The Lucky Seventh Part 25

I just wish he'd lammed you in the ribs the way he did me! Good of it!"

And Fudge, still muttering, wandered disgustedly out to center field, one hand pressed to his side.

The seventh inning pa.s.sed uneventfully. Tom had small difficulty with the last three men on the Point batting-list, and Mason disposed of Tom Haley and Harry Bryan with five b.a.l.l.s apiece, and caused Will Scott to pop up a foul to first baseman. So the eighth inning started and d.i.c.k began to breathe easier, and the Clearfield sympathizers were jubilant.

After all, three runs was a good lead, and even if the Point got to batting Tom in the next two innings, surely Clearfield could stop them short of three tallies. Thus argued d.i.c.k, and said as much to Harold, who, to-day, at least, was divided in his sympathies. Harold, having predicted great things of Mason, was a bit disgruntled with that youth, and expressed the wish once that Clearfield would wallop him out of the box. But when d.i.c.k voiced his belief that the game was pretty safe Harold took exception.

"You wait," he said darkly. "Here comes Loring up. He hasn't done anything yet, and he's just bound to. And if he gets on Gil Chase will send him home. You wait!"

Loring Townsend let two b.a.l.l.s go by, failed to size up the third delivery as a strike, and swung unsuccessfully at the next. With the score two and two, Tom sped a straight one over and Loring met it with his bat and set out for first. He didn't run very fast, though, for the hit was a weak one and was bounding straight at Will Scott at third. But Will made a mess of that play. He got the ball, dropped it, found it again and threw hurriedly across the diamond. Gordon leaped into the air, just managed to tip the ball with his fingers, and then dashed off on a chase for it as it rolled toward the fence. When the shouting had died away, Loring was on second, Al Jensen was swinging his bat eagerly and impatiently, and Harold had dropped his score-book between his feet and didn't know it!

That was a disastrous inning for Clearfield. Tom managed to strike out Jensen after that player had knocked six fouls into various parts of the field, and managed, too, to hold Loring on second. But when Gil Chase got the signal from first and trickled the ball into the pitcher's box while Loring sped to third, Tom, with plenty of time to make the out at first, tossed the ball six feet over Gordon's head and Loring slid home with the first run for the Point, while Chase got to second.

Then Tom had his troubles. His misplay had taken his nerve, and for a while he went thoroughly to pieces. Eight batsmen faced him in that inning, and four hits, for a total of six bases, and five runs were made off him before he finally managed to strike out Mason. When that inning was over the game had a different complexion. Instead of being three runs ahead, with the prospect of winning a shut-out, Clearfield was two tallies behind, and defeat stared her in the face.

The home team returned determinedly to the fray, but Mason was impregnable. In the last of the eighth not a man saw first and only four players faced him. In the first of the ninth, Rutter's Point again started things with a whoop when Caspar Billings, first up, singled into left field, took second on Townsend's sacrifice, and was advanced to third when Jensen hit past Will Scott. Then Jensen was caught off first and House flied out to Sh.o.r.es.

I would like to tell how Clearfield went to bat in the last half of that final inning and pounded Mason for enough hits to win the game. But as this isn't one of Fudge's romances I can't do anything of the sort. As a matter of regrettable fact, Clearfield stood up to the plate and watched Mason's "floaters" waft past them and listened to the fateful voice of the umpire calling strikes. Mason ended the day in a blaze of glory, striking out three men in order and sending his team off the field victors by the score of 5 to 3.

Harold Townsend, slapping his score-book shut, grinned at d.i.c.k as the last man went out. "What did I tell you?" he asked gleefully. "Say, you fellows can't play ball for shucks, Lovering!"

d.i.c.k smiled imperturbably. He had the ability to smile in the face of disaster, had d.i.c.k.

"We'll try you again some day," he answered. "Good-bye, Harold. See you Monday."

"I may not be home," replied Harold airily.

But when d.i.c.k was accompanying his team-mates toward the dressing-room a minute or two later, he felt a hand on his arm and looked around to find that Harold had followed him.

"Say, Lovering, I-I'm sorry your team got beaten. And thanks for showing me about scoring, you know."

CHAPTER XVII

HAROLD MAKES A PROMISE

The Clearfield _Reporter_ was quite enthusiastic over the game in its Monday's issue. There had been, it declared, for some time a demand for a baseball team to represent the city, a demand which had now been satisfied in the recent formation of the club which had given such a good account of itself on Sat.u.r.day. It was to be hoped that the organization would prosper and receive the support of the many lovers of clean sport residing in the town. The _Reporter_ gave the game almost play by play, indulging in a wealth of baseball slang and metaphor worthy of a metropolitan journal. It was quite evident that the writer had thoroughly enjoyed his task. He dealt out praise lavishly and was especially complimentary to the Rutter's Point pitcher, who, it seemed, had struck out ten batsmen besides fielding his position perfectly.

