Frank Merriwell's Cruise Part 25

"Woods is a dandy," said Diamond.

"They do not need me to pitch for them to-day," declared Frank.

Dayguild grinned and chewed gum as he entered the box and faced little McDornick, champion base runner of the Camdens. McDornick was palpitating with eagerness to hit the ball. He hated to let the first one pa.s.s, although Dayguild sent in a wide teaser. He went for the second one, and hammered it out for two bags, although with an ordinary runner it would have been no more than a pretty single.

"Gil, you're pie," laughed Williamson, from the bench.

"You will find him hot pie before the game is over," said a Rockland man.

Moslof went to bat. He was eager, also--far too eager, for he struck at the first ball, although it was not within reach. But McDornick stole third on it, reaching the bag in advance of the ball by a beautiful lone slide.

Then Moslof batted one down to Edwards and was thrown out at first.

Mower came next. Sometimes he was a hitter. This was not one of the times. He fanned out, and still McDornick was shivering on third.

Makune faced Dayguild. It was not for the first time, as he had faced him many times before in the New England League. Although Makune was not a heavy hitter, he had done remarkable work for the first of the season, and Dayguild was afraid of him. With the ball under his arm, the Rockland pitcher turned to observe the positions of the men in the field. His back was toward McDornick.

There was a shout of warning from the crowd, and Dayguild whirled to see a figure in crimson shooting toward the plate like a streak of fire.

It was McDornick attempting to steal home!

The nerve of the act dazed Dayguild for a moment, and then he threw the ball to the catcher, thinking to put out the runner with ease.

The catcher dropped it!

McDornick made a headlong plunge for the plate, touched it, leaped up and dodged away before the catcher could pick up the ball.

Camden had scored!

Roar, roar, roar! The crowd went wild with joy. The black cliffs above flung back the burst of sound. It seemed enough to wake the dead in the distant cemetery tinder the slope of Battie. It was heard far down in the heart of the town, and it brought more spectators hurrying to the ball ground.

Williamson sat on the bench and laughed tauntingly at Dayguild, who was fl.u.s.tered and excited.

"Now, if they know how to do the trick, they can win the game in this inning," said a Thomaston man.

But Makune was not in good form, and he rolled one down to third, being thrown out at first, which retired Camden with one score.

But Woods pitched wonderful ball the next inning, and Rockland was given another whitewash.

By this time Dayguild had recovered his composure, and he pitched so well that Slatridge, Woods and Williamson went out in quick succession.

Then came a fatal half for Camden. Merriwell had seen Woods feeling of his elbow and working it as if it did not feel just right, and he was not surprised when Rockland fell to batting the new pitcher of the Camdens.

"Moslof ought to take Woods out," Frank said to Diamond. "He has hurt that lame arm already."

"You must be wrong, Merry," said the Virginian. "See the speed he is using. Why, I can hardly see the ball as it goes over the plate."

"Speed is all he is using," declared Merriwell, "and Rockland is eating speed. He can't use his curves, as it hurts his arm to do so."

Now the Rockland crowd had a chance to yell and laugh, and cheer, for, although Woods seemed to be pitching good ball, the "Limeburners" had donned their "batting clothes," and were hitting anything and everything. The fielders were kept busy, and Rockland players chased each other round the bases till six scores had come in.

"I said Moslof ought to take Woods out," said Merriwell, soberly. "The game is lost now."

"Woods can't be the pitcher we thought he was," said Diamond, in disappointment.

"Woods is all right if he doesn't spoil that arm," a.s.serted Frank. "If he sticks to professional ball and takes care of his arm, he'll be in the National League before many years."[1]

[Footnote 1: A prophecy that has come true, as Walter Woods was signed by Chicago several years ago. He can play any position on the diamond, and is one of the cleanest men in the business. Not long ago he pitched on the Camden team of the Knox County League, in the State of Maine.

Sockalexis, the Indian player, who was with the Clevelands last season, and who created a sensation wherever he appeared, also played in the Knox County League.--The Author.]

At last Woods struck out the third man, and Rockland was retired, but not till she had secured a lead of five scores.

Dayguild laughed at Williamson as he went into the box.

"It's all over now," he declared. "Camden is buried."

"You can't tell about that," returned Williamson. "You have had your turn, ours will come."

But it did not come that day, although Woods pitched the game out and held Rockland down so that she obtained but one more score. The game finally ended seven to five in favor of Rockland.

A more delighted crowd than the rooters from the Limerock city could not be found. They guyed every Camdenite they knew. They declared that Camden was a snap for Rockland, and always would be a snap. They were insolent in their satisfaction and delight.

Down into town rushed the Rocklandites. They bought every tin horn they could find, and at least a dozen cow bells. They bought tin pans and drummed on them with sticks. They bought brooms and paraded with them to indicate that they had swept Camden clean. They made a frightful racket in the very heart of the village, and their scornful remarks about Camden and Camdenites in general were of a nature to arouse the anger of any inhabitant of the town at the foot of the mountains.

At last the cars from Rockland came, three of them being required to handle the crowd. They piled on and went out of Camden blowing horns, ringing bells, beating tin pans and howling derision.

Frank Merriwell stood on the corner near the opera house and heard all this. He could feel the blood within him getting warmer and warmer. He considered Moslof a fine fellow and he admired Woods. His sympathy was with Camden.

Moslof and Woods came down the street together and paused near Frank.

Woods was making no excuses.

"They hit me out, that's all," he said. "I want to pitch against them again when this arm is rested."

Frank stepped forward.

"When do you play Rockland again, Moslof?" he asked.

"To-morrow," was the answer. "The schedule brings these two games together."

"Who will pitch?"

"I don't know. Woods can't, Williamson is not in shape, I am afraid to put Slatridge in, and Bas...o...b..never was any good against Rockland, although he is a good man against any other team."

"You wanted me to pitch to-day," said Frank.

"Yes."

"I might not have done any better than Woods. He is a dandy, and he can monkey with Rockland when his arm is all right. I knew you ought to take him out at the beginning of the third, and I told Diamond so. I could see that his arm was keeping him working speed, and Rockland was eating speed."