-sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Eh?” asked Mr. Cummings with elaborate
-carelessness. “Oh, you mean because you had
-an off-day in the box? Pshaw! that happens to all
-of them, Tom. The best pitchers in the Big
-Leagues get theirs just about so often.” They
-turned into a restaurant and found seats at a
-small table. It was a much more fashionable place
-than Tom was accustomed to and he felt rather ill
-at ease until he had seated himself and so hidden
-most of his attire behind the tablecloth. “Yes,”
-continued his companion, taking up a menu, “I’ve
-seen more than one top-notcher get slammed
-around the lot for keeps, Tom. What do you say<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>
-to a chop and some shoe-string potatoes and a
-salad? Sort of hot to eat much, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom murmuringly assented, and Mr. Cummings
-gave the order.</p>
-
-<p>“You had an off-day, Tom, that’s all. Next
-time you’ll go in and hold ’em tight. You see if
-I’m not right.”</p>
-
-<p>“There won’t be any next time, Mr. Cummings.
-I’ve quit.”</p>
-
-<p>“Quit!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir. I almost lost that game to-day for
-them, sir. I guess I ain’t cut out for a pitcher,
-after all.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pshaw! That’s foolishness! You can’t expect
-to be in top form every day, son! No one
-can! Don’t let me hear any more talk from you
-about quitting!” And Mr. Cummings, tossing
-aside the menu, looked quite fierce. Tom smiled
-feebly.</p>
-
-<p>“I guess they won’t want me, anyway,” he
-muttered. “I—I was perfectly punk!”</p>
-
-<p>“What of it? There’s another game coming,
-isn’t there? What was the trouble to-day, Tom?”</p>
-
-<p>Then Tom told about Uncle Israel’s illness and
-how anxious they had all been; how he had decided<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>
-to accompany the team at almost the last
-minute and had rushed to the train and, finally,
-had had to foot it for a mile when he got to
-Petersburg.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, Great Scott!” exclaimed Mr. Cummings.
-“I should think you might have an off-day
-after that! Why, walking a mile in the hot
-sun is enough to put any pitcher off his game!
-What the dickens did you do it for?”</p>
-
-<p>“There wasn’t any other way to get there.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then you should have told Mr. Talbot about
-it and he would have let you off or had you rest
-up for three or four innings, anyway. It was a
-piece of foolishness, Tom, and you deserved to
-get knocked out of the box.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir. And I was.”</p>
-
-<p>The supper arrived then and for a moment or
-two Mr. Cummings was too busy to continue his
-remarks. Tom, to his surprise, found himself in
-possession of a very healthy appetite and fell to
-with vigour. Mr. Cummings added two glasses of
-iced coffee to his order and when he had sampled
-one of them he sighed contentedly and looked
-across the table again.</p>
-
-<p>“After you get that chop out of the way, Tom,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>
-you’ll feel better, I guess. What did you have
-to eat at noon?”</p>
-
-<p>“A couple of sandwiches and a piece of pie,
-sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Sandwiches and pie! What do you know
-about that!” Mr. Cummings raised a horrified
-gaze to the ceiling. “What kind of fodder is
-that, Tom, to go to work on? What you need is
-a nurse!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom smiled. Life was beginning to brighten.
-The chop was excellent, the potatoes hot and crisp,
-and the iced coffee reached the right spot. After
-all, he reflected, perhaps he had been premature
-in resolving to sever his connection with baseball!
-And he was quite convinced of it when Mr. Cummings
-had got through lecturing him and it was
-time to hustle to the station for his train to Derry.
-They parted on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant,
-Mr. Cummings sending Tom away with
-a heartening slap on the back and the admonition
-to cheer up and get his nerve back.</p>
-
-<p>Tom found Uncle Israel’s condition still further
-improved when he reached home. “He et a good
-supper,” announced Aunt Patty in triumph.
-“Milk toast and the white of two eggs he had.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span>
-And he’s been asleep ever since half-past seven.”
-She listened and nodded satisfiedly. “And don’t
-you make no noise as you go up, Tom,” she
-added.</p>
-
-<p>The next day Uncle Israel was well enough
-to be seen, and Tom tiptoed into the room
-in the afternoon. Uncle Israel, propped up
-against the pillows, his big gnarled hands spread
-out on the checked comforter, looked pale and
-grim. But a slight smile fluttered over his face
-as Tom came forward anxiously.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you didn’t get rid o’ me this time,” said
-Uncle Israel rather weakly. “Guess I’m tougher
-than you thought, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>Tom flushed. “I guess nobody wanted to get
-rid of you, sir,” he replied awkwardly. Uncle
-Israel grunted.</p>
-
-<p>“Ain’t in no hurry to get the farm then?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, I’m not. Besides, I didn’t know—I
-mean——”</p>
-
-<p>“You mean you wasn’t certain you’d get it,
-eh? Well, you will when I get through with it.
-And there’s a tidy bit goes with it, too. If I
-didn’t leave it to you, who would I leave it to?”
