CHAPTER V
RANDALL AGAINST BOXER
Tom and Phil stood staring at each other as Sid walked on ahead.
"Well, wouldn't that get your goat?" asked Tom.
"It sure would," admitted Phil. "He must have made up with her, afterall."
How it came about Sid, of course, would never tell. It was too new andtoo delightful an experience for him--to actually be paying attentionsto some girl--to make it possible to discuss the matter with his chums.Sufficient to say that in the course of two weeks more there was anotherphotograph in the room of the inseparables.
Baseball matters began to occupy more and more attention at Randall. Theteam was being whipped into shape, and between Tom, Ed Kerr and thecoach the lads were beginning to get rid of the uncertainty engenderedby a winter of comparative idleness.
"Have you arranged any games yet?" asked Tom of Ed one afternoon,following some sharp practice on the diamond.
"We play Boxer Hall next week," answered the manager. "And I do hope wewin. It means so much at the beginning of the season. How is the team,do you think?"
"Do you mean ours or theirs?"
"Ours, of course."
"Fine, I should say," replied Tom.
"You know who'll pitch against you when we play Boxer, I dare say,"remarked Mr. Leighton, who had joined Tom and Ed.
"No. Who?"
"Your old enemy, Langridge. He's displaced Dave Ogden, who twirled forthem last season. But you're not frightened, are you?"
"Not a bit of it! If there's anything that will make our fellows playfierce ball it's to know that Langridge--the fellow who almost threw ourfootball team--is going to play against them. I couldn't ask a bettertonic. Will they play on our grounds?"
"No, we've got to go there. But don't let that worry you."
There was sharp practice for the next few days, and Tom and his chumswere put through "a course of sprouts" to quote Holly Cross. They didsome ragged work, under the eagle eye of the coach, and things began tolook bad, but it was only the last remnant of staleness disappearing,for the day before the game there was exhibited a noticeable stiffness,and a confidence that augured well for Randall.
"The batting still leaves something to be desired," remarked Mr.Leighton, as practice was over for the day. "I have great hopes of SidHenderson, though."
"Yes, if----" began Tom.
"If what?" asked the coach quickly.
"If he doesn't go back on himself," finished the pitcher, but that wasnot what he had intended to say. He was thinking of Sid's queer actionsof late--wondering what they portended, and what was the meaning of hischum's odd absences, for, only the night previous, Sid had gone out,following the receipt of a note, and had come in late, smelling vilelyof tobacco. Fortunately he had escaped detection by the proctor, but heoffered no explanation, and his manner was disturbed, and not like hisusual one.
As for Sid, well might his chums be puzzled about him. He seemed totallyto have changed, not only in manner but in his attitude toward Tom andPhil. There was a new look on his face. Several times, of late, sincehis acquaintance with Miss Harrison, and the reconciliation followinghis little "_de trop faux pas_," as Tom termed it, Sid had been caughtday dreaming. Phil or Tom would look up from their studying to see Sid,with a book falling idly from his hands, gazing vacantly into a cornerof the room, or looking abstractedly at his side of the wall space, asthough calculating just where would be the best spot for a certaingirl's picture.
It was a most enthralling occupation for Sid--this day dreaming. It wasa new experience--a deliciously tender and sweet one--for no young mancan be any the worse for thinking and dreaming of a fine-characteredgirl, albeit one who is amazingly pretty; in fact he is the better forit. In Sid's case his infatuation had come so suddenly that it wasoverwhelming. In the past he had either been shy with girls, or hadnot cared enough for them to be more than decently polite. But noweverything was different. Though he had seen her but a few times, hecould call to mind instantly the very way in which she turned her headwhen she addressed him. He could see the slight lifting of the eyebrowsas she asked a question, the sparkle that came into the blue eyes, thatheld a hint of mischief. He could hear her rippling laugh, and he knewin what a tantalizing way a certain ringlet escaped from the coils ofher hair, and fell upon her neck.
Often in class the lecturer would suddenly call his name, and Sid wouldstart, for he had sent his thoughts afar, and it required a sort ofwireless message to bring them back.
