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Fast Nine Part 8

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"Sure he is, and as chipper as ever. Only grins when anybody tries to josh him about flying. Nothing ever feases that feller. He comes up again after every knockdown, as fresh as a daisy. Says he's going to give the old town a sensation some day before long. And he means it, too," remarked one of the other boys near by.

Elmer and Lil Artha exchanged meaning glances, and presently the latter managed to whisper to his companion of the morning:

"Did you do it, Elmer?"

"I asked my father what I ought to do, and he sent me over to tell Mr.

Jones the whole story, because all sorts of yarns were going around, and he said Toby's mother might hear something awful had happened, and be frightened."



"And what did Mr. Jones say?" continued Lil Artha.

"He laughed a little," replied Elmer, then looked serious like. "I rather expect he'll put a crimp in Toby's flying business after this, though up to now he's rather encouraged the boy, thinking it was smart in him. Now he sees the danger. But get out in the field, and throw in a few from first, old fellow."

The scene was an animated one, with boys in uniform and without, banging out high flies, pa.s.sing b.a.l.l.s, and exercising generally. It really seemed as though every one in the town who could get off must be there that afternoon to see how the Hickory Ridge team gave promise of playing when up against the strong Fairfield nine.

Girls had come down in flocks, and not a few men were present, among whom Elmer noticed his old friend, Colonel Hitchins.

This fact caused him to remember something, and the sight of his catcher, Mark c.u.mmings, fitted right in with his thoughts. Apparently Mark had also noticed the presence of the Colonel, for after throwing up his hand as a signal that he had had enough of practice for the time being, he advanced toward Elmer, and was presently speaking in a low tone to him.

"See who's here, Elmer?" he asked.

"Well, I notice a lot of mighty pretty girls for one thing," smiled the other.

"You know I don't mean them, or any particular girl," replied the catcher, who was a singularly modest lad as well as a handsome one.

"Over yonder in that bunch--the old colonel!"

"Oh, yes, I noticed him a bit ago," remarked Elmer. "But that isn't surprising. He's always taken a heap of interest in boys' sports, and used to play baseball many years ago, he says, when it was a new game.

He told me he was in a nine that played the old Cincinnati Reds the first year they ever had a league. And that was a long time ago, Mark."

"You're right, it was, Elmer; but when I saw the colonel it reminded me that so far I haven't done anything about finding out how that lost cap of mine happened to be picked up under his peach trees, when I dropped it a mile away, over on the bank of the Sunflower."

"I heard that two men had been arrested, charged with stealing those peaches," Elmer remarked.

"Yes, that's so, for they were silly enough to sell the fruit to Phil Dongari, the man who keeps the biggest fruit store in town. Colonel Hitchins could tell his prize peaches anywhere, so he went and bought them back again; and getting a line on the men, had them put in the town cooler, where they are yet."

"Just so, Mark; that's ancient history," smiled Elmer; "but as you say it doesn't do the first thing along the line of explaining how your cap got under those same trees, does it?"

"But, Elmer, I'm relying on you to get a move on and find out something before the trail gets cold," argued Mark.

"That sounds pretty fine, my boy," observed Elmer; "but what makes you believe I can do anything to help out? You've got all the advantages I have."

"That's so," admitted Mark; "only I'm a greenhorn about following a trail, and you know heaps. Besides, something in your manner seems to tell me you've already got a hunch on about this thing."

"Oh, that's the way you look at it, eh?" mocked Elmer.

"Yes, I haven't been going with you all this time not to know how to read your face and actions," replied Mark, boldly. "And it's my honest opinion right now that if you chose you could put your finger on the culprit."

"Thank you for your confidence, my boy; but I'm not quite so dead sure as you make out," returned Elmer.

"But you _think_ you know?" protested Mark.

"I believe I've got a good clew; I admit that, Mark."

"Were you over there again?" demanded the other.

"Now you're referring to where you lost your old cap, I take it?" Elmer said in a noncommittal way.

"That's just what I mean--over on the bank of the Sunflower, where Lil Artha began kidding me, and in consequence my cap fell off. You rode over on your wheel, didn't you, Elmer?"

"Well, yes, I did," the other admitted; "but not like you, to look for the cap, because at the time I went I happened to know it had been found, and you had it at home."