-Uncle Israel glared quite ferociously.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“I hope you won’t leave it to anyone, sir,
-for a long time yet. Are you feeling much
-better?”</p>
-
-<p>“Humph! I guess I’ll pull through. Will if
-that woman don’t starve me to death. What you
-been doing, Tom?”</p>
-
-<p>“I played baseball for the high school yesterday,
-sir. I pitched for them.”</p>
-
-<p>Uncle Israel nodded. “That’s play. What you
-been doing in the way of work? Cummings and
-Wright still satisfied with you?”</p>
-
-<p>“I think so. You remember I told you they’d
-promised me a raise of wages in September.”</p>
-
-<p>“Must have money to waste,” Uncle Israel
-grumbled. But his eyes held a kindly gleam in
-spite of his ungracious tone and Tom suspected
-that Uncle Israel was secretly a bit proud of his
-success. “I s’pose your school’s about over,
-ain’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir, it closes Wednesday.”</p>
-
-<p>“Learned anything, have you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Lots, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Humph! I guess, if the truth was told, you’ve
-been too much taken up with those games o’ baseball
-to learn much. Sold that pump yet?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, not yet. I guess I won’t be able to
-right away.”</p>
-
-<p>“How much you askin’ for it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Thirty dollars.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thirty dollars! Want to get rich in a hurry,
-don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“That isn’t too much for it, sir. It’s in perfect
-condition. It worked like a breeze when the contractors
-had it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Humph! Wouldn’t take twenty for it, eh?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, I wouldn’t want to.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nor twenty-five?”</p>
-
-<p>“N-no, I don’t think so. Maybe I might,
-though, if anyone wanted it and would haul it
-away at that price.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll take it,” said Uncle Israel.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII</a><br />
-<small>“PLAY BALL!”</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Tom stared, open-mouthed. “You—you’ll take
-it, sir?”</p>
-
-<p>Uncle Israel nodded. “If it don’t work like
-you say it will, though, I won’t pay a cent for it.
-We ain’t had a decent breath o’ wind for a month
-and we’ve been haulin’ all the water for the barn
-by hand. Windmills ain’t worth ten cents without
-wind and that one out there ain’t done a mite o’
-work for a month, not to speak of.”</p>
-
-<p>“But—but if you want it, sir, you may have it,”
-said Tom eagerly. “You’re perfectly welcome to
-it, Uncle.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe I am, but I’ll pay for it. You start
-it out here when you get back. But if it don’t
-pump water for me, back it goes, Tom. Now you
-tell that female downstairs that, if she don’t fetch
-me up something to eat inside of five minutes, I’ll
-get up and forage for myself!”</p>
-
-<p>When, on Monday morning, Tom informed him
-that Uncle Israel had bought the pump back, Mr.
-Cummings laughed until the tears came. “Tom,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>
-he said finally, “you’ll be the death of me! Think
-of palming that thing off on your uncle again!”</p>
-
-<p>“But it’s perfectly all right, sir,” insisted
-Tom.</p>
-
-<p>“Sure it’s all right, son. I’m not saying it
-isn’t. But the idea of selling it back to Israel
-Bowles gets me!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom couldn’t see as much humour in it as Mr.
-Cummings, but he smiled and hurried out to arrange
-for having the pump hauled out to the farm.
-When he returned to the store, Mr. Cummings
-was telling the junior partner about it, and Mr.
-Wright was cackling as if it was the best joke in
-the world.</p>
-
-<p>That was a busy week for Tom. School closed
-on Wednesday, but before that there was a big
-dance in the school hall given by the graduating
-class. Tom went, dressed in his best suit of black
-serge, which was rather shiny by daylight but
-looked almost new at night, and had a rather enjoyable
-time. He didn’t dance, for he didn’t know
-how and would have been too shy if he had, but
-there were lots of other boys who didn’t dance
-either, and they had a merry time looking on with
-superior manners and passing jokes about the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>
-others. Besides that, there were wonderful refreshments
-and the non-dancers soon discovered
-that they possessed a distinct advantage in being
-able to visit the tables as often as they wished!
-Sidney, with a blue-and-gold badge pinned to the
-lapel of his evening coat, was in fine feather and
-quite in his element. Tom didn’t see very much
-of him, for Sidney was an indefatigable dancer
-and was, besides, on the committee.</p>
-
-<p>The next day the graduation exercises took
-place in the forenoon and at three o’clock the High
-School team met the Amesville Electric Company
-nine. The Electrics were a good deal older than
-their opponents, but in spite of that High School
-had no difficulty in beating them, 14 to 6. Tom
-found himself again that afternoon. Each of the
-three pitchers was put in for three innings, Pete
-Farrar starting the game, Tom following him,
-and Toby Williams finishing out. Tom’s slants
-worked to perfection and in the three innings
-that he pitched only two men reached first base.
-All the runs made by the Electrics were scored
-during Pete’s period on the mound. Toby, if he
-allowed the enemy to press him hard once or twice,
-emerged with a clean slate.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>On Thursday there was a big picnic at a neighbouring
-grove, but Tom, a bit conscience-stricken
-at having been away from the store so much, did
-not attend. Final baseball practice was held Friday
-forenoon and the boys had a severe siege of
-it. The pitchers worked for nearly an hour under
-Mr. George’s direction before they were released
-to take part in fielding practice. Mr.
