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The Grammar School Boys in Summer Athletics, a novel by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 12. The North Grammar Captain Grilled |
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_ CHAPTER XII. THE NORTH GRAMMAR CAPTAIN GRILLED Nor was Teall long in finding his opportunity to be revenged. On the following Tuesday, immediately after school, the North and South Grammar nines met on the field. It was an important meeting, for, under the rules governing the Gridley Grammar League, whichever of these two teams lost, having been twice defeated, was to retire vanquished; the victor in this game was to meet the Central Grammar to contest for the championship. On the toss Captain Ted Teall won, and elected that his side go to bat forthwith. The instant that Ted stepped to the plate a score of North Grammar fans yelled: "Bang!" From another group of Norths came: "Ow-ow-ow!" This was followed by some fantastic jumping. "Huh! Those fellows don't show much brains!" uttered Teall wearily. "They have to steal a josh from the Centrals." It did not annoy Ted to-day. He had expected this greeting, and had steeled himself against it. Dick & Co., with a lot of other fellows from Central Grammar, looked on in amusement. "It's a pity one of Hi's fellows hasn't ingenuity enough to work up a new 'gag,'" Tom remarked dryly. "They'll never rattle Teall again with a 'bang,'" smiled Prescott. When the Souths went to grass, however, and the Norths took to the benches, all was in readiness for Hi, who came forth third on the batting list. The first two men had been struck out. "Come on in!" yelled a dozen tormentors from South Grammar onlookers. "The water's fine!" In spite of himself Hi frowned. He had been expecting something, but had hoped that the events of the preceding Saturday afternoon would be left out. Hi made a swing for the ball, and missed. "Who's seen my duds?" went up a mighty shout. "Confound the hoodlums!" hissed Martin between his teeth. As mascot, the Souths had brought along a small colored boy, who attended to a pail of lemonade for the refreshment of Ted's players. Ere the ball came over the plate a second time this mascot was seen running close to the foul lines. Over one arm he carried jacket and trousers; in the other hand he bore a pair of shoes and of socks. That the clothing was patched and the shoes looked fit only for a tramp's use did not disguise the meaning of the scene from any beholder, for the news of that Saturday afternoon had traveled through the school world of Gridley. "Cheer up, suh!" shrieked the colored boy shrilly. "I'se bringing yo' duds!" Then the ball came from the box, but Hi was demoralized by the roar of laughter that swept over the field. A moment later the rather haughty captain of the North Grammar nine had been struck out and retired. His face was red, his eyes flashing. "Teall, we might expect something rowdyish from your crowd of muckers," declared Martin scornfully, as the sides changed. "If I were you, Martin, I wouldn't do much talking to-day," grinned Ted. "It's bad for the nerves." A half a dozen times thereafter the colored boy was seen scurrying with "the duds." He took good care, however, to keep away from the foul lines, and so did not come under the orders of the umpire. Whenever the mascot appeared with his burden he raised a laugh. Hi could not steel himself against a combination of anger and hurt pride. Some of the North Grammar girls in whose eyes he was anxious to stand well were among those who could not help laughing at the ridiculous antics of the colored lad. Toward the close of the first half of the third inning Teall again came to bat. There were no men out in this inning, and two men were on bases. "Now we'll see how you will stand a little jogging," muttered Hi under his breath as he crossed his hands in signal to some of the North Grammar fans. Just as Ted picked up his bat a dozen boys squeaked: "What time is it?" This was followed by: "Who stole my watch?" Another lot of North tormentors---those who had them---displayed time pieces. "That's almost as bad as a stale one," Ted told himself scornfully. Just then the ball came just where Teall wanted it. Crack! Ted hit it a resounding blow, dropped his bat and started to run. Amid a din of yells one of the Souths came in, another reached third and Ted himself rested safely at second base. In that inning the Souths piled up five runs. Thereafter the game went badly for the North Grammars, for most of the players lost their nerve. Hi, himself, proved unworthy to be captain, he had so little head left for the game. The contest ended with a score of nine to two in favor of the South Grammars. "That will be about all for the Norths," remarked Ted, with a cheerful grin, as be met Hi Martin at the close of the game. "Your nine doesn't play any more, I believe." "I'm glad we don't," choked Hi. "There's no satisfaction being in a league in which the other teams are made up of rowdies." "It is tough," mocked Ted. "Especially when the rowdies are the only fellows who know how to play ball." Hi stalked away in moody, but dignified silence. Yet, though he could ignore the players and sympathizers of other nines, it was not so easy to get away from the grilling of his own schoolmates. "Huh!" remarked one North boy. "You told us, Martin, that