Read Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars; or, The Rivals of Riverside Page 10


  CHAPTER X

  A TIGHT CONTEST

  "Strike one!" yelled the young umpire, as the ball landed with aresounding thud in Bart Ferguson's big mitt.

  "That's the stuff!" called several in the crowd.

  "Send back the Reds with a whitewash brush," added another enthusiast.

  "I guess Sam's in form to-day," remarked Tom Davis to Rodney Burke nearwhom he sat. Tom was not playing, for Darrell was holding down theinitial bag.

  "Wait a bit and see what happens along about the seventh inning," saidRodney. "Sam generally falls down then if he's going to."

  "Well, I hope he doesn't, that's all," said Tom, and then he gave allhis attention to watching the game.

  "Ball one," was the next decision of the umpire.

  "Aw what's the matter with you?" cried Sam, starting toward home whereBart stood holding the ball. "That clipped the plate as good as any onewould want. You'd better get a pair of glasses, Kern. You can't seestraight."

  "I can see as well as you!" retorted Frank Kern, the umpire.

  "It wasn't anywhere near over the plate," retorted Jack King, thebatter.

  "Aw, you don't know a good ball when you get one," snapped Sam. "Iguess----"

  "That'll do now!" called Darrell sharply from first. "This isn't a kidgame. Play ball. Don't be always kicking, Sam."

  "Who is always kicking?" demanded the pitcher, and it was evident to allthat he was in unusually bad temper.

  "I hope it isn't on my account," thought Joe who, from his position indeep centre, was waiting for anything that might come his way. He hadbeen told to play far out, for King was known as a heavy hitter.

  Sam received the ball from Bart with a scowl and wound up for the nextdelivery. Sam was a natural pitcher. That is, he had good control, as arule, and he made his shoulder and back do most of the work of thepitching arm, as all professionals do. Still his unpleasant temper oftenmade his efforts go to waste.

  "Strike two!" called the umpire this time, and there was no doubt aboutit for King had swung viciously at the ball. But Sam had sent in apuzzling little drop, and the knowledge that he had fooled a good batterbrought a smile to his otherwise scowling face.

  "Here's where I get you!" he predicted.

  But alas for his hopes! The bat met the ball squarely and Sam had madethe mistake of sending a fast ball to a heavy hitter enabling King toknock out a pretty three bagger. Far back as Joe had stationed himselfhe was not far enough and he had to turn and run after the horsehide.And how he did run! He was thinking desperately what would happen if hemissed it! He made up his mind that he would not, yet it was not withinthe power of any one to get to the spot before the ball fell.

  Joe felt it graze the tips of his fingers as it rushed downward but thatwas all. He heard himself groan involuntarily in anguish as the ball hitthe ground with a thud. He lost no time in idle regrets however, butpicked it up and made a throw to third in time to hold King there, forthe doughty player had a notion of continuing on home.

  "Good try old man!" yelled some spectators on the benches nearest Joe.He felt that his effort was somewhat appreciated but he wondered whatDarrell would think of it. Sam was scowling again, whether at Joe'sperfectly natural miss, or the fact that he was hit for three bases wasimpossible to guess.

  "Try for the next one," called Darrell cheerfully, and Sam did with suchsuccess that Bigney, who was second up for the Red Stockings, onlypounded out a little drizzler that Sam quickly gathered in and threw tofirst. King was still held on third. Smart fanned out, and then cameSteel, who, after knocking a couple of fouls, was fooled on a littlein-shoot which made three out, King dying on third and the side beingretired with no runs.

  "Oh, not so bad," said Sam as he walked in to the bench.

  "I guess we've got their number all right," assented Darrell. He saw Joecoming in from centre and the manager stopped to speak to him.

  "Nobody could have gotten that ball," he said, for he realized that thenew player might blame himself unjustly. "I didn't think King had it inhim, or I'd have told you to play out to the limit. He won't get youthat way again."

  "I guess not!" exclaimed Joe heartily.

  The make up and batting order of the Silver Stars was the same as inthe game with the Resolutes save that Joe was in Jed McGraw's place, andthis brought him second to the bat. Potter was up first and managed toget a single.

  "Now, bring him in," commanded Darrell with a smile at Joe, as thelatter picked out a bat. He was very nervous, as any lad would havebeen, playing his first game with a new team. He did want to make good!

  "I'll try," he said simply.