-George, on Monday, had heard Tom’s account of
-his Saturday’s fiasco in the box and had reiterated
-what Mr. Cummings had said.</p>
-
-<p>“You shouldn’t have tried to pitch, Tom,” he
-said. “You should have told Bat that you
-weren’t fit for it and he’d have let you off.”</p>
-
-<p>“I know, sir, but after going to all that trouble
-to get there in time for the game——”</p>
-
-<p>“That hadn’t anything to do with it. Your
-part is to help win games, Tom, and if you can
-do it better by staying out you ought to stay out.
-Get that? There’s no sense in a man’s pitching if
-he isn’t in shape, because it’s a cinch that the
-other fellows are going to land on him and run
-away with the game. Take my advice, son, and
-after this when you’re not up to the mark you say
-so. You know better than the manager—I mean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>
-the coach—how you’re feeling. It’s the team
-first, every time, son.”</p>
-
-<p>Tom wondered a hundred times that week
-whether he was to be given a chance to redeem
-himself. Wondered, too, whether, if he was allowed
-to pitch on Saturday, he would be able to
-do any better than before. But he felt pretty confident
-after the game with the Electrics that he
-would. He realised that his inability to pitch good
-ball last Saturday was due to physical weariness;
-and mental weariness, too, perhaps; and not to
-any loss of cunning in that right arm of his.</p>
-
-<p>Saturday dawned breathlessly still and very
-hot, too hot to eat any breakfast, Tom decided.
-But Mr. George, who came to the table while Tom
-was still trifling with a piece of toast and a glass
-of milk, decided otherwise and made the boy eat
-two soft-boiled eggs. At the store Mr. Cummings
-fussed about him all the morning, taking work
-out of his hands and forever bidding him take
-things easy and not get tired. If Mr. Cummings
-could have had his way, Tom would have remained
-seated in an arm-chair in the office all the forenoon!
-The game was to begin at three-thirty instead
-of two-thirty in order to avoid as much of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span>
-the heat as possible. At luncheon Tom was much
-too restless and excited, too anxious, in fact, to
-eat without persuasion. Mr. George supplied the
-persuasion. After luncheon, seeing that his protégé
-was “up in the air,” to use his own expression,
-the detective took him into the side-yard and
-let him pitch three or four dozen balls leisurely in
-order to take his mind off the coming contest.
-Finally, when Mr. George had called a halt, and
-they were back in the shade of the porch, Tom
-asked the question that he had been eager to ask
-for days.</p>
-
-<p>“I wonder——” he began. Then he stopped.
-At last he started again: “Do you suppose, Mr.
-George, they’re going to let me pitch to-day?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sure to. I don’t know whether Bat will start
-you or Toby Williams, but it’s going to take more
-than one pitcher to get through a game on a day
-like this. So you’re certain to get your chance.
-When you do, Tom, just remember that you aren’t
-expected to perform any miracles. Lots of young
-pitchers get the idea fixed in their heads that the
-whole game depends on them. They get so
-anxious and keyed up that they don’t do themselves
-justice. Just remember that you’ve got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span>
-eight other fellows with you, Tom, and let them
-do their share. When you get where it’s a case
-of put one across or give a base, why, slam it over
-and let someone else worry. And whatever you
-do, son, work slow. Take all the time you want—and
-then some! Don’t let anyone hurry you.
-It’s better for you and it’s harder on the batsman.
-Lots of men can’t stand a pitcher who’s
-deliberate. They want to hit and hit right away,
-and the more the pitcher keeps ’em waiting the
-more anxious they get. And there’s no one easier
-to handle than an over-anxious batter. He will
-reach out after wide ones and step back for inside
-ones and it’s dollars to doughnuts you’ve got
-his number right at the start. Just remember
-that, Tom. Time doesn’t cost you a cent. Help
-yourself to it!”</p>
-
-<p>Then, later, on the way out to the grounds on
-the car, they went over once more the peculiarities
-of the players of the Petersburg team. Mr.
-George had them all catalogued as to their batting.
-This one was death on low ones outside and
-mustn’t have that sort. This one was a good
-bunter and must not be fed high ones. This one,
-with runners on second or third and the game at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>
-a critical place, should be passed, since he was a
-hard clouter. And so on, Tom listening and
-memorising.</p>
-
-<p>“Of course, this is up to Craig,” said Mr.
-George, “but he may forget or mix his signals
-and so there’s no harm in your knowing what
-you’re up against. Here we are. Pile out!”</p>
-
-<p>That final game drew the biggest crowd of the
-season, although the stands were but half-filled
-when the team assembled for warming-up work.
-By the time the game was called, however, the
-seats were all occupied and there was a good
-sprinkling of spectators along the base-lines.
