CHAPTER XXXIII.
"PLAY BALL!'"
Before night Merriwell received an appealing letter from Ditson, inwhich the young scapegrace protested his sorrow and entreated Frank todo what he could to keep the matter quiet, so he would not be forced toleave Yale.
Ditson declared it would break his mother's heart if he failed tocomplete his course at Yale. Over and over he entreated forgiveness,telling how sorry he was that he had ever tried to injure Merriwell inany way, and declaring that, if Frank would forgive and forget, he wouldnever cause him any further trouble.
Frank pondered over the letter so long, and with sach a serious look onhis face, that Harry asked him what he had struck. Then Merriwell readit to his roommate.
"Oh, what a snizerable meak--I mean miserable sneak, that fellow is!"exclaimed Harry. "He goes into a dirty piece of business like this, andthen he gets down and crawls--actually crawls!"
"I have no doubt but his mother is proud of him," said Frank. "He sayshe is an only son. It is his mother, not Ditson, I am thinking about. Ido not wish to cause her so much pain."
"Oh, come off! If a fellow is such a snake as Ditson, he must get itfrom his parents on one side or the other. Perhaps his mother is not sogood."
"I do not wish to think that of any fellow's mother. I much prefer tothink that he takes all his bad qualities from the other side of thehouse. I remember my own mother--the dearest, gentlest, sweetest womanin all the world! How she loved me! How proud she was of me! All thebetter part of my nature I owe to her, God bless her!"
Frank spoke with deep feeling, and Rattleton was touched and silenced.Merriwell arose and walked the floor, and there was an expression of theutmost tenderness and adoration on his face--a look that broughtsomething like a mist to Harry's eyes. Frank seemed to have forgottenhis companion, and he gently murmured:
"My angel mother!"
That was too much for Harry, and he coughed huskily, in an attempt tobreak the spell without being rude. Frank immediately turned, and said:
"I beg your pardon, old man. I forgot myself, for a moment."
"Oh, don't pard my begoner--that is, begon my pard--no, I mean peg mybardon! Hang it all! I'm all twisted! I don't know what I am trying tosay!"
In confusion Harry got up and went to look out of the window.
"Jeewhittaker! I'm glad Merry don't get this way often!" he thought."Never knew him to do it before."
After some moments Frank declared:
"I am going to try to hush this Ditson matter up, Harry."
"You are?"
"Yes, for the sake of Ditson's mother. I want you to help me. We'll gosee Putnam and Jones. If they have told anybody, we'll see the others. Iam the one who has the greatest cause for complaint, and if I am willingto drop it, I am sure Putnam should be. Come on, old man. Let's not loseany time."
"Well, I suppose you are right," admitted Harry, as he reached for hiscap. "But there's not another person on top of the earth who couldinduce me to keep still in such a case. It is a second offense, too."
So they went out together, and searched for Putnam and Jones.
At first Putnam was obstinate, and utterly refused to let Ditson off;but Frank took him aside, and talked earnestly to him for fifteenminutes, finally securing his promise to keep silent. It was notdifficult to silence Jones, and so the matter was hushed up for thetime. Nothing was said to Ditson, who was left in suspense as to whatcourse would be pursued.
A day or two later came the very thing that had been anticipated anddiscussed, since the freshman game at Cambridge. Merriwell was selectedas one of the pitchers on the 'Varsity nine, and the freshmen lost himfrom their team.
Putnam came out frankly and confessed that he had feared something ofthe kind, all along, and Frank was in no mood to kick over his pasttreatment, so nothing was said on that point.
In the first game against a weaker team than Harvard, Merriwell wastried in the box and pitched a superb game, which Yale won in a walk.
Big Hugh Heffiner, the regular pitcher, whose arm was in a bad way,complimented Merriwell on his work, which he said was "simply great."
Of course Frank felt well, as for him there was no sport he admired somuch as baseball; but he remained the same old Merriwell, and hisfreshmen comrades could not see the least change in his manner.
The second game of the series with Harvard came off within a week, butFrank got cold in his arm, and he was not in the best possible conditionto go into the box. This he told Pierson, and as Heffiner had almostentirely recovered, Frank was left on the bench.
The 'Varsity team had another pitcher, who was known as Dad Hicks. Hewas a man about twenty-eight years old, and looked even older, hence thenickname of Dad.
This man was most erratic and could not be relied upon. Sometimes hewould do brilliant work, and at other time children could have battedhim all over the lot. He was used only in desperate emergencies, andcould not be counted on in a pinch.
