CHAPTER XV.
ON THE BALL FIELD.
The sophomores went in to watch the freshmen practice and incidentallyto have sport with them.
Two nines had been selected, one being the regular freshman team and theother picked up to give them practice.
As Merriwell had been given a place on the team as reserve pitcher, hisservices were not needed at first, and so he went in to twirl for thescrub nine.
Walter Gordon went into the box for the regular team, and he expected tofool the irregulars with ease. He was a well-built lad, with a bang, andit was plain to see at a glance that he was stuck on himself. He had atrick of posing in the box, and he delivered the ball with a flourish.
The scrub team did not have many batters, and so it came about that thefirst three men up were disposed of in one-two-three order, not one ofthem making a safe hit or reaching first.
Rattleton had vainly endeavored to get upon the regular team. He hadplayed pretty fast ball on a country nine, but he was somewhat out ofpractice and he had not made a first-class showing, so he had failed inhis ambition.
He went into catch for Merriwell, and they had arranged a code ofsignals beforehand, so that they were all prepared.
There was no affectation about Frank's delivery, but the first man onthe list of the regulars found Merriwell's slow drop was a hard ball tohit. He went after two of them before he saw what he was getting. Thenhe made up his mind that he would get under the next one and knock thepeeling off it.
He got under it all right, for instead of being a drop it was a rise,and the batter struck at least eighteen inches below it.
"Well, say," laughed Gordon, who had been placed second on the list athis own request. "I'll go you something he doesn't work that on me."
He was full of confidence when he walked up to the plate. The watchingsophomores were doing their best to rattle Merriwell, and it seemed thathe must soon get nervous, even though he did not seem to hear any of thejolly that was being flung at him.
The very first ball seemed to be just where Gordon wanted it, and heswung at it with all his strength. It twisted in toward him and passedwithin two inches of his fingers.
Gordon looked mildly surprised, but he was still confident that hewould be able to hit the next one with ease. He found out his mistakelater on when he went after an out drop and failed to come within sixinches of it.
Then it was Gordon who grew nervous. He did not fancy the idea of beingfanned out by his rival, and he felt that he must make connections withthe next one. He resolved to wait for a good one, and Frank fooled himby putting two straight ones right over the center of the plate. Gordonfelt sure that both would be curves, and so he offered at neither ofthem. The umpire, however, who was a particular friend of Gordon, calledthem both balls. Then Gordon went after the next ball, which was araise, but found nothing but empty air.
The third man was easy, and he fanned, also, making three in succession.
Parker punched Browning in the ribs.
"Say," he observed, "I'll go you two to one that Merriwell is on the'Varsity team before the end of next season."
"If he is alive he may be," returned the king, grimly.
Our hero's pitching was a surprise to his friends, for until that day hehad not seemed to let himself out. Even then he did not appear to bedoing his best work, and one who watched him in a friendly way fanciedhe might do still better if forced to make the effort.
Walter Gordon was filled with disgust and dismay.
"He's having great luck," muttered Gordon. "Why, I don't see how Imissed a ball I struck at. Every one was a dead easy thing, and I shouldhave killed any of them."
He squirmed as he heard Burn Putnam--familiarly called Old Put--themanager of the team, compliment Merriwell on his skillful work.
"I fancy I'll be able to use you more than I thought I should at first,Merriwell," said Putnam. "We can tell more about that in the future."
"I've got to strike that fellow out," thought Gordon as he went into thebox.
But he did not. Merriwell came first to bat in the second inning, and hesent a safe single into right field, deliberately placing it, as wasevident to every ball player present.
Gordon turned green with anger, and then he became nervous. To add tohis nervousness, Merriwell obtained a lead from first and stole secondon his delivery, getting it easily.
But that was not the end of Gordon's woes, for Merriwell seemed in areckless mood, and he made for third on the next pitch, getting it on abeautiful slide, although the catcher made an attempt to throw him out.
The catcher came down scowling, and Gordon went to meet him, asking ashe did so:
"What's the matter with you? You ought to have stopped him at second andheld him there."
"I ought to have stopped him!" came derisively from the disgustedbackstop. "I came down to ask you if this was the way you were going topitch in a regular game. Why, that fellow is getting a long start onyour delivery, and he does it every time. You've got to stop that kindof business."
For some moments they talked, and then Gordon sulkily walked back to thebox. He tried to catch Frank playing off third, but simply wasted time.Then he made a snap delivery and hit the batter, who went down to first.
By this time Gordon was rattled, and he sent the next ball over theheart of the plate. The batter nailed it for two bags, and two men camehome.
Gordon walked out of the box and up to the bench where Old Put wassitting.
"I am sick," he declared.
He looked as if he spoke the truth.
"I thought something was the matter with you," said the manager. "You'rewhite as a sheet. It's folly for you to practice while you are in thiscondition."
Gordon put on his sweater and then drew his coat over that. He wanderedoff by himself and sat down.
"Hang that fellow Merriwell!" he whispered to himself. "I never thoughthe would bother me so much. I am beginning to hate him. He is too cooland easy to suit me."
The practice was continued, and Merriwell showed up finely, so that OldPut was pleased.
The sophomores quit trying to have sport with the freshmen, as ithappened that two of the professors had wandered into the park and werelooking on from a distance.
Browning saw them.
"Why are they out here?" he snapped. "Never knew 'em to come before. Iwon't even get a chance to talk to Merriwell."