-About everyone we know was there. Mr. Cummings,
-of course, rather excited and waving a
-palm-leaf fan in a corner of the players’ bench;
-Mr. and Mrs. Morris in a front row of the stand
-near third base; (Tom went over and chatted with
-them a minute just before the teams took their
-positions;) Mr. Tully, whom Tom had presented
-with a ticket, his coat in his lap and his pipe sending
-a cloud of smoke straight up in the still air;
-and several others from the boarding-house, who
-had in some way or other managed to get the afternoon
-off.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The umpire was the physical director from the
-Young Men’s Christian Association, who caused
-some amusement by appearing with the upper
-part of his body attired in a striped blazer of
-black and yellow, which he kept carefully buttoned
-all during the game, thus giving the impression
-that there was nothing underneath!</p>
-
-<p>Each team warmed up three pitchers, not a
-very difficult feat on such a day. Of the local
-twirlers, Tom and Toby looked in the pink of condition,
-but Pete Farrar had a fagged look about
-him. At a few minutes before the half-hour the
-diamond emptied and the players retired to the
-benches. Then the umpire walked to the plate,
-swept it with a broom, and looked toward the
-Amesville bench.</p>
-
-<p>“All right, High School,” announced Mr. Talbot.
-“On the run, now! Pollock, you’ll start
-the game. Take it easy; we’ve got nine innings
-to go and this is some hot!”</p>
-
-<p>The fielders trotted across the sun-smitten turf
-to their places, Sam Craig donned his mask, Tom
-walked to the mound, the first of the Petersburg
-batsmen stepped to the plate, and the umpire
-called, “Play ball!”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV</a><br />
-<small>PITCHER POLLOCK</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>It <em>was</em> hot! Tom’s head felt as though it was being
-slowly baked in spite of his cap as, getting
-the signal from Sam, he swung his arms up and
-sped a fast ball across in the groove. Behind
-him the cheerful voices of his team-mates made
-a spattering chorus.</p>
-
-<p>“Here we go Tom! You’ve got his number,
-old man!”</p>
-
-<p>“No one walks, Tom!”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s pitching ’em, Tom, old boy! That’s
-pitching ’em!”</p>
-
-<p>“No one sees first this inning, fellows! On
-your toes now!”</p>
-
-<p>The head of the Petersburg batting-list retired
-to the bench, flicking his bat disgustedly toward
-the pile. Just four balls had settled him. The
-next youth up was a clever bunter and the infield
-shortened a little. Tom sped them in low; one
-strike; one ball; two strikes; two balls——</p>
-
-<p>Then the batsman was streaking for first and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>
-Bert Meyers, coming on the dead run, was scooping
-up the trickling ball. A quick underhand
-throw, a stab into the air of Buster’s “meat
-hand,” and two men were out. Petersburg put
-the next batsman on first, but went into the field
-a minute or two later when Tom made his second
-strike-out. Amesville cheered then and kept on
-cheering until Buster had tapped the plate with
-his bat and stood awaiting his fate. But neither
-Buster nor Bert Meyers, who followed, was
-able to solve the opposing pitcher. Frank
-Warner reached his base on a scratch hit
-that was too hard for second baseman to handle,
-but was out a minute later on an attempted
-steal.</p>
-
-<p>Again Amesville took the field and again Tom,
-working with machine-like precision, mowed the
-enemy down in one, two, three order. For Amesville,
-Tommy Hughes struck out, Sidney reached
-first on a wild throw by second baseman, Smithie
-fanned, and Kenny went out to centre fielder.
-Calvert, the Petersburg slab artist, was in fine
-form to-day. When all is said, there’s nothing
-like a roasting hot day to show a pitcher at his
-best, and it was very evident that the redoubtable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span>
-Calvert, a small, wiry youth with a shock of hair
-the colour of butcher’s paper, liked the conditions.
-In spite of the fact that up to the end of
-the third inning no one got beyond first base, the
-contest proved breathlessly exciting to both the
-supporters of the home team and to the good-sized
-contingent that had travelled over from the
-neighbouring town. It was a pitchers’ battle,
-with the honours about even, but one never
-knows in baseball when a break will come. A
-lucky hit, an error at a critical moment, a close
-decision by an umpire—any of these things are
-often sufficient to start a rally and, in a few short
-minutes, change the entire complexion of the
-game. When Petersburg came to bat in
-the first of the fourth there was tension evidenced
-amongst players and spectators both.
-Petersburg had three of her best batters coming
-up.</p>
-
-<p>If Tom felt the tension he didn’t show it. Mr.
-George, seated on the bench beside Coach Talbot,
-voiced admiration in low tones. “I never saw a
-youngster who had the form that kid’s got,” he
-said to the coach as Tom, settling his visor over
-his eyes, leaned forward to get the signal from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span>
-the catcher. “He’s a born pitcher, Bat; you can’t
-get around it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” Mr. Talbot nodded. “In about three
-years from now he will be a wonder. Ever hear
-him say whether he was going to college?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve heard him say he wanted to,” replied
-the detective, “but he doesn’t think he will be
-able to. There isn’t much money, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>“He’s got to go, Ben. I’m going to talk to
-him about it. I’d like to steer him to my college,
-if I could.”</p>
-
-<p>“He could play professional ball in two or
-three years if he wanted to,” mused Mr. George.
