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diff --git a/old/50761-0.txt b/old/50761-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 69ca046..0000000 --- a/old/50761-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7498 +0,0 @@ -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. 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