During the whole of the second game with Harvard Frank sat on the bench,ready to go into the box if called on. At first it looked as if he wouldhave to go in, for the Harvard boys fell upon Heffiner and pounded himseverely for two innings. Then Hugh braced up and pitched the gamethrough to the end in brilliant style, Yale winning by a score of ten toseven.
Heffiner, however, was forced to bathe his arm in witch hazelfrequently, and as he went toward the box for the last time he said toFrank with a rueful smile:
"You'll have to get into shape to pitch the last game of the series withthese chaps. My arm is the same as gone now, and I'll finish it thisinning. We must win this game anyway, regardless of arms, so here goes."
He could barely get the balls over the plate, but he used his head in awonderful manner, and the slow ball proved a complete puzzle for Harvardafter they had been batting speed all through the game, so they got butone safe hit off Heffiner that inning and no scores.
There was a wild jubilee at Yale that night. A bonfire was built on thecampus, and the students blew horns, sang songs, cheered for "good oldYale," and had a real lively time.
One or two of the envious ones asked about Merriwell--why he was notallowed to pitch. Even Hartwick, a sophomore who had disliked Frank fromthe first, more than hinted that the freshman pitcher was being madesport of, and that he would not be allowed to go into the box when Yalewas playing a team of any consequence.
Jack Diamond overheard the remark, and he promptly offered to betHartwick any sum that Merriwell would pitch the next game againstHarvard.
Diamond was a freshman, and so he received a calling down from Hartwick,who told him he was altogether too new. But as Hartwick strolled away,Diamond quietly said:
"I may be new, sir, but I back up any talk I make. There are others whodo not, sir."
Hartwick made no reply.
As the third and final game of the series was to be played on neutralground, there had been some disagreement about the location, butSpringfield had finally been decided upon, and accepted by Yale andHarvard.
Frank did his best to keep his arm in good condition for that game,something which Pierson approved. Hicks was used as much as possible inall other games, but Frank found it necessary to pull one or two off thecoals for him.
Heffiner had indeed used his arm up in the grand struggle to win thesecond game from Harvard--the game that it was absolutely necessary forYale to secure. He tended that arm as if it were a baby, but it had beenstrained severely and it came into shape very slowly. As soon aspossible he tried to do a little throwing every day, but it was sometime before he could get a ball more than ten or fifteen feet.
It became generally known that Merriwell would have to pitch atSpringfield, beyond a doubt, and the greatest anxiety was felt at Yale.Every man had confidence in Heffiner, but it was believed by themajority that the freshman was still raw, and therefore was liable tomake a wretched fizzle of it.
Heffiner did not think so. He coached Merriwell almost every day, andhis confidence in Frank increased.
/>
"The boy is all right," was all he would say about it, but that did notsatisfy the anxious ones.
During the week before the deciding game was to come off Heffiner's armimproved more rapidly than it had at any time before, and scores of menurged Pierson to put Old Reliable, as Hugh was sometimes called, intothe box.
A big crowd went up to Springfield on the day of the great game, but the"sons of Old Eli" were far from confident, although they were determinedto root for their team to the last gasp.
The most disquieting rumors had been afloat concerning Harvard. It wassaid her team was in a third better condition than at the opening of theseason, when she took the first game from Yale; and it could not beclaimed with honesty that the Yale team was apparently in any bettershape. Although she had won the second game of the series with Harvard,her progress had not been satisfactory.
A monster crowd had gathered to witness the deciding game. Blue andcrimson were the prevailing colors. On the bleachers at one side of thegrandstand sat hundreds upon hundreds of Harvard men, cheering alltogether and being answered by the hundreds of Yale men on the otherside of the grand stand. There were plenty of ladies and citizenspresent and the scene was inspiring. A band of music served to quickenthe blood in the veins which were already throbbing.
There was short preliminary practice, and then at exactly three o'clockthe umpire walked down behind the home plate and called: "Play ball!"
CHAPTER XXXIV.
A HOT FINISH.
Yale took the field, and as the boys in blue trotted out, the familiarYale yell broke from hundreds of throats. Blue pennants were wildlyfluttering, the band was playing a lively air, and for the moment itseemed as if the sympathy of the majority of the spectators was withYale.
But when Hinkley, Harvard's great single hitter, who always headed thebatting list, walked out with his pet "wagon tongue," a different soundswept over the multitude, and the air seemed filled with crimsonpennants.