-“I could get him a try-out any day, and it
-wouldn’t be long before he’d be grabbed up by
-one of the Big League teams.”</p>
-
-<p>“Time enough for that when he’s been through
-college, Ben. Besides, and meaning no offence,
-the boy’s too smart to waste himself playing baseball
-for a living.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know, Bat. Baseball isn’t what it used
-to be, and ball players aren’t like what they were
-once. Not that I’m knocking the old-timers,
-either. I come pretty near being one myself. But
-there’s a pretty fine, self-respecting lot of men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span>
-playing professional ball these days. Why, say,
-it’s just as respectable a profession as—as medicine
-or law, isn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe. I didn’t mean that. The trouble is
-a ball player uses up the best years of his life
-getting nowhere, Ben.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know about that, either. As I said
-before, it isn’t like it used to be. Ball players are
-pretty smart nowadays, and by the time they’re
-getting by they’ve worked up a nice little business
-on the side or saved up a tidy bunch of
-money.”</p>
-
-<p>“If they’re the saving kind,” answered the
-coach with a smile. “You know yourself, Ben,
-you wouldn’t deliberately advise Pollock to become
-a professional ball player. Now would
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>“N-no, I guess I wouldn’t. Still, if there
-wasn’t anything better——”</p>
-
-<p>“There is, though, for that chap. I don’t know
-what it is, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders
-and he’s naturally smart and not afraid of
-work. If he was my boy, I’d put him into college,
-give him a couple of years to look around and
-decide on a profession or an occupation, and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span>
-see that he buckled down and worked hard.
-What’s his father like?”</p>
-
-<p>“Dead. He lives with an uncle out at Derry.
-The uncle’s a farmer and a bit tight-fisted, they
-tell me. Maybe Tom will get the property when
-the old man dies. I don’t know.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, he’s got two more years at high school.
-By that time—I’ll have a talk with him some day.
-I haven’t much money myself, Ben, but I’d scrimp
-a bit to see a kid like that make good and not go
-to waste.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, say; so’d I, Bat. I’m fond of that boy,
-too. You’ve no idea how plucky he is. Why, when
-I ran across him at the boarding-house, Bat, he’d
-been teaching himself to pitch with one of these
-ten-cent books! And he was doing it, too! Look
-here, let’s you and me sort of keep an eye on him,
-Bat. I haven’t a pile of money, either, but I’d
-spend a little to help Tom through college, if that
-was what you were thinking of.”</p>
-
-<p>Coach Talbot nodded. “Something of the sort.
-Of course, if he showed up strong in a couple of
-years, he could get into a college and not have to
-pay anything. Take my own college, for instance.
-There’s a lot of old grads who are always on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>
-lookout for promising athletes. Any fellow who
-looks real good to them can get through four years
-without its costing him a cent. It’s done right
-along. But, somehow, I don’t like it. It may do
-for some fellows, Bat, but it’s—it’s——”</p>
-
-<p>“I wouldn’t let a boy of mine do it—if I
-had one,” declared Mr. George with emphasis.
-“Maybe in a couple of years, Bat, you and I will
-be flusher. Then Tom’s got a pretty good position
-with Cummings and Wright. Cummings is
-real fond of him; you can see that. In two years
-he might be able to save quite a little himself.
-Then, maybe, you and I, we could——”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Talbot nodded again. Then he laughed
-softly. “We’re a funny pair to be adopting a
-boy, Ben!”</p>
-
-<p>“I wasn’t meaning to exactly adopt him——”</p>
-
-<p>“I understand. We’ll think it over. Anyhow,
-at least we can keep an eye on the chap and see
-that he doesn’t—— Hello! here’s trouble!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom had fanned the first batsman, but the second,
-after waiting craftily, had drawn a pass. The
-Petersburg coachers shouted joyfully:</p>
-
-<p>“Here’s where we break it up, fellows! Here
-we go! Make it be good, Gus, make it be good!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>But Tom steadied down again and the best the
-next batter could do was to hit to shortstop and
-the first runner was out at second, the double
-failing by a scant foot. The next man up caught
-an out-shoot on the end of his bat and whaled it
-into deep centre, placing the runner on third and
-wisely staying at first himself. By this time the
-Petersburg supporters were rooting lustily and
-the coachers were shouting their lungs out at first
-and third. The latter realised that if they could
-unsteady the rival pitcher for a moment now they
-could leap into the lead. The man on first stole
-on the first ball, a pitchout, and Sam Craig slammed
-the ball back to Tom. The runner on third, however,
-was too canny to try for the plate, although
-he had taken a good lead.</p>
-
-<p>With one ball to his credit, for the batsman had
-wisely refrained from hitting at the pitchout,
-knowing that Sam Craig would not be likely to
-throw down to second with a man on third, he
-allowed a strike to go by, an in-shoot that broke
-beautifully and slipped over the inside of the
-plate. Then came another ball, a drop. And then,
-while Tom was poised on one foot, his hands overhead,
-two things happened simultaneously. Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span>
-Talbot leaped from the bench with an involuntary
-exclamation of warning and the runner on third,
-who had been taking a good twelve-foot lead,
-dashed for the plate!</p>
-
-<p>Sam’s shout was not necessary, nor the cries
-of the fielders, for Tom had already seen what was
-up. Hurriedly he stepped forward and sped the
-ball to the catcher, the batsman struck at it and
-missed, and the runner slid feet forward for the
-plate. Down swept Sam’s arm, but the runner
-was safe, one foot hooked into the plate and his
-body well out of reach. And on third the man
-from second danced and shouted in a cloud of
-dust!</p>
-
-<p>Petersburg yelled and hooted. Tom, who had
-followed the delivery to the plate on the run,
-looked ruefully at Sam. Sam, frowning, walked
-across and placed the ball in his hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Watch out for that, Tom,” he whispered.