  Painter, the Red Stocking pitcher, had no phenomenal speed and hiscurves could not be depended on to break at the right places. Still hewas a good "bluffer" and he made many a batter think that he was gettinga very swift ball. Often it would look as though it was going to hit theman at the plate and he would instinctively step back, disconcerting hisown aim.

  Joe let the first ball pass, and was somewhat surprised to have a strikecalled on him. But he did not kick, for, as a matter of fact, thehorsehide had clipped the plate.

  "I'll get the next one," thought Joe grimly. Then Painter worked hisusual trick, of throwing a ball close in, and Joe bent his body like abow.

  "Strike two!" yelled the umpire and Joe felt a flash of anger. But hesaid nothing, and when the next ball came he swung viciously at it. Heheard the heart-stirring ping! and, dropping his bat, he legged it forfirst as Potter darted to second.

  But Joe had not hit the ball nearly as hard as he thought he had, andthe result was that the shortstop gathered it in, and, by a quick throwto first, caught our hero there.

  "Quick, to second!" yelled the coacher, but Potter dropped and slid,being counted safe.

  "One down, only two more!" yelled Murphy, captain and catcher of the"Reds," as they were called for short.

  Joe felt his face burning with shame as he walked back to the bench.

  "Humph! I thought we were going to see some wonders!" murmured SamMorton sarcastically.

  "It's all right, Matson--it was an even chance, and you found the ball,"said Darrell quickly. He knew the danger of a new player becomingdiscouraged.

  "Thanks," said Joe quietly.

  Lantry got a single which sent Potter to third, but the next two menstruck out and with two men left on bases the Silver Stars had to takethe field again with only a goose egg to their credit.

  The game ran along to the ending of the third inning with neither sidegetting a run. Each team made some scattering hits but the fielding wasevenly good, and no one crossed the home plate. Joe made one fine catchin the beginning of the third and received a round of applause that didhis heart good.

  Sam was pitching pretty good ball, occasionally being found for a twobagger, but any short-comings in this line were more than made up in thesupport he received from his mates.

  "It's going to be a tighter game than I thought it was," murmuredDarrell, at the close of the fourth inning, when his side had managed toget in one run to tie the tally which the Reds had secured. "They've gota better team than I gave them credit for."

  "You don't think they're going to beat us, do you?" asked Sam anxiously.

  "I--well--I hope not," was the hesitating answer.

  "Does that mean you don't think I'm doing all I ought to?" demanded thepitcher defiantly.

  "Of course not. I know you wouldn't throw the game. Only I wish we couldstrike more of them out," and the manager looked anxiously over thefield as his players were stationing themselves.

  "Wait and see what I do this inning," invited Sam. "Perhaps you wantthat new fellow to go in the box in my place." His voice was sneeringnow.

  "Who, Joe Matson?" asked Darrell quickly.

  "That's who I mean," replied Sam surlily.

  "Don't be foolish," was the manager's quiet answer. "You know he hasn'thad any experience in the box--or at least enough to play on our team,though I think he'll make a good fielder. Now do your pretti
est Sam. Youcan, you know."

  "All right," assented the pitcher, and once more the game was underway.

  The fifth inning was productive of one run for the Silver Stars and thisafter they had retired their rivals hitless, for Sam did some excellentpitching. There was a howl of delight as the first tally came in, makingthe score two to one in favor of our friends. And there was none out.

  "Now we ought to walk away from them," called Darrell to his players.Joe came up to bat and to his delight he got a single. He was advancedto second when the next player connected with the ball, and thenfollowed some see-sawing on the part of the pitcher and the secondbaseman, in an endeavor to catch Joe napping.

  Once our hero thought he saw a good chance to steal third and he wasabout to take it when something warned him to come back. He did, andonly just in time, for the pitcher threw to second. It was a closeshave.

  Joe slid head foremost and as his fingers touched the bag the secondbaseman leaped up in the air to catch the ball which the pitcher hadwildly thrown high.

  When the baseman came down, making a wild effort to touch Joe, the ironcleat of one shoe caught the little finger of Joe's left hand and cut itcruelly.

  The plucky centre fielder tried to stifle the groan of anguish that roseto his lips, but it was impossible. The baseman was aware of theaccident.

  Dropping the ball he knelt over Joe.

  "I'm mighty sorry, old man!" he exclaimed. "Are you hurt much?"

  "No--no. I--I guess not," murmured Joe, and then all got black beforehis eyes, and there was a curious roaring in his ears.