"Then why should you bother going all that way over a rough path? Hold on, let me change that question, because I see why you wanted to look over the ground. Did you find anything there to tell you who picked that cap up?" and Mark looked directly in the face of his chum.

"If I did you needn't expect that I'm going to tell you about it till I'm good and ready," laughed Elmer. "And that will be inside of twenty-four hours, perhaps. This is Sat.u.r.day, and by Monday night I hope I'll be in a position to show you something interesting. Just bottle up till then, my boy. And now there's the scrub team going out, so we have lost the toss and must take our first turn at bat."

Mark knew that it would be useless trying to urge his chum to relent.

Elmer no doubt had some good reason for holding off longer. So, although he was very anxious to learn the solution of the mystery connected with his cap, Mark put the matter out of his mind for the time being and prepared to play ball.

The game was, as before, hotly contested.

Johnny Kline, as captain of the scrub, bent every energy to beating the regulars, and pitched as he had never done before. But Elmer was also in fine fettle on this bright Sat.u.r.day afternoon. His speed was better than ever; and when in pinches he floated the ball up in one of those tantalizing drops, he had the heaviest slugger guessing and beating the air in a vain attempt to connect.

The crowd numbered several hundreds, and they were as ready to applaud any clever work on the part of the scrub players as Lil Artha's team.

And with such a host of pretty high-school girls present every fellow strove to do his best in order to merit the hand clapping that followed every bit of fine play.

For five innings the score stood at nothing to nothing. Elmer was equal to each and every crisis, and somehow the boys back of him did not seem able to solve the puzzling delivery of Johnny Kline any better than the scrub team did that of the scout pitcher.

In the sixth there came a break. Lil Artha led off with a rousing two bagger, and the next man up, who happened to be Chatz Maxfield, sent him to third with a clever sacrifice, for which he was noted.

Then along came Red, who was equal to the emergency, and whipped out a tremendous fly which the fielder caught handsomely, but tumbled all over himself in so doing; and of course the long-legged first baseman had no difficulty in getting home before the ball could be returned to the diamond. Indeed, Lil Artha was such a remarkable runner that once he got his base his club counted on a tally three times out of four.

That broke the ice, and in the innings that followed the boys took sweet revenge on Johnny's benders, smashing them to all parts of the field until the spectators were roaring with laughter and a halt had to be called to let the overworked fellow in center come in to get a reviving drink of water.

The result of the game was a score of eleven to two, and neither of these runs for the scrub were earned, but presented to them on errors in the field.

"It looks good to me," remarked Red Huggins, as he and several others of the scouts plodded homeward after the conclusion of the game. "If we can do as clever work on Monday as we did this afternoon, those Fairfield giants won't have a show for their money."

"And that's what we're going to do, just you make your mind up to it,"

declared Lil Artha. "And to think what a great catch our Toby made when he had to run and jump into the air for that liner. Shows he's all to the good, no matter if he did get such a bounce this morning. We'd miss him if he took a notion to fly away between now and Monday P.M.," and the speaker cast a side glance toward the right fielder, who was limping along, talking over the game with Ty Collins.

"Oh, there are several good fellows just waiting for a chance to break in!" declared Red; "Larry Billings, for instance, who can hit 'em some; Jack Armitage, who is nearly as swift as Lil Artha on the bases; and George Robbins, who knows how to rattle a pitcher to beat the band. I guess we don't need to worry, since we've got plenty of good material handy in case of accidents."

"But Toby isn't going to fail us," a.s.serted Elmer. "He's too good a scout not to know his duty in this crisis. For we've just got to beat that Fairfield crowd this time, or we'll never hear the end of it."

"Don't worry, fellows; if we play like we did to-day we'll have their number, all right. Wait till you see how Elmer teases their heavy batters with that drop of his! There'll be need of a lot of dope after the game, for the arms that swing nearly out of joint swiping the air.

Wow, don't I wish to-morrow was Monday, though!" and Lil Artha gave further emphasis to his wrought-up feelings by a certain gesture that was one of his peculiarities.

"I've heard lots of people say Hickory Ridge never had so fast a nine before," remarked Matty.

"Thspare our blushes, pleath!" laughed Ted Burgoyne, who could never conquer that hissing habit that caused him to lisp, though no one ever heard him admit the fact, which he always vigorously denied.

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Fast Nine Part 8 summary

You're reading Fast Nine. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Alan Douglas. Already has 655 views.

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