The day of the Boxer game could not have been better. There had been aslight shower in the night, but only sufficient to lay the dust, and itwas just cool enough to be delightful. The Randall players and theirsupporters, including a crowd of enthusiastic "rooters," a numberof substitutes and a mascot, in the shape of a puppy, fantasticallyattired, made the trip to Boxer Hall in special trolleys, hired stagecoaches and some automobiles. Bert Bascome owned an automobile, and hemade much of himself in consequence.
There was a big crowd in the grand stands when the Randall playersarrived, and they were received with cheers, for the sporting spiritbetween the two colleges was a generous one.
"My, what a lot of girls!" remarked Tom to Sid and Phil, as the threechums looked over toward the seats, which were a riot of color.
"Yes, all the Fairview students are here to-day," spoke Phil. "Ruth saidshe and Miss Tyler were coming."
"I wonder if----" began Sid, and then he stopped, blushing like a girl.
"Yes, Miss Harrison is coming with them," replied Phil, with a laugh."We'll look 'em up after the game--if we win."
"Why not, if we lose?" asked Sid quickly.
"I haven't the nerve, if we let Boxer Hall take the first game of theseason from us," was the reply.
Fast and snappy practice began, and it was somewhat of a revelation tothe Randall players to note the quick work on the part of their rivals.In getting around the bases, batting out flies, getting their fingers onhigh balls and low grounders, Boxer Hall seemed to have improved verymuch over last year.
"We've got our work cut out for us," remarked Phil in a low voice to histwo chums. "Say, Langridge has some speed, too. Look at that!"
The new pitcher of Boxer Hall was throwing to Stoddard, the catcher, andthe balls landed in the pocket of the big mitt with a vicious thud.
"Don't worry. Sid, here, will knock out a couple of home runs," saidTom. "Won't you, Sid?"
"I only hope I don't fan the air. How are his curves?"
"Pretty good, for the first few innings," answered Tom. "After that youcan find 'em easy enough. He wears down--at least he did last year."
The practice came to an end. The preliminaries were arranged, and, withthe privilege of the home team coming last to the bat, Randall went inthe initial inning. The two teams were made up as follows:
RANDALL COLLEGE
Sid Henderson, _second base_. William Housenlager, _catcher_. Phil Clinton, _first base_. Tom Parsons, _pitcher_. Dan Woodhouse, _third base_. Jerry Jackson, _right field_. Bob Molloy, _shortstop_. Joe Jackson, _left field_. Holman Cross, _center field_.
BOXER HALL
Lynn Ralling, _second base_. Hugh McGherity, _right field_. Roy Conklin, _left field_. Arthur Flood, _center field_. George Stoddard, _catcher_. Pinkerton Davenport, _first base_. Fred Langridge, _pitcher_. Bert Hutchin, _third base_. Sam Burton, _shortstop_.
"Now, Sid, show 'em what you can do," advised Mr. Leighton, as Sidselected a bat, and walked up to the plate. He faced Langridge, andnoted the grim and almost angry look in the eyes of the former pitcheron the Randall 'varsity.
"Make him give you a nice one," called Bean Perkins, who was ready toshout for victory.
A ball came whizzing toward Sid, and so sure was he that he was going tobe hit that he dodged back, but he was surprised when it neatly curvedout, went over the plate, and the umpire called:
"Strike One!"
There was a howl of protest on the part of the Randa
ll sympathizers, butit died away when Mr. Leighton held up a warning hand.
Sid struck viciously at the next ball, and felt a thrill of joy as hefelt the impact, but, as he rushed away toward first he heard theumpire's call of "Foul; strike!" and he came back.
"Wait for a good one," counseled Phil, in a low voice. "Make him giveyou a pretty one."
Langridge sent in another swift curve and Sid struck at it. Another foulresulted, and he began to wonder what he was up against. The nextattempt was a ball, for Langridge threw away out, but Sid saw coming amoment later, what he thought would make at least a pretty one-bagger.He swung viciously at it, but missed it clean, and walked to the benchsomewhat chagrined.