-“They’ll try it again if they need a run badly.
-All right, let’s get this one.”</p>
-
-<p>And Tom got him, sending two slow balls across
-shoulder-high, at each of which the batsman struck
-and each of which he missed.</p>
-
-<p>“Now then, fellows, let’s get after them!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span>
-called Frank Warner as Amesville went to bat.
-But Calvert still was master, and, although Meyers
-hit safely and was advanced to second by the
-captain’s neat sacrifice bunt, Tommy Hughes and
-Sidney were easy outs, the former hitting straight
-into third baseman’s glove and the latter retiring
-on strikes.</p>
-
-<p>Tom went through the fifth without misadventure,
-disposing of the Petersburg tail-enders
-easily. But after Amesville had been to bat again
-the score still stood 1 to 0 in Petersburg’s favour.
-Calvert had no strike-outs that inning, but he
-made two assists, knocking down two liners and
-fielding them to first in time to put out Smith
-and Kenny. Sam Craig brought the Amesville
-rooters to their feet when he smashed the ball far
-into left field for what might easily have been
-good for two bases, but which resulted only in a
-put-out for the fielder who, after a pretty sprint,
-made a brilliant one-hand catch of the long fly.</p>
-
-<p>“All up for the lucky seventh!” was the slogan
-of the Petersburg supporters as the teams
-changed places. And a “lucky seventh” it
-proved to be, but not for Petersburg. Tom added
-two strike-outs to his credit and, although the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span>
-opposing catcher got a two-bagger off him, the
-side went out without a run.</p>
-
-<p>In the last half Amesville found her chance.
-Calvert let down for an instant, passed Kenny,
-and then made the mistake of giving Sam Craig
-a low ball outside. Sam, who swung a long bat
-and loved low ones, lighted on it for two bases
-and sent Joe Kenny to third. Then the Petersburg
-pitcher recovered, and Tom went out on
-strikes. Buster hit a slow one to shortstop, who,
-after making certain that the runner on third
-was not trying to score, threw hurriedly to first.
-The ball struck in front of the baseman and bounded
-away from him, and amidst wild acclaim Amesville
-scored her first run. Meyers went out, third
-to first, but Frank Warner again proved his dependability
-as a batsman by lining out a red-hot
-one straight through the pitcher’s box, bringing
-in Sam Craig and Buster. Such shouting as followed
-then! Mr. Cummings climbed up on the
-bench and waved his palm-leaf fan in one hand
-and his straw hat in the other and shouted himself
-purple in the face, while Mr. Talbot and Mr.
-George, their faces wreathed in smiles, gravely
-shook hands! The pandemonium kept up for minute<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span>
-after minute, while Captain Warner, dancing
-around on first, begged Tommy Hughes to
-“smash it, Tommy, smash it!” But Calvert, a
-little pale and serious, showed his grit then by
-settling down and disposing of Tommy with just
-four pitched balls!</p>
-
-<p>But with a lead of two runs Amesville’s
-chances seemed dazzlingly bright, and so they remained
-all through the eighth, in which inning,
-if the Brown-and-Blue could not add to her score,
-neither could the visitors. And so the ninth inning
-began with the figures 3 to 1 and everything
-pointing to a victory for Amesville.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV</a><br />
-<small>THREE OUT</small></h2>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>Mr. Cummings, who had not failed to inquire
-anxiously between the innings how Tom felt, and
-who had on each occasion received the same answer,
-“Fine, thanks, sir!” found Tom’s reply
-this time less reassuring.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m all right, Mr. Cummings,” Tom said.
