The New Boys at Oakdale Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  THE SCORE TIED.

  Jack Nelson sprang up from the bench, his face pale, his eyes flashingwith anger. Osgood had stopped abruptly on his way to first, realizingthat the double play sent Oakdale back to the field, and turned to crossthe diamond to his position at third base. Nelson met him near thepitcher's position.

  "What do you mean, Osgood," he demanded hoarsely--"what do you mean bydisobeying my order? I told you to sacrifice."

  "But it was a fine chance to hit the ball out and make some runs,"returned the disobedient player defendingly. "Sacrificing with one mandown didn't look like good baseball to me."

  "It makes no difference how it looked to you; your place was to followmy instructions. Stone has been hitting Leach hard and safely, and, withGrant on second, even a long single might have given us another score."

  "I beg your pardon," said Osgood haughtily, "but I played baseballbefore I ever saw Oakdale, and I know something."

  "That will do," interrupted the wrathy captain. "I don't care how muchbaseball you know, you'll have to obey me if you play on this team, andyou may as well understand that at once. You can see that you threw awaya chance for a run by hitting into that double play."

  Ned Osgood was not the sort of fellow to relish this style of talk evenfrom the captain of his nine, and for a moment he was tempted to make asarcastic rejoinder. Something prevented him from doing this, however,and he walked onward toward third, shrugging his shoulders. His mannerwas so irritating to Nelson that for the moment, even though Osgood hadshown himself to be the best available man for the position he filled,Jack was tempted to bench him instantly. This temptation was put aside,but it was followed by an immediate decision to stand no morefoolishness from Osgood.

  The alarm that had been awakened in the bosoms of the Wyndhamites byGrant's safe drive was dissipated in joy over the defensive work of thehome team, which had prevented the Texan from advancing further. Boysand girls of Wyndham High cheered in concert and waved their banners,while the crowd of older sympathizers made a great uproar.

  Like Nelson, Grant had been extremely annoyed by Osgood's pigheadedaction, and the Oakdale pitcher was somewhat disturbed as he resumed hisposition on the firing line.

  "Hard luck, Rod," said Stone, the somewhat taciturn catcher, as hebuckled on the body protector.

  "It wasn't luck," denied Grant; "it was mulish foolishness, nothingless."

  Laughing and well satisfied, the Wyndham lads capered to their bench,where Leach, seeking for his bat, listened and nodded as Captain Baxtergave him a word of instruction.

  "Don't try to kill that wild and woolly Texan's speed, Lefty," saidBaxter. "He's burning 'em over like bullets, and we're swinging ourheads off. Just try to meet 'em, that's all."

  Grant's annoyance was made still further apparent when he opened with aweirdly wild heave over Stone's head that would have counted against himas a wild pitch had there been a runner on the sacks.

  "Going up," shouted some one from the Wyndham bleachers; and, in aneffort to rattle the pitcher, the crowd redoubled the racket it wasmaking.

  Seeing that the pitcher was unsteady, Stone began to fuss over his maskstrap, which had suddenly become unsatisfactory and needed adjustment.The entire Oakdale team felt the tension of the moment, and Stone'ssubterfuge met their approval. On the other hand, it led their opponentsto protest against the delay and urge the umpire to make them play.

  Apparently getting the mask strap fixed at last, Ben resumed hisposition behind the pan and squatted to signal between his knees. Rodshook his head, and the catcher changed the signal. Then Grant noddedand pitched.

  Faithful to instructions, Leach took a short grip on his bat and broughtit round quickly to meet the ball. There was a ring of wood againstleather, and an instant later Nelson, flinging himself to one side,reached for the grounder. It struck his gloved hand and carromed off tothe left. He went after it instantly, scooped it up and shot it to Craneat first, but it arrived a bare second too late.

  The Wyndham crowd cheered as madly as if Leach had reached the initialsack on a clean hit instead of an error. Out in center field, Shultzlaughed with the satisfaction of a player who, lacking whole-souledinterest in his team, feels that his own bad work has been minimized bythat of a teammate. In this case his satisfaction was made the greaterby the fact that the minimizing error had been contributed by the chapwho had criticized him a short time before.

