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The Grammar School Boys in Summer Athletics, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 4. The Story Of The Uniforms |
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_ CHAPTER IV. THE STORY OF THE UNIFORMS "Great Scott!" gasped Hi Martin, in sheer dismay, his gaze fixed on the approaching Centrals. "Where in the mischief did they get those uniforms?" demanded Tom Percival, of the North Grammars, his mouth agape. "Well, they have 'em, anyway," added Bill Rodgers. "And they certainly look more than fine, don't they?" "The uniforms are made of cheap stuff, I'll wager," muttered Hi hoarsely. There was a choke in his throat over seeing his own nine so badly eclipsed in appearance by the despised Central Grammars. Not less astonished were the Central Grammar boy spectators themselves. Not one, outside of the baseball squad, had known that any uniforms were to be worn on the field. "Huh!" remarked Ted Teall, captain of the South Grammars, to one of his lieutenants. "We are the only school nine in town now without a uniform. When we get on the field to play we'll look like a lot of rag-pickers, won't we?" "I know where they got 'em," choked Hi at last. "Their principal, Old Dut Jones, wouldn't see his boys look too badly compared with us, so he bought 'em as good uniforms as he could afford. It's a shame. That's what it is." If Captain Dick and his baseball players walked rather proudly onto the field, it may have been partly due to the fact that they now knew that their uniforms were anything but "cheap." In point of fact, their uniforms had cost more than twice as much as those worn by Hi Martin's players. "How did they get such uniforms?" That was the question that passed from lip to lip. The answer was very simple, though as yet none of the onlookers knew what it was. Not until one minute past four did the Central Grammar players know anything about the uniforms. Old Dut had dismissed the rest of the school, detaining Dick's players. "Young men, we shall now hasten up to Exhibition Hall," announced the principal. He marched them up there, where they found the smiling Mr. Brown, backed by an assistant. Several boxes, opened, lay upon the floor. "Now, young men," called Mr. Brown jovially, "let us see how quickly you can take your baseball uniforms and get into them." "But what-----" began Dick, then paused in absolute bewilderment. "It's all right," Mr. Brown cheerily assured the dazed boys. "The uniforms are all paid for---won't cost you a cent." "But you---you told us," protested Captain Dick Prescott, "that you were collecting measurements of members of schoolboys' baseball clubs." "Well, that's the truth," protested Brown, with a mock air of injured innocence. "I'm a traveling salesman for the Haynes Sporting Goods Company, one of the biggest baseball outfitting companies in this part of the country. It's my business to travel and take orders." "But we didn't give you any orders," gasped Dave. "Some one did," laughed Mr. Brown. "Who did?" blurted Tom Reade. "Did you, Mr. Jones?" cried Dick. "Not I," laughed the principal. "But I'll tell you, boys, who did. Prescott, you remember Mr. Winthrop, who is acting for Colonel Garwood in trying to find the latter's son? Amos Garwood hasn't yet been found, but Mr. Winthrop is satisfied that they are close at his heels, and that they will soon find him. Colonel Garwood is a very wealthy old man, and very fond of his missing son. Mr. Winthrop inquired how he could best serve the boys who had brought him the first word. Some one, I believe it was Len Spencer, the 'Blade' reporter, told about your not having uniforms. Mr. Winthrop wired the Haynes Company, placing an order for the best of uniforms, provided they could be finished to be delivered this afternoon. And here they are." "When do you youngsters play?" called out Brown laughingly. "To-day or some other day?" "I would recommend you to make good time," Old Dut urged. "You don't want to start the season by being late, do you. Besides the North Grammar boys might then claim the game by default." That was enough to set Dick Prescott and his dazed comrades at work in earnest. The uniforms were of blue, and of fine texture. Even baseball shoes had been provided. The stockings were blue. Then came the trousers. The blue jersey shirts bore proudly in front two golden letters each, "C.G." This inscription stood, of course, for "Central Grammar." Then there were coats of blue, to slip on over the jersey shirts; caps of blue and belts of blue, the latter edged with golden yellow to match the shirt initials. Besides there were a catcher's mask, gloves for the different field players, half a dozen baseballs and an even dozen of bats. "Finish dressing as quickly as you can," urged Old Dut. "Your time is slipping away." At last they were ready. Carrying masks, bats, gloves, they fell in by twos, Principal Jones marching them from the building, along the street and into the field where their arrival had created such a furor. Yet, excited as he was, Dick had not forgotten to ask both Mr. Brown and Old Dut not to fail to express their deepest thanks to Mr. Winthrop and to Colonel Garwood. Ben Tozier, of the High School baseball nine, had been accepted as umpire for the day. He now came forward to meet Captain Dick's company. "My, but you youngsters look about the finest ever," announced Ben. "I hope you can play as well as you look. Captain Prescott, do you claim any time for practice?" "Not if it's time to begin playing," Dick answered. "Yes; it is. I'll call Martin, and you two will attend me for the pitch of the coin." "Wait a moment, please," called Hi, from across the field. "What's the matter?" shouted a spectator. "The North Grammars want to go home and change their uniforms," shouted another onlooker. There was a great laugh at this, which caused Hi Martin to color and look belligerent. He came stalking across the field. "Ladies and gentlemen," shouted Ted Teall, affecting the manner of an announcer, "I beg to state that the game about to begin will be between two famous nines, known as the Gentlemen and the Chromos." At this there was more laughter, while Hi Martin shook with rage. Looking at the bright red so prominent in the North Grammar uniforms, there could be no doubt as to which nine had been dubbed the "Chromos." "Mr. Umpire," called Hi angrily, "have you power to preserve order here to-day?" "I'll do my best," agreed Tozier. "But this is an open field that any one may enter, and there are no police here." "Play ball, you red-heads!" jeered a boy, referring to the bright red caps of the North Grammars. "Don't holler for the police until you find out whether you can stand up to the Centrals." "Now, let us stop all guying of the players and all other nonsense," called Tozier firmly, as he held up his right hand. "Remember that we are here to see a game and not to listen to cheap wit." That held the unruly ones back for a few moments. Tozier drew a coin from one of his pockets, exhibited it to the captains, and asked: "Who will call the toss?" "Martin may," nodded Captain Dick. "Ready, then." Ben Tozier sent the coin spinning skyward. When it turned to fall Hi called out: "Tails." "Heads win," declared Umpire Tozier. "Captain Martin, have you any choice?" inquired Prescott politely. "I didn't win the toss," Hi returned sulkily. "But we'll give you your choice if you have any," Dick insisted. "We'd rather go to bat," Hi observed. "Then, Mr. Umpire," continued Dick, turning to Tozier, "the Centrals choose the field." "Get to your places," nodded Ben. "Martin at bat; Percival on deck," called the score-keeper. Dick ran down to the pitcher's box, while Greg, slipping on mask and glove, took up his position behind the plate. Tozier carelessly broke the seal on the package enclosing a ball, inspected it, and dropped it into Dick's hands. Dick threw an overshoot to Greg, who mitted it neatly. But Ted Teall could not let the occasion go by without some nonsense. "Whack!" shouted Teall. "Woof! Did you hear it strike? And it hurt, too. Who has the arnica bottle?" There was laughter, but Dick ignored it, sending in a neat drive over the plate. Greg caught it and sent the ball back. As it once more reached Dick's hand Umpire Tozier shouted: "Ready! Play ball!" Greg Holmes signaled what he wanted. Dick gave the ball a twist, and the game was on. _ |
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