you'd prove to us the benefit of having a real captain for a nine. Why didn't you?" "Martin, you're all wind," growled another keenly disappointed North. "You talked a lot about what you'd do with the nine---and what have you done? Left us the boobies of the league. We're the winners of the leather medal." "Why didn't you play yourself, then?" snarled Hi. "I wish I had. But we Norths were fooled by the talk you gave us about how baseball really ought to be played and managed. You're the school's mascot, you are, Hi Martin. Not!" In the meantime Dick Prescott was being surrounded by anxious Central Grammar boys. "Dick," said one of them, while others listened eagerly, "you beat the Norths. But you didn't give them any such drubbing as the Souths did to-day. Are they a better nine than ours?" "No," Prescott answered promptly. "Yet they whipped the Norths worse than we did. Can we down the Souths?" "Yes," nodded Prescott. "Why can we?" "For the simplest reason in the world, Tolman. We've got to. Isn't that a fine reason?" "It sounds fine," remarked another boy doubtfully. "But can you whip another crowd just because you want to?" "If you want to badly enough," Dick smiled. "Hm! I'll be surer about that when I see it done." "It'll happen next Friday afternoon, if rain doesn't call the game," Prescott promised. "What do you say to that, Darrin?" demanded another Central boy. "Just what Dick said." "What's your word, Tom!" "You heard what our captain said," Reade laughed. "I always follow orders. If Dick Prescott tells me to pile up seven runs against the Souths I'm going to do it." "I hope you do," murmured another boy. "Yet it seems against us---after the way we saw the Souths play to-day." "Or rather," added Dick quietly, "the way the North Grammars didn't play. They'd have put up a lot better game if their captain hadn't lost his nerve and his head." As the Central Grammar boys left, most of them in one crowd, there was a rather general feeling that Dick was just a bit too confident. Or, was he simply "putting it on," in order to bolster up the courage of his players? Dick Prescott, at least, was qualified to know what he really expected. He really was confident of victory in the game that should decide the league championship. "If you feel that you can't be beaten, and won't be beaten, but that you've got to win and are going to win, then that's more than half the points of a game won in advance," he told his chums. "Fellows, in baseball or anything else, we won't say die, either now or at any later time in life. We'll make it our rule to ride right over anything that gets in our way. That way we can't know defeat." "Unless, finally, we ride to our deaths," laughed Tom. "What of it?" challenged Dick. "That wouldn't be defeat. The man who rides to death in the search for victory has won. He has carried the winning spirit with him to the very finish. Or else the history we've been studying at school is all a mess of lies." "There's a lot in that idea," nodded Dave thoughtfully. "There's more in it every time that you think of it," Dick contended. Thus Dick was starting, in Dick & Co., the never-give-up spirit which made them almost invincible later as High School boys. Wednesday and Thursday were days filled with eagerness for the Central Grammar boys. The members of the baseball squad were not by any means the only ones on tenterhooks. Every boy in the upper grades of the school was waiting impatiently to learn who would be the winners of the championship. Somewhat to the astonishment of the Central Grammar boys Captain Dick, on Wednesday afternoon, gave his team only a brief half hour of diamond practice. Thursday afternoon they didn't play at all. Instead, the nine and its subs. went off on a tramp through the woods. "What we want to-morrow above all," Dick explained, as he marshaled his forces, "is steady nerves. There's nothing like a good walk in the cool and shady spots for tuning up a schoolboy's nerves for an ordeal. A walk is good whether you're facing an exam. or a championship game." "May the rest of us go with you!" called one of the Central boys outside the squad. "We can't stop you," Dick replied, "but we'd rather you let the ball squad go by itself." "All right, then," cried three or four. The fourteen of the squad marched away, unhampered by any followers. Once outside the town and halted under a grove of trees, Dick turned to his teammates. "Fellows," he said quietly, "I believe some of you have been anxious to know what the man on the clubhouse steps said." "It's coming, at last!" gasped Tom Reade. "Well, let us hear what the man on the clubhouse steps said. It must be one of the choice pieces of wisdom of all the ages." "It is," Dick replied quietly. "Then let us hear shouted Dave. "Not now," Prescott answered, shaking his head solemnly. "But, fellows, you win to-morrow's game and you shall all hear just what the man on the clubhouse steps said." "Win?" retorted Tom Reade. "Dick Prescott, with a bribe like that before us, we're bound to win! We couldn't do anything else." Then they went further into the woods. Dick had brought his players here in search of peace, quiet and nerve rest. Had he had even one prophetic glimpse of what was ahead of some of them that afternoon it would have been far better to have remained in town. _ |
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