  Nelson stood still for an instant, then held up his hand for the ball,which Crane threw to him. Turning, the captain made a signal, whichcaused Cooper to take his position on second. Tossing the sphere toChipper, Jack walked into the diamond and spoke in a low tone to Grant.

  "Don't let that rattle you, old man," he said. "I reckon we're both hotunder the collar, and we'd better cool off a bit. Take your time withthese chaps; they can't hit you."

  "I'd like to punch Osgood's head!" growled the Texan.

  "So would I, but that wouldn't help us win the game. Look out for asacrifice now. They've found they can't steal on Stone."

  "Play ball! play ball!" howled the crowd.

  "Play ball," said the umpire sharply.

  On first, Leach was seeking to add to the opposing twirler'sunsteadiness by uproarious laughter and the repeated declaration: "We'vegot him going! We've got him going!"

  Nelson was most deliberate about returning to his post, and not until hewas there did he nod for Cooper to give Grant the ball. Like a flashRodney shot it to first, and the laughter of Leach was cut short by agasp as he barely ducked under Crane's reaching hand.

  "Almost gug-got him then!" shouted Springer from right field.

  "Here's the head of the list," called a coacher, as Crispin squaredhimself in the batters' box. "Keep up the good work."

  In order to make it difficult for Crispin to bunt, Grant put one overhigh and close--too high and too close. Crispin caught himself in hisswing and then pretended that he had been hit on the shoulder; but thepretense was so palpably a fake that the umpire behind the pitcher, whochanced to be an Oakdale man, refused to let him take first. Naturally,the other umpire, who was in charge of the bases, said nothing, butsomehow his manner seemed to denote that he disagreed on the decision.This led to a kick by the Wyndham captain, who dropped it quickly,however, when reminded by a fellow player that the delay was givingOakdale a chance to steady down.

  Again Grant attempted to put the ball over high and close, but he simplygot it across the inside corner slightly below the batter's shoulders,and Crispin made a successful bunt that rolled along just inside thefirst base line. Jumping over the ball, the hitter sprinted hard forfirst.

  Grant scooped up the rolling sphere and heard Nelson's sharp cry to putit to first. It whistled past Crispin's ear and spanked into Crane'smitt.

  "Out at first," said the Wyndham umpire, with something like a touch ofregret.

  "Good work, Crispin," gleefully called Baxter, giving the player a slapon the shoulder. "That was a beauty bunt, old boy. Now we've got 'emwhere we want 'em."

  Even as he spoke he signaled from his position on the coaching line forFoxhall to hit the ball out; and Foxhall was liable to do it if anybodycould.

  Grant worked carefully with this batter, meanwhile holding Crispin asclose to first as possible. Nevertheless, Foxhall swung uselessly onlyonce. The second time he whipped his bat round he connected with thehorsehide and sent the sphere skimming along the ground straight atCooper.

  Eager and anxious, Chipper booted it beautifully. Like a cat he chasedit up and made a futile effort to get the hitter. The throw was a caseof bad judgment as well as a wild heave, which even long-geared SileCrane could not reach.

  So while Crane was chasing after the ball, Foxhall, who should have beenout, romped on to second, and Leach scored amid a tremendous tumult.

  Grinning broadly, Sam Cohen, Wyndham's heavy-hitting left-fielder,danced out to the plate, determined to keep things moving. Surely, itlooked like Wyndham's opportunity, and, besides the
desire to preventthe visitors from settling down, there was a legitimate excuse for thecontinued uproar of the home crowd. Although they well knew that Grantwas little to blame for the turn of affairs, the Wyndham coachers weretrying hard to "get him going" by pretending that it was his fault, andbehind Rodney's back Foxhall capered on second, clapping his hands andmaking gestures intended to encourage the shrieking spectators.

  Never in his life had Chipper Cooper been more chagrined and ashamed.His face beet-red, he begged Nelson to kick him.

  "Get back to your position and play ball, Cooper," said the captain, ascalmly as he could. "We've got to stop this foolishness right here. Theymustn't make another run."

  Grant's teeth were set and his under jaw looked grim and hard. He knewwell enough that Cohen was especially dangerous at this stage of thegame, for the nervy Hebrew was one of those rare batters who hit betterin a pinch than at any other time, the necessity seeming always to primehim properly.