Incidentally the _Reporter_ provided the information that the Clearfield players had failed to obtain.

"Melville Mason," said the paper, "gives every promise of becoming a top-notch twirler, and there is no doubt a berth awaiting him in one of the big league teams if he wants it. He has been playing ball for six years, and last season was second-choice pitcher on the Erskine College team. He is nineteen years of age. The Rutter's Point team is to be congratulated on securing the services of so accomplished a player. We are a.s.sured by Captain Billings that Mr. Mason receives no salary."

("Bet you he's having his expenses paid, though," commented Gordon, when he and d.i.c.k read the _Reporter_ that morning.) "We trust," concluded the _Reporter_, "that a third and determining game will be arranged between Sat.u.r.day's adversaries and that it will be played on the local grounds, where, doubtless, a large audience will be on hand to enjoy it."

"That isn't a bad idea," said Lanny. "We took in forty-three dollars Sat.u.r.day. I dare say we could do even better the next time. And I don't believe but what the Pointers would be willing to play here if they got their twenty-five per cent. again."

"We might offer them a third of the receipts," suggested Gordon.

d.i.c.k looked puzzled. "You fellows are frightfully keen on the financial end of it, seems to me," he said. "What's the idea, Lanny? What are we going to do with the money we get, anyway? We can't buy b.a.l.l.s with all of it."

"Well, there's no harm in having it," replied Lanny evasively. "You never know when you'll need money."

"I know when I need it," said d.i.c.k grimly. "That's most of the time."

"It wouldn't be a bad scheme to sound Billings," said Gordon. "You might tell him we'd like to play a deciding game, and that-er-that as Clearfield is interested in the series it would perhaps be best to play here. If Billings kicked, you could offer him a third. I dare say we'd get a couple of hundred people easily for the next game, and that would give the Point something like seventeen dollars."

"I don't believe they're as much on the make as you Shylocks," objected d.i.c.k. "Still, I'll talk it over with him some day. Perhaps, though, it would be better to wait and see if they won't propose the game themselves. Then we'd be in a better position to make conditions."

"Isn't he the nifty old diplomat?" asked Lanny admiringly.

"A regular fox," agreed Gordon. "Work it your own way, d.i.c.k."

"We can't play them for about three weeks, anyway," said d.i.c.k. "We're filled up with games until the third of September. I got a letter from Tyson over in Springdale this morning. He says they'll play us there a week from next Sat.u.r.day if we'll come over. What do you say?"

"I say yes, by all means," replied Gordon, with enthusiasm. "And I guess we're all eager to have another try at those chaps after what they did to us in June."

"Well, it won't be quite the same team, Tyson says, and they're calling themselves the Independents."

"We'll call them down," laughed Lanny. "We play Logan the day after to-morrow, don't we?"

"Yes, and that reminds me that I must see to getting notices printed and sent around. I wish you'd do that, Gordon. I've got to go out to the Point in half an hour. I'll write out the copy and all you'll have to do is to take it down to the printers. They'll strike them right off and distribute them for us this afternoon."

"All right. I'll go there first thing. I'm going to see Morris for a few minutes this morning. Any little message I can take from you, d.i.c.k?"

"Message? No, not that I know of. Tell him I hope he will hurry up and get well again."

"Of course, but-ah!-is there any other member of the family--"

"Oh, you run away!" laughed d.i.c.k.

If d.i.c.k expected to find a chastened and much reformed pupil at the Point that Monday morning, he was doomed to disappointment. He gathered from a remark that the boy let fall that Mrs. Townsend had kept her promise to speak to him, but d.i.c.k doubted if she had accomplished much.

And yet there was improvement visible. Harold had actually mastered two of the four lessons and d.i.c.k gathered some encouragement.

"I guess we won't go on with this," he said toward the end of the period. "You haven't studied it, Harold. We'll take it over to-morrow.

How did you like the game Sat.u.r.day?"

"Oh, pretty well! You fellows going to play us again?"

"Maybe, some day. We play Logan Wednesday. Do you care to come over and see it? We might have another lesson in scoring."

"I guess so. We're going to play a team from Bay Harbor on Sat.u.r.day.

Say, Loring says if I'll learn to score, I can be official scorer for the team. I guess I'll do it."

"Fine! Then you come over Wednesday, and we'll try it again. You did very well the other day."

"Did I really? Gee, but there's a lot to put down, isn't there? Caspar's got six games arranged for the team. Loring says if I'm scorer they'll take me with them when they go away to play."

That was really no news to d.i.c.k, since it was at his suggestion that Loring had made the offer. But he pretended to be surprised and interested, and said all he could to encourage Harold to learn to score.

And Harold became so enthusiastic that he walked over to the trolley car with d.i.c.k, talking volubly all the way.