CHAPTER V
TELLS HOW DAN PLAYED A TRUMP CARD, HOW BOB GAINED HONOR, AND HOW THE“BIG FOUR” CAME INTO EXISTENCE
6.55. First reveille: morning bath. 7.00. Last reveille: colors. 7.25. First mess-call. 7.30. Last mess-call: breakfast. 8 to 9. Duties. 11.00. Assembly: “soak.” 12.30. Mess-call: dinner. 1.30 to 2. Siesta. 2 to 5.25. Recreation. 5.25. First mess-call: colors. 5.30. Last mess-call: supper. 7.30. Assembly: camp-fire. 8.30. Taps: Juniors’ lights out. 9. Seniors’ lights out.
That was the daily schedule. On Sunday it differed in the rising-timeand time for dinner, the first being half an hour and the latteran hour later. But there was nothing very hard-and-fast about theschedule, for frequently an afternoon’s outing on the lake prolongeditself past the hour for supper, and quite as frequently the talesabout the camp-fire became so absorbing that taps didn’t sound untillong after the accustomed time. Largely for this reason the schedulenever proved irksome. Life moved very pleasantly and smoothly atChicora. Ordinary misdemeanors were passed over by the councilors,to be dealt with by the fellows, and so to a great extent the boysgoverned themselves. To be ducked by his companions was the mostdegrading punishment a boy could receive, and only twice during thesummer was it meted out. The Chief and the councilors mingled withthe fellows on all occasions, and were tireless in the search for newmethods of enjoyment. Mr. Clinton played the headiest kind of a game atsecond base in the scrub games, and knocked out three-baggers and homeruns in a manner beautiful to see. Mr. Verder, too, was a good player,while Dr. Smith, laying aside his eye-glasses, would occasionallyconsent to go into the field and excitedly muff everything that came inhis direction. Mr. Thorpe was the camp champion at ring toss, and Mr.Ellery was never defeated at shovelboard.
The afternoons were given over to baseball, or tennis, or boating, ifthe weather permitted, or, if it rained, to fishing for bass, pickerel,perch, and chub in the lake, or to the playing of games or reading inthe recreation-hall or dormitories. But always, rain or fine, there wasa bath at five o’clock, which few missed.
By the end of his first week at Chicora Nelson was thoroughly at home,and any doubts he may have entertained as to his liking the place andthe fellows had vanished. It was a healthy life. He was out-of-doorsall day long, and even at night he could scarcely consider himselfhoused. He went bareheaded, barelegged, and barearmed, and rapidlyacquired a coat of tan of which he was very proud. He went to everymeal famished, and jumped into bed at night in a condition of physicalweariness that brought instant slumber. And he made friends on allsides. The closest of these were Bob Hethington and Tom Ferris. Butthere was one other who, if as yet scarcely a bosom friend, hadcaptured Nelson’s respect and liking; and that one was Dan Speede.
After the incident of the placard in Maple Hall Dan had not offered tomolest Nelson in any way during the two days following; neither had heappeared to take any notice of him. But on the evening of the secondday Nelson was coming back from the dormitory after supper when he metDan.
“You’re the fellow I was looking for,” Dan announced in quite the mostcordial manner in the world. “Want to go down to the Inn with me in thedory? I’m going to take a note for Clint.”
Nelson hesitated.
“I don’t believe I can, Speede. I promised Bob Hethington to help himmend his camera.”
“Oh, let that go. I’ll ask him to come along.”
“Well,” said Nelson.
Bob consented, and the three tumbled into the dory and set out. Thedistance to the Chicora Inn landing was short, if you kept along theshore; but Dan suggested prolonging the trip by going around BassIsland, with the result that they navigated most of the upper end ofthe lake before they reached their destination. Dan was evidently onhis best behavior, for the trip was completed without misadventure, andthey got back to camp just as assembly sounded.
After that Nelson and Dan saw a good deal of each other, and the morethey were together the more Nelson liked the big, handsome, red-headedfellow with the clear blue eyes, and began to understand him better.There wasn’t a grain of meanness in his make-up. The jokes he wasforever playing were usually harmless enough, and served as outlets foran oversupply of animal spirits. Nelson thought he had never seen afellow more full of life, more eager for adventure and fun, than Dan.He would go almost any length to secure a laugh, even if it was againsthimself, and toil for days at a time to bring about an event promisingexcitement. He seemed to be absolutely without fear, and no one eversaw him really angry.
Nelson’s liking for Dan was not, however, altogether shared by Bob, whodubbed Dan’s tricks and jokes “kiddish,” and usually treated him with asort of contemptuous indifference. As a rule he avoided Dan’s society,and finally Nelson was torn between his allegiance to Bob and hisliking for Dan. Affairs stood thus when, about two weeks after Nelson’sarrival, the election of captain of the baseball team came off, and Danplayed a card which, if it did not at once gain Bob’s friendship, atleast commanded his gratitude.
At camp-fire Mr. Clinton announced that he had received a note fromCamp Wickasaw asking when Chicora would be ready to arrange a series ofball games with them.
“Last year,” said the Chief, “as those of you know who were here then,Wickasaw won all three games from us. There’s no disgrace in beingbeaten, but it’s lots more fun to beat. So this year let’s see if wecan’t do better. They have fewer fellows than we have, and last yearwe allowed them to play their councilors. I guess it was that that beatus. But it was only fair, and unless you fellows object they will makeuse of the same privilege this year. How about it?” and Mr. Clintonlooked about the fire-lit group questioningly.
“Let them use them, sir,” exclaimed one of the boys. “We can beat themanyhow.”
“That’s so, sir; and there’ll be more glory in it,” said another.
And a chorus of assent arose.