Merriwell went into the box, and the umpire broke open a pasteboard box,brought out a ball that was wrapped in tin foil, removed the covering,and tossed the snowy sphere to the freshman pitcher Yale had soaudaciously stacked up against Harvard.
Frank looked the box over, examined the rubber plate, and seemed to makehimself familiar with every inch of the ground in his vicinity. Then hefaced Hinkley, and a moment later delivered the first ball.
Hinkley smashed it on the nose, and it was past Merriwell in a second,skipping along the ground and passing over second base just beyond thebaseman's reach, although he made a good run for it.
The center fielder secured the ball and returned it to second, butHinkley had made a safe single off the very first ball delivered.
Harvard roared, while the Yale crowd was silent.
A great mob of freshmen was up from New Haven to see the game and watchMerriwell's work, and some of them immediately expressed disappointmentand dismay.
"Here is where Merriwell meets his Waterloo," said Sport Harris. "He'llbe batted out before the game is fairly begun."
That was quite enough to arouse Rattleton, who heard the remark.
"I'll bet you ten dollars he isn't batted out at all,"' splutteredHarry, fiercely. "Here's my money, too!"
"Make it twenty-five and I will go you," drawled Harris.
"All right, I'll make it twenty-five."
The money was staked.
Derry, also a heavy hitter, was second on Harvard's list. Derry had abat that was as long and as large as the regulations would permit, andas heavy as lead; yet, despite the weight of the stick, the strappingVermonter handled it as if it were a feather.
Frank sent up a coaxer, but Derry refused to be coaxed. The second ballwas high, but Derry cracked it for two bags, and Hinkley got around tothird.
It began to seem as if Merriwell would be batted out in the firstinning, and the Yale crowd looked weary and disgusted at the start.
The next batter fouled out, however, and the next one sent a red-hotliner directly at Merriwell. There was no time to get out of the way, soFrank caught it, snapped the ball to third, found Hinkley off the bag,and retired the side without a score.
This termination of the first half of the inning was so swift andunexpected that it took some seconds for the spectators to realize whathad happened. When they did, however, Yale was wildly cheered.
"What do you think about it now, Harris?" demanded Harry, exultantly.
"I think Merriwell saved his neck by a dead lucky catch," was theanswer. "If he had missed that ball he would have been removed withinfive minutes."
Pierson, who was sitting on the bench, was looking doubtful, and he helda consultation with Costigan, captain of the team, as soon as the lattercame in from third base.
Costigan asked Frank how he felt, and Merriwell replied that he hadnever felt better in his life, so it was decided to let him see what hecould do in the box the next inning.
Yedding, who was in the box for Harvard, could not have been in bettercondition, and the first three Yale men to face him went out inone-two-three order, making the first inning a whitewash for both sides.
As Merriwell went into the box the second time there were cries forHeffiner, who was on the bench, ready to pitch if forced to do so, forall of the fact that it might ruin his arm forever, so far as ballplaying was concerned.
In trying to deceive the first man up Merriwell gave him three balls insuccession. Then he was forced to put them over. He knew the batterwould take one or two, and so he sent two straight, swift ones directlyover, and two strikes were called.
Then came the critical moment, for the next ball pitched would settlethe matter. Frank sent in a rise and the batter struck at it, missed it,and was declared out, the ball having landed with a "plunk" in the handsof the catcher.
The next batter got first on a single, but the third man sent an easyone to Frank, who gathered it in, threw the runner out at second, andthe second baseman sent the ball to first in time to retire the side ona double play.
"You are all right, Merriwell, old man," enthusiastically declaredHeffiner, as Frank came in to the bench. "They haven't been able toscore off you yet, and they won't be able to touch you at all after youget into gear."
Pierson was relieved, and Costigan looked well satisfied.
"Now we must have some scores, boys," said the captain.
But Yedding showed that he was out for blood, for he allowed but onesafe hit, and again retired Yale without a score.
Surely it was a hot game, and excitement was running high. Would Harvardbe able to score the next time? That was the question everybody wasasking.
Yedding came to the bat in this inning, and Merriwell struck him outwith ease, while not another man got a safe hit, although one got firston the shortstop's error.
The Yale crowd cheered like Indians when Harvard was shut out for thethird time, the freshmen seeming to yell louder than all the others.They originated a cry which was like this:
"He is doing very well! Who? Why, Merriwell!"
Merriwell was the first man up, and Yedding did his best to get squareby striking the freshman out. In this he was successful, much to hissatisfaction.
But no man got a hit, and the third inning ended as had the others,neither side having made a run.