Dutch Housenlager, with a smile of confidence, walked up next. He wascool, and Langridge, having struck out Sid, seemed to lose some of hisanger. He delivered a good ball--an in-shoot--and Dutch caught it on theend of his bat. It seemed to promise well, but Roy Conklin, out on leftfield was right under it, and Dutch ingloriously came back from first.
"Now, Phil, line one out!" pleaded Tom, as his chum selected his bat,and Phil struck at the first ball, sending a hot liner right past theshortstop.
Phil got to first, and stole second when Tom came up, making it only bya close margin.
"A home run, Tom," begged the coach, and Tom nodded with a grim smile onhis face. But alas for hopes! He knocked a fly, which the right fieldergot without much difficulty, and the first half of the initial inningwas over with a goose-egg in the space devoted to Randall.
"Never mind, we're finding him," consoled Tom, as he walked to his box.
Lynn Ralling was up first for Boxer Hall, and Tom resolved to strike himout, if it was at all possible. It was his first pitching in a leaguegame that season, and he was a trifle nervous. Still he held himselfwell in hand, and, though the first two attempts were called "balls" thenext three went down as strikes. Ralling refused to swing on two ofthem, but the last one seemed to him as just right, but Tom had thesatisfaction of striking him out. McGherity, the next man up, was anotoriously heavy hitter, and Tom purposely gave him a pass to first. Hestruck out Roy Conklin, but something went wrong with the next man,Arthur Flood, who knocked a two-bagger. Then George Stoddard got tofirst on a swift grounder, that, somehow rolled through the legs ofBricktop, much to that hero's disgust. There was some good playing therest of the inning, George being caught napping on second, and it endedwith two runs in favor of Boxer Hall.
"We've got to wake up!" decided Mr. Leighton grimly. "Put a little moreginger into it, boys!"
"What's the matter with our team?" Bean Perkins demanded to know in hisloudest voice.
"It's all right," was the response, from scores of throats.
"Now for the 'Conquer or Die' song," called Bean, and as Dan Woodhousewent up to the bat in the beginning of the second inning the strainsof "_Aut vincere aut mori_," welled out over the diamond. But theinspiring melody that, more than once had been the means of inspiring afaint-hearted team to victory, seemed to be of no effect now. Not a mangot further than second, and another goose egg went up to the credit ofRandall. But a similar dose was served to Boxer in the same inning, andwhen Randall opened the third with Holly Cross at the bat, there wasmuch wonder, and not a little disappointment. What would Holly do? Hesoon showed by knocking a two bagger, but, alas for what followed.Though he managed to steal to third, Langridge pitched so well thatthose who followed were struck out, and there was another white circle.
It was duplicated for Boxer Hall, however, and there began to be talk ofa "pitchers' battle."
"We'll find Langridge this inning," prophesied Tom, and it was partlyjustified, for one run came in, which sent the grand stand where theRandallites were gathered wild with delight.
"Now, fellows, give 'em that song--'We're going to wallop you now,'"called Bean, and there arose a riot of "melody." In the fifth inningneither side scored, and then came the turn of Captain Tom's men again.They delighted their supporters by pulling down two runs, and making thescore three to two in their favor. Then, when Boxer Hall came up fortheir inning, they hammered out two runs, which sent Randall stock downto zero again with the score of four to three against them.
The seventh and eighth innings saw big circles chalked up in the framesof both teams, though Tom and his men worked hard to bring in at leastanother run. But it was not to be.
"Now, fellows, it's our last chance," remarked the coach, as Holly Crossstepped up in the ninth, his teeth fairly gritting together. "Two runsto win--that is if we hold 'em down when they come up."
"I'll do that part," guaranteed Tom grimly.
From the grand stands there were shouts and yells of encouragement--andotherwise. Bean led his cohorts in, "It's Your Last Chance, Boys--SoakIt!" a Randall classic of the diamond. Well, Holly did "soak" it, withthe result that he knocked the prettiest three-bagger seen in many aday. Then came Sid's turn. Two strikes were called on him, and then camea foul.