“All right,” said Mr. Clinton. “Now we ought to get things fixed up sothat we can arrange dates with Wickasaw and the other nines. There willbe the Mount Pleasant team to deal with, and I suppose there will be anine at the Inn as usual. And I guess we can arrange some games withthe Camp Trescott fellows. I propose to supply bats and balls and suchthings, as I did last year. We’ll need one new base-bag, too.”
“I think that one can be fixed up all right, sir, with some sawdust,and a piece of canvas to patch it with,” said Bob.
“Well, we’ll have a look at it. If it can’t, we’ll send for a new one.We’ll have to have some balls and bats, anyhow. We’ve got two masks anda protector left from last summer. Is there anything else?”
“We ought to have some mitts,” said Carter.
“Seems to me the fellows ought to buy those themselves,” Dan announced.
“Well, I’ll get some,” said the Chief. “If any one wants to have hisown, he can. Now, how about choosing a captain? Shall we do that hereto-night, or had you rather wait?”
“To-night!” “Now!” were the cries.
“Very well; suppose you nominate your candidates, and we’ll have arising vote.”
Much laughter and whispering ensued. Then Dan was on his feet.
“Mr. Clinton,” he began.
“Mr. Chairman,” some one corrected.
“And gentlemen of the convention,” added Mr. Verder.
“Who’s making this speech?” asked Dan good-naturedly. “Mr. Clinton, Inominate Bob Hethington.” Applause followed. “He’s as good a player asany of us; he was here last year, and knows the ropes, and he--he’s agood fellow for the place.”
“I second the nomination!” cried Nelson.
Three other nominations followed, among the candidates being Joe Carterand Dan himself. The latter promptly withdrew in favor of Bob, andwhen the voting was over, Bob, in spite of half-hearted protestations,was declared elected. Thereupon Carter moved that the election be madeunanimous, and it was. “Babe” Fowler was elected official scorer, anhonor which quite overwhelmed him for the mom
ent, and Mr. Verder wasappointed manager. He and Bob were to get together at once and arrangedates, issue challenges, and start things moving generally. A callfor candidates was issued on the spot, that constituting Bob’s speechof acceptance, and it was decided that practise should be held everyweek-day afternoon, when there were no games, at four o’clock.
“It seems to me,” said Mr. Verder, “that the best way to get goodpractise is to have some one to play against. Couldn’t we form a scrubteam to play against the camp nine? We’ve got plenty of fellows here.”
“That’s a good plan,” said the Chief. “And you and I’ll join it.”
“And the Doctor,” some one suggested. Whereupon there was a laugh, andthe Doctor begged to be excused.
“I tell you what I will do, though,” he said; “I’ll umpire.”
“All right!” they called.
“Kill the umpire!” shouted Dan.
“And I’ll get even with you, Mr. Clinton,” threatened the Doctor.“You’ll never see first when I’m umpiring!”
“He never does see it,” grumbled Tom. “He runs too fast!”
“Well, that’s all settled, then,” said Mr. Clinton when the laughterhad subsided. “Now, let’s all get to work and turn out a good team, onethat’ll knock the spots off of Wickasaw! And when we can’t find any oneelse to play, we’ll have some, good games between the first team andthe scrub, and I’ll put up some prizes--boxes of candy, or somethinglike that. How’ll that do?”
“Bully, sir!”
“That’s swell!”
“I’m going to play on the scrub!”
And the next afternoon, while the enthusiasm still held, the firstpractise was held, with almost every boy in camp as a candidate.Nelson turned out with the rest, and even Tom, under the excitement ofthe moment and with visions of candy before him, essayed to try forthe outfield. Dan and Nelson were practically certain of making thefirst, if only by reason of former experience, for each had played ontheir class teams at school. The most glaring deficiency was a goodpitcher, and the problem of finding some fellow to work with Bob, whowas catcher, bothered the latter for some time. In the end a ratherlikely candidate showed up in the person of Wells, a chunky, snub-nosedsenior, who, in spite of the fact that he was rather unpopular,decidedly stubborn, and a bit lazy, gave promise of turning into afairly good pitcher. Dan was put on first, and soon proved his right tothe place. Nelson went into the field, and finally found his positionat center. He was a good batsman and a heady base-runner. Tom droppedout of the contest after a day or two, having been thrice struck bythe pitcher while unsuccessfully endeavoring to hit the ball, andretired to watch the practise from the spectators’ gallery and nursehis bruises. A series of three games with the rival camp of Wickasawwere arranged for, and five other dates with hotel and camp nines weremade. This meant an average of two games a week for the remainder ofthe season, and Bob got down to hard work. As it proved, it was luckythat the enthusiasm came when it did, and supplied him with sufficientmaterial from which to turn out a team, for shortly afterward aspell of hot weather made its appearance, and while it lasted it wasdifficult to get any save the members of the camp nine to make the tripto the baseball field. But Bob didn’t let the heat bother him much,and practise was as rigorous as ever. When not enough fellows cameout to make up the scrub, Bob held batting and base-running practiseinstead, until Dan declared that he had lost ten pounds in a week.
He and Bob were rapidly becoming friendly, or rather Bob was, for Danhad liked Bob all along. Dan took hold of baseball affairs in a waythat won the captain’s heart, playing his own position for all therewas in it, and helping cheerfully with the coaching no matter how hotthe sun beat down on the field. As a result of this change of sentimenton Bob’s part a four-cornered friendship was formed which lasted for agood many years. Nelson, Dan, Bob, and Tom were together pretty muchall the time, and finally the camp took notice and dubbed them the“Big Four.” Nelson meanwhile had been taken into the society and hadafforded amusement for the entire camp when he had been put throughhis initiation, which, for want of a building affording privacy, wasconducted in the clearing between Poplar and Spruce Halls.