-“I’ll be glad when it’s over, though. It’s the
-first time I’ve pitched nine innings to real batters,
-sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Arm getting tired?” asked Mr. Cummings
-solicitously.</p>
-
-<p>Tom shook his head and smiled. “No, sir, it’s
-my head. I never knew before,” he added, “that
-a pitcher did so much pitching with his head!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, just you keep it up, son. You’ve done
-great work so far. Don’t you let ’em get at you
-this time!”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll try not to,” replied Tom quietly, slipping
-out of his coat.</p>
-
-<p>But the pace had been hard, and Tom was feeling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>
-it now. He put himself in a hole with the first
-batsman when what should have been a straight
-one went wild, an out-shoot missed the plate by
-an inch and a drop was judged too low by the
-umpire. With three balls and no strikes, Tom recalled
-Mr. George’s advice and shook his head
-when Sam asked for an in-shoot. Instead he sent
-a ball straight over, fast but with nothing on, and
-scored a strike. Again Sam wanted a curve,
-and again Tom shook his head. This time,
-with a change of pace, he tried a slow ball
-in the groove, and the batsman struck and
-missed.</p>
-
-<p>“He can’t do it again, Jimmy! Make it be
-good, old scout!” shouted the coach on first.</p>
-
-<p>Another straight ball in the groove, breast-high
-this time. The batter found it, there was a sharp
-<em>crack</em>, and the ball was sailing into the outfield
-over second baseman’s head. By the time Tommy
-Hughes had run in and thrown it to Frank Warner
-the runner was safe on second base, and
-Petersburg was howling her triumph. For a minute
-it seemed that Tom was going to put himself
-in the hole again, for his first two deliveries were
-balls. But a “knuckler” fooled the second batsman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span>
-and a drop that looked awfully good until
-it was almost at the plate evened the score. Then
-a low one straight across the rubber, which the
-batsman swung at terrifically and missed by
-inches, made the first out. The next man landed on
-the first ball and drove it between shortstop and
-third, but Joe Kenny had sneaked in and his throw
-to the plate, while it let the batsman get to
-second, held the first runner at third, and brought
-a salvo of applause from the home-team’s
-supporters.</p>
-
-<p>Tom was bothered now by the memory of that
-steal to the plate and was afraid to wind up lest
-the runner on third duplicate the performance of
-his team-mate. The result was that the batsman,
-after fouling several times and having two strikes
-called on him, got his base on balls. There was
-but one out now and the bases were filled, and
-Petersburg was cheering and shouting continuously
-and beating time lustily with feet and hands.
-Back of first and third the coachers kept up an
-unceasing cross-fire. On the bench Mr. George
-leaned forward anxiously.</p>
-
-<p>“If he gives that fellow one on the outside, it’s
-all over,” he muttered. Mr. Talbot nodded.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“If we get out of this mess with less than two
-runs coming across, we’ll be lucky,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>Sam Craig walked down and conferred a minute
-with Tom, and the visiting partisans hooted
-loudly. The infield moved in to cut off runs at
-the plate. It was Petersburg’s chance to win the
-game.</p>
-
-<p>Tom knew that he must at least keep the next
-two men from hitting out of the infield. Neither
-of them were dangerous batters, although that
-counted for little since at such times it frequently
-happens that the poorest hitter on a team comes
-to the mark with a rescuing wallop. The first
-batsman was plainly anxious to hit, and Sam took
-his cue from that. The first ball was a drop that
-failed to please the umpire. Sam was more than
-ordinarily deliberate in returning the ball to Tom,
-and Tom was as slow as cold molasses. He looked
-all over the field before he even faced the batsman
-again. Then he studied that youth thoughtfully
-for several seconds before he began to wrap
-his fingers about the ball. The batter showed his
-impatience. He stepped from one foot to the
-other, leaned across the plate, flourished his bat
-with short strokes. Sam gave the signal, Tom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span>
-nodded, threw up his hands, and shot the ball like
-a streak of greased lightning across the inner corner
-of the platter.</p>
-
-<p>“Strike!” announced the umpire. The batsman
-turned angrily.</p>
-
-<p>“What!” he cried. Sam tossed back the ball.
-On third the runner was dancing and shuffling,
-running along the base-line with Tom’s wind-up,
-and scooting back to the bag as the ball was
-delivered.</p>
-
-<p>Again the signal and again the ball sped forward.
-But this time it was a slow one that floated
-lazily to the plate and then erratically settled down
-and under the swinging bat.</p>
-
-<p>“Strike two!” said the umpire.</p>
-
-<p>The batsman could not dispute that. He only
-growled and glared ferociously at Tom. The latter
-could afford to waste one and so he answered
-Sam’s signal with an in-shoot that was refused
-and went as a ball. It was two and two now. The
-stands were almost silent as Tom wound up for
-his next delivery. Very deliberately he went at
-it and when, finally, his hand shot forward it
-hardly seemed that there could be any “steam”
-on the ball. And yet I doubt if few persons saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span>
-it after it left Tom’s hand. Certainly the batsman
-didn’t. One could discern his brief instant
-of indecision before he swung his bat around with
-every ounce of strength behind it. He spun on
-his heel, staggered, and recovered as the umpire
-cried:</p>
-
-<p>“<em>Striker’s out!</em>”</p>
-
-<p>Amesville burst into joyful acclaim and on the
-bench Mr. George, with a pleased smile and a satisfied
-sigh, leaned back again.</p>
-
-<p>“Two gone!” cried Frank Warner cheerfully.
-“Last man, fellows!”</p>
-
-<p>The next batsman, who was Petersburg’s left
-fielder, showed none of the nervous impatience
-of the previous player. He stood square to the
-plate, crowded a little, and looked at Tom steadily
-as he poised his bat. Sam Craig, as he squatted
-to give his signal, glanced down the base-line
-toward where the runner on third was pawing
-the earth a few feet from the bag, ready on the instant
-to race for the plate. Tom’s glance followed
-Sam’s for an instant as he wrapped his fingers
-about the ball. That runner on third was disquieting.