"I'm afraid he's going to fan," whispered Tom to the coach.
"Watch him," advised Mr. Leighton.
There was a reassuring "thump" as the next ball reached Sid. Away sailedthe sphere right over the center fielder's head.
"It's a beaut! It's a beaut! Run! Run! Run!" yelled the frenziedstudents. Holly was legging it in from third and my! how Sid wasrunning! Low down, and like the wind! The frantic center fielder wasracing for the ball amid the daisies. On and on came Sid!
"A home run! A home run!" screamed Tom and his players, jumping up anddown and over the bench in their excitement. Around the bases came Sid,following Holly. The second baseman swung around third and started forhome, but the ball was on the way. Would he beat it?
He did, by about a second, rushing in almost exhausted, over the platewhich Holly had just crossed.
"Wow! Wow! Wow!" cried Sid's and Holly's mates. "That wins the game!"and they hugged Sid and his chum. "Two Runs!"
"The game is not won yet," said the coach, more soberly. "We need moreruns."
But they couldn't get them. There was a sudden improvement on the partof Langridge, who had begun to weaken, and he struck out the next twomen, the third getting out on a bingle. But the score was five to fourin favor of Randall, and if Tom could hold them down, and strike outthree men, the game was theirs. Could he do it?
There was a great strain on everyone as the Randall team went out to thefield. From the grand stand came softly the "Conquer or Die" song, andTom felt a sense of moisture in his eyes.
"I'll strike 'em out!" he muttered.
How he did it is college history to this day. Calmly he faced the firstman, and delivered a ball.
"Strike!" howled the umpire, and this time it was Boxer Hall that sentup a groan of protest. But it was silenced, and in two more ballsdelivered over the plate with faultless precision, but with puzzlingcurves, Tom had one down.
"Only two more," called Phil to him encouragingly.
Tom nodded. How he did pitch! The balls sounded like guns when they hitDutch Housenlager's big mitt, but he held them.
"Three strikes--batter out!" yelled the umpire, and the second man threwdown his stick and walked disgustedly to the bench.
George Stoddard was up next. Tom was afraid of him. He delivered apuzzling slow drop, but Stoddard got under it for a foul.
Tom breathed a bit easier. Two more chances. He sent one of his best outshoots, and Stoddard foolishly bit at it. The ball just grazed the bat,and bounded up into the air. Dutch made a desperate effort for it.
"Can't get it!" yelled the crowd, as it went over the back grand stand.
The umpire threw Tom a new ball. He hated to use it, as the other seemedjust right. But the one that had gone over the stand was slow in beingreturned. Dutch signalled for another drop, but Tom shook his head. Hewanted to try a delicate in-curve.
It seemed that the players and spectators were scarcely breathing--itwas the critical point of the game, yet with two down Boxer Hall couldscarcely hope to win. Yet there was a chance. Tom delive
red the ball.Stoddard swung at it with such force that he turned completely around.But the new, white ball was safe in the mitt of Dutch Housenlager.Stoddard had struck out--there were three down for Boxer in the endingof the ninth, and not a run. Randall had won--the score being five tofour.
Then such a chorus of yells as went up! Even Bean Perkins could scarcelybe heard.
"Wow! Wow! Wow!" cried Dutch, seizing Holly Cross around the waist, anddoing a dance with him about the bench. "We did it!"
"Great work, boys!" cried the coach. "I congratulate you!"
"Three cheers for Randall!" proposed Pinkey Davenport for Boxer Hall,and the yells came with spontaneous enthusiasm.
"Three and a tiger for Boxer Hall!" yelled Tom, and his men nearly splittheir throats.
"Come on! Clean up, and then for some fun!" cried Phil. "We'll go huntup the girls, as soon as we look decent again," he suggested to Tom andSid, who nodded joyfully.
Langridge passed Tom.
"It's only one game," growled the defeated pitcher. "We'll do youfellows next time!"
"You'll have the chance," retorted Tom good naturedly.
A little later the victorious pitcher, and his two chums, having donnedtheir street clothes, were strolling across the field toward a knot ofgirls.