The fourth opened in breathless suspense, but it was quickly over,neither side getting a man beyond second.
It did not seem possible that this thing could continue much longer, butthe fifth inning brought the same result, although Yale succeeded ingetting a man to third with only one out. An attempt to sacrifice himhome failed, and a double play was made, retiring the side.
Harvard opened the sixth by batting a ball straight at Yale's shortstop,who played tag with it, chasing it around his feet long enough to allowthe batter to reach first. It was not a hit, but an error for short.
This seemed to break the Yale team up somewhat. The runner tried forsecond on the first ball pitched, and Yale's catcher overthrew, althoughhe had pl
enty of time to catch the man. The runner kept on to third andgot it on a slide.
Now Harvard rejoiced. Although he had not obtained a hit, the man hadreached third on two errors, and there was every prospect of scoring.
Merriwell did not seem to lose his temper or his coolness. He tookplenty of time to let everybody get quieted down, and then he quicklystruck out the next man. The third man, however, managed to hit the ballfairly and knocked a fly into left field. It was gathered in easily,but the man on third held the bag till the fly was caught and made adesperate dash for home.
The left fielder threw well, and the ball struck in the catcher's mitt.It did not stick, however, and the catcher lost the only opportunity tostop the score.
Harvard had scored at last!
The Harvard cheer rent the air, and crimson fluttered on all sides.
Frank struck out the next man, and then Yale came to bat, resolved to door die. But they did not do much. Yedding was as good as ever, and thefielders gathered in anything that came their way.
At the end of the eighth inning the score remained one to nothing inHarvard's favor. It looked as if Yale would receive a shut out, and thatwas something awful to contemplate. The "sons of Old Eli" were ready todo anything to win a score or two.
In the first half of the ninth Harvard went at it to make some moreruns. One man got a hit, stole second, and went to third on an errorthat allowed the batter to reach first.
Sport Harris had been disappointed when Merriwell continued to remain inthe box, but now he said:
"He's rattled. Here's where they kill him."
But Frank proved that he was not rattled. He tricked the man on thirdinto getting off the bag and then threw him out in a way that brought ayell of delight from Yale men. That fixed it so the next batter couldnot sacrifice with the object of letting the man on third home. Then hegot down to business, and Harvard was whitewashed for the last time.
"Oh, if Yale can score now!" muttered hundreds.
The first man up flied out to center, and the next man was thrown out atfirst. That seemed to settle it. The spectators were making preparationsto leave. The Yale bat-tender, with his face long and doleful, wasgathering up the sticks.
What's that? The next man got a safe hit, a single that placed him onfirst. Then Frank Merriwell was seen carefully selecting a bat.
"Oh, if he were a heavy hitter!" groaned many voices.
Yedding was confident--much too confident. He laughed in Frank's face.He did not think it necessary to watch the man on first closely, and sothat man found an opportunity to steal second.
Two strikes and two balls had been called. Then Yedding sent in a swiftone to cut the inside corner. Merriwell swung at it.
Crack! Bat and ball met fairly, and away sailed the sphere over the headof the shortstop.
"Run!"
That word was a roar. No need to tell Frank to run. In a moment he wasscudding down to first, while the left fielder was going back for theball which had passed beyond his reach. Frank kept on for second. Therewas so much noise he could not hear the coachers, but he saw the fielderhad not secured the ball. He made third, and the excited coacher senthim home with a furious gesture.
Every man, woman and child was standing. It seemed as if every one wasshouting and waving flags, hats, or handkerchiefs. It was a moment ofsuch thrilling, nerve-tingling excitement as is seldom experienced. IfMerriwell reached home Yale won; if he failed, the score was tied, forthe man in advance had scored.
The fielder had secured the ball, he drove it to the shortstop, andshortstop whirled and sent it whistling home. The catcher was ready tostop Merriwell.
"Slide!"
That word Frank heard above all the commotion. He did slide. Forward hescooted in a cloud of dust. The catcher got the ball and put it ontoFrank--an instant too late!
A sudden silence.
"Safe home!" rang the voice of the umpire.
Then another roar, louder, wilder, full of unbounded joy! The Yalecheer! The band drowned by all the uproar! The sight of sturdy lads inblue, delirious with delight, hugging a dust-covered youth, lifting himto their shoulders, and bearing him away in triumph. Merriwell had wonhis own game, and his record was made. It was a glorious finish!
"Never saw anything better," declared Harry. "Frank, you are a wonder!"
"He is that!" declared several others. "Old Yale can't get along withouthim."
THE END.
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