-Even, though, Tom comforted himself, if he
-did steal home the score would still be 3 to 2. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span>
-would be best to give all his attention to the batsman
-and not allow that dancing, shouting figure
-over there to take his mind from the real task,
-which was to strike out the man at the plate.</p>
-
-<p>A ball was called and then a strike, Tom risking
-a “knuckler” with good results. Then there
-was a brief instant of panic when the next delivery
-went wild and bounded into the earth at the
-right of the plate. But Sam dropped in front
-of it and saved a run then and there. There was
-a warning note in his voice as he sped the ball
-back.</p>
-
-<p>“Take your time, Tom! Now, right over with
-it!”</p>
-
-<p>Tom frowned as the ball slapped back into his
-glove. He had allowed that fellow on third to
-take his mind from the ball at the moment of
-delivery. He must stop that or something would
-happen. Very resolutely then he strove to close
-his ears to the “Hi! hi! hi!” of the coacher’s
-voice and his eyes to the figure that leaped back
-and forth along the base-line there. And he succeeded,
-for his next ball broke sharply out and
-down and the bat passed over it with a vicious
-swish and the umpire announced “Strike two!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>It was two and two now. Sam did not intend
-that Tom should waste any, for he signalled for
-a low one outside. And Tom pulled at his visor,
-hitched up his trousers, glanced idly about the
-bases, and fingered the ball. Then back went his
-arms behind his head, up came his foot, and——</p>
-
-<p>“<em>There he goes!</em>” shrieked a dozen voices. A
-babel of warning shouts burst on the air. Half-way
-between third and home the runner, head
-down and legs twinkling, was eating up the space.
-At the plate Sam Craig with outstretched hands
-begged for the ball!</p>
-
-<p>Tom was in the middle of his wind-up when the
-warning reached him and it seemed to him afterward
-that in one brief atom of time he did more
-thinking than could ordinarily be crowded into
-the space of a full minute. His startled glance
-showed him that if he was to head off the runner
-he must get the ball to the catcher like a streak.
-But, he reasoned, if he pitched hurriedly he might
-pitch wildly, and a passed ball meant not only
-that run but another one besides, for the man at
-second was already streaking to third. Even if
-a run crossed the plate the score would still be
-3 to 2 in Amesville’s favour. All this passed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span>
-through Tom’s mind in a twinkling, in such a
-period of time, perhaps, as allowed the flying runner
-to twice set foot to ground. And not for
-even so brief a time had Tom paused in his delivery.
-What indecision there was was of his
-mind only, for his muscles went through their
-routine smoothly, his body lunged forward, his
-arm shot out, and away shot the ball.</p>
-
-<p>But Sam never got that throw, and the runner
-from third, with a frantic slide, scored undisputed.
-For Tom, instead of pitching to the plate, had
-stepped out of the box and hurled the ball to Bert
-Meyers at third. It went hard and straight, and
-Bert, although he was not expecting it, was ready
-for it when it came to him breast-high. The ball
-slammed into his glove, he stepped one stride
-along the path, and the runner from second, seeing
-his danger too late to stop and double back, dived
-for the bag. <a href="#image01">But down came Bert’s arm and it
-was all over!</a></p>
-
-<p>On to the diamond flooded the triumphant partisans
-of the Brown-and-Blue. Cheers filled the
-air. Tom, struggling in vain, was heaved to the
-shoulders of two joy-maddened youths and held
-there by others. Surprised and breathless, clutching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span>
-for support, he looked down over the heads
-of the laughing, shouting crowd that surged across
-the field. The other players had been captured,
-or most of them at least, for Tom saw them here
-and there above the crowd. Frank Warner, grinning,
-came swaying by on the shoulders of a pushing
-trio.</p>
-
-<p>“Bully work, Pollock!” he shouted.</p>
-
-<p>Then Tom’s bearers fell in behind and in a moment
-there was a procession of captured players
-swaying here and there around the diamond. Tom
-caught sight of Mr. Cummings, red-faced, shouting
-unintelligibly; of Mr. George, a wide smile
-on his face; and of May Warner, standing straight
-and exultant at the front of the stand and waving
-a brown-and-blue banner. As Tom passed she
-caught his eye and waved more wildly than ever.
-And Tom found himself actually smiling at her!</p>
-
-<p>And then, a little farther on toward the gate,
-his bearers were crowded close to the edge of the
-stand and his gaze, passing a trifle shamefacedly
-over the faces that lined it, fell on the laughing
-countenance of Mrs. Morris. She clapped her
-hands as she saw him, and then:</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Tom! Tom!” she called across. “Do be
-careful of your hair!”</p>
-
-<p>And Tom, laughing and blushing a little, put up
-an unsteady hand and discovered himself bare-headed.
-He had lost his cap! Not that it mattered,
-however. Nothing did matter. Amesville
-had won!</p>
-
-
-<p class="p4 noic">THE END</p>
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<div class="tnote">
-<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes:</p>
-
-<p class="smfont">Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to
- follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the
- illustration may not match the page number in the Illustrations.</p>
-
-<p class="smfont">Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.</p>
-
-<p class="smfont">Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.</p>
-
-<p class="smfont">Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p>
-
-<p class="smfont">The Author’s long dash style has been retained.</p>
-
-<p class="smfont">Page 294: the phrase "the sporting goods department were handed over"
- was duplicated on the third and fifth lines of the first paragraph. Unfortunately,
- the first instance <i>replaced</i> a missing line of text. The paragraph was retained
- as printed.</p>
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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