"Better keep away from him this afternoon," cautioned Hartwick. "Hecan't escape you, and there is plenty of time."
"That's so," agreed Bruce. "But I hate to think how he is crowing tohimself over the way the freshies got into the park. I'd like to takethe starch out of him at once."
Hartwick induced Browning to leave the park, and the departure of theking caused the sophomores to wander away in small groups.
As a general thing they were discussing Merriwell, his position with thefreshmen, and his pitching. Some insisted that he was not a pitcher andwould never make one, while others were equally confident that he wasbound to become a great twirler some day.
Some of the groups discussed the antagonism between Merriwell andBrowning, and all were confident that the king would do the freshmanwhen he got himself into condition. It was not strange that theybelieved so, for they remembered how Bruce had knocked out Kid Lajoie,who was a professional.
Browning himself proceeded directly to his rooms, where he sat himselfdown and fell to thinking. Twice had he been up against Merriwell, andhe had found out that the leader of the freshmen was no easy thing. Inneither struggle had he obtained an advantage through his own unaidedefforts, and in this last affair he had felt that he was losing hiswind, while Merriwell seemed as fresh as ever till he was thrown by athird party.
"That's where I am not yet his match," Bruce soberly decided. "If I werefortunate enough to land a knockout blow with my left at the outset I'dfinish him easily; but if he should play me and keep out of my reach hemight get me winded so he could finally get the best of it. I must workoff
more flesh."
Having arrived at this conclusion, Browning was decidedly glad that hisfriends had kept him from closing in on Merriwell and forcing a fight onthe ball field.
"Another week will do it," Bruce thought. "No matter what is said, I'llnot meet that fellow till I am his match--till I am more than his match,for I must do him. If I do not my days as king of the sophs arenumbered. I can see now that some of the fellows sympathize secretlywith Merriwell, although they do not dare do so openly. It must bestopped. He may be a first-class fellow, but when he treads on my cornsI kick."
Hartwick tried to talk to Bruce, but the latter would say very little,and it was not long before he left the room.
Browning stepped out briskly, and a stranger who saw him could not havebelieved that he had the reputation of being the laziest lad in college.
In one line Bruce was thoroughly aroused, but he was neglecting hisstudies in a shameful manner, and more than once a warning voice toldhim that while he was putting himself in condition to dispose ofMerriwell he was getting into trouble in another quarter.
He did not heed that warning, however. His one thought was to retain hisposition as king of the sophomores, and in order to do that he must notlet any freshman triumph over him.
In town he went directly to a certain saloon and stopped at the bar,although he did not order a drink.
"Is the professor in?" he asked.
"I think he is," replied the barkeeper.
Then Browning passed through into a back room and climbed some dirtystairs, finally rapping at a door.
"Come in!" called a harsh voice.
Bruce pushed open the door and entered. The room was quite large, butwas not very clean. The walls were pasted over with sporting picturestaken from illustrated papers. There was a bed, some old chairs, one ofwhich had a broken back, a center table, a cracked mirror, and twocuspidors. A door opened into another room beyond.
Lounging in a chair, with his feet on the table beside an empty beerbottle and dirty glass, was a ruffianly-looking chap, who had a thickneck that ran straight up with the back of his head. His hair was closecropped and his forehead low. There was a bulldog look about his mouthand jaw, and his forehead was strangely narrow.
The man was smoking a black, foul-smelling pipe, while the hands whichheld a pink-tinted illustrated paper were enormous, with huge knucklesand joints. His hand when closed looked formidable enough to knock downan ox.
"How do you do, professor?" saluted Bruce.
"Waryer," growled the man, still keeping his feet on the table. "So it'syou, is it? Dis ain't your day."
"I know it, but I decided to come around just the same. I am notgetting the flesh off as fast as I ought."
"Hey?" roared the man, letting his feet fall with a crash. "Wot's dat?D'yer men ter say I ain't doin' a good job wid yer? Wot der blazes!"
"Oh, you are doing all right, professor, but I find I must be incondition sooner than I thought. My gymnasium exercise doesn't seemto--"
"Dat gymnasium work is no good--see? I knows wot I'm givin' yer, too. Itold yer in der first place ter stick ter me, an' I'd put yer in shape.It'll cost more, but--"
"I don't mind that. No matter what it costs, I must be in condition tolick that fellow I was telling you about, and I must be in condition oneweek from to-day."
"Dat's business. I'll put yer dere. An' yer know wot I told yer--I'llshow yer a trick dat'll finish him dead sure ef de mug is gittin' debest of yer. It'll cost yer twenty-five extra ter learn dat trick, butit never fails."
Browning showed sudden interest.
"I had forgotten about that," he said. "What will it do?"
"It'll do der bloke what ye're after, dat's wot."
"Yes, but how--how?"
"T'ink I'm goin' ter give der hull t'ing erway? Well, I should say nit!I tells yer it'll fix him, and it'll fix him so dere won't be no morefight in him. It'll paralyze him der first t'ing, an' he won't be nobetter dan a stiff."
"How bad will it hurt him?"
The man paused a moment and then added:
"Well, I don't mind sayin' dat it'll break his wrist. Yer can do it defirst crack arter I shows yer how, but it'll cost twenty-five plunks terlearn der trick."
After a few moments of hesitation Browning drew forth his pocketbook andcounted out twenty-five dollars.