  Trying Cohen out with a bender that went wide in hopes that in hiseagerness he would be led to reach for it, Rodney delivered a ball. Thenext one was high and likewise wide, for Stone had seen Foxhall taking adangerous lead off second and called for a pitch that would put him ineasy position to throw. Nelson, awake to precisely what was transpiringbetween the battery men, made a leap for the sack before the ballreached Stone's hands, and Ben lined it down with a wonderful short-armthrow, which saved time and yet was full of powder.

  Only for the warning shouts of the wide-awake coachers, who had seemedto divine the move in advance, Foxhall might have been caught napping.As it was, he barely succeeded in sliding back to the sack, feet first,and the Wyndham umpire instantly spread his hands out, palm downward.Foxhall drew a breath of relief.

  A moment later Baxter shouted:

  "Got him in a hole, Cohen! Make him put 'em over now! Make him find thepan!"

  Steady as a rock, Grant did put the next one over, and Cohen, "playingthe game," let it pass for a called strike.

  "He can't do it again!" cried Baxter. "Make 'em be good!"

  Grant used a drop, starting the ball high so that it shot down past thebatsman's shoulders and across his chest. Even as the umpire called,"Strike two," the Oakdale players shouted a warning to Stone. It wasneedless, for Ben had seen Foxhall speeding along the line in adesperate and seemingly ill-advised attempt to purloin third. CraftilyCohen fell back a step to one side, as if to give the catcher room tothrow, but with the real purpose of bothering him as much as possiblewithout bringing, by interference, a penalty upon the runner. Possiblythis was the reason why Stone threw high, forcing Osgood to reach to thefull length of his arms in order to get the sphere. Almost invariablythe Oakdale catcher put the ball straight and low into the hands of thebaseman, so that the latter could tag a sliding runner quickly andeasily; and had he been able to do this now, Foxhall doubtless could nothave slid safely under Osgood, which, however, was precisely what he didsucceed in doing.

  "Who said we couldn't steal on old Stoney?" shouted Pelty from thecoaching line back of third. "Great work, Foxy, old man. You put thatone across on him."

  With only one local player gone and but a single run needed to tie thescore, the tension of the moment was intense. No one realized the dangerbetter than Grant, and when he pitched again he made another clevereffort to "pull" Cohen; an effort that almost succeeded, for Sam caughthimself just in time to prevent his bat from swinging across the plate.

  "Ball three," came from the umpire.

  "He's going to walk you, Cohen; he's afraid of you," came from Baxter.

  It must be admitted that Grant had considered the advisability ofhanding Cohen a pass, but knowing Wolcott, the fellow who came next, wasalmost as dangerous a hitter, he had decided that such a piece ofstrategy would be ill advised. Taking into consideration the batter'sability to meet speed, Rod shook his head when Stone called for astraight one on the inside corner. Ben knew at once that the Texanwished to try to strike Cohen out, and so he swiftly changed the signal.

  Now Cohen had brains in his head and was also a good guesser. Moreover,he knew that Grant relied largely upon his remarkable drop when astrike-out was needed. And so it happened that, seeing Rod decline tofollow the first signal, he was convinced that the pitcher would hand upone of those sharp dips.

  Having guessed right, the batter judged the drop beautifully and hit ita tremendous smash. Away sailed the ball toward center field, somedistance to the right of Shultz, who stretched his stout legs to getunder it.

  "He can't touch it!" was the cry.

  Nevertheless, when Foxhall started off third, Pelty, defiant of coachingrules, sprang forward, grabbed him and yanked him back.

  "Get on to that sack!" the little shortstop panted. "Get ready to run!You can score anyhow; you don't need a start."

  Thus advised, Foxhall leaped back to the cushion, upon which he plantedhis left foot with the right advanced, crouching, his hands clenched,his arms hooked the least bit, ready to get away like a sprinterstarting from his mark.

  Shultz made a splendid run, leaping into the air at the proper momentand thrusting out his bare right hand. The ball struck in that outshothand and stuck there.

  An instant before the catch was made Pelty shrieked, "Go," and Foxhallraced for the plate.

  It was impossible to stop that run. Cohen's long sacrifice fly had tiedthe score, in spite of the strenuous and sensational one-handed catch incenter field; and the crowd leaped and yelled, with arms up-flung andcaps hurled into the air.