Chapter 9. Sparkfair's Hit

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_ CHAPTER IX. SPARKFAIR'S HIT

Sparkfair sat down on the pitcher's plate and watched Hodge circling the bases.

"Hereafter," he observed, with a doleful grin, "I'll put my fielders over in the next county when you come to bat."

Bart's hit reminded Dale of Dick Merriwell's first appearance at Fardale. He recalled the fact that Dick had come to bat in the ninth inning, with two men out, the bases full, and three runs needed to tie the score. Merriwell managed to connect with the ball after two strikes had been called. He drove it far over Barking's head, clearing the sacks and coming home himself, thus winning the game by a single run.

That recollection was decidedly unpleasant to Spark.

"If I get to ruminating on such things, I'll spring a leak and weep real tears," he muttered, as he rose to his feet.

From the distance, Guy Featherstone shouted:

"Yah! yah! You're not so much, Sparkfair! You're pie for a real batter!"

With this parting taunt, Feather took Booby Walker's arm and led him away, both disappearing into the bathhouse.

Tommy Chuckleson was the next hitter to face Dale. "Why can't I do something like that?" exclaimed Chuck. "If I could ever hit the ball hard enough, you'd see me making a record round the bases!"

"Just set a few mice after you and you'd make a record, all right," laughed Dale, in return.

Then he proceeded to strike Tommy out in short order.

Lawrence Graves, his face as expressionless as a doormat, came up and batted a weak one into the diamond, being thrown out with ease.

The sixth inning ended, with the score tied.

Hedge returned to the pitcher's slab.

"We're going to trim you to-day, Spark," asserted Walter Shackleton, as he crouched froglike behind the bat. "There are no quitters on the team now."

"Don't alarm me--please don't!" implored Dale. "It's most unkind, Shack."

Fred Hollis was the first one up. He batted a grounder through Bubbs and reached second. Then came Brooks, who romped to first on an error by Netterby, although Hollis was held at second.

"Joseph," said Hodge, as young Joe Crowfoot stepped out, "I know your noble grandsire, and for his sake I'm not going to work you very hard to-day. I'll let you go right back to the bench in a moment."

"Mebbe so," muttered young Joe. "We see."

Then he picked out a good one and lifted a long fly into the field.

"Hold your bases! hold your bases!" shouted the coachers at Hollis and Brooks.

Bunderson, really looking something like a balloon with his round body, made a hot run for the ball and pulled it down close to the foul flag.

A moment before the ball struck in the fielder's hands both coachers shrieked:

"Run!"

Even as the ball landed in Bunderson's grasp Hollis and Brooks were off.

Abe lost a little time in turning to throw toward second. This lost time enabled Brooks to reach the sack safely, while Hollis landed on third.

Crowfoot skipped down to first, hoping his fly might not be caught, but he turned back in disappointment.

"I told you I'd let you rest, Joseph, my boy," said Bart.

"You near make bad mistake," retorted the young redskin. "You near guess wrong that time."

"I confess it," nodded Hodge. "You gave me a heart throb when you smashed the sphere."

"We need these runs, Barking!" called Sparkfair, as the next batter walked out.

"It's a deuced poor game, don't you know," said Barking. "I'm really getting sore on it, by Jove! I wish they would take up cricket. Mr. Merriwell ought to introduce some good English game into this school."

"Hello!" said Hodge; "here's a pickle from Piccadilly. Here's a blooming Britisher--in his mind. What are you going to do to me, Johnny Bull?"

Barking was actually flattered. He enjoyed being mistaken for an Englishman.

"Aw," he drawled, "it's such a blooming bother to run bases. I rawther think I'll walk, don't you know."

He did. In spite of Bart's best efforts Thad waited undisturbed and was finally passed to first on four balls.

"If I had my hat with me, I'd take it off to you, Johnny Bull," said Hodge. "You're clever--altogether too clever for us poor unsophisticated Yanks. How long have you been over?"

"How long has he been over?" sneered Sim Scrogg from third. "Why, he never saw the Atlantic Ocean. He was born inland, and he has never yet been two hundred miles away from home."

"Play ball, fellows--play ball!" cried Sparkfair. "The sacks are charged! The pillows are peopled! Only one out! Now's our time to settle this game! The new pitcher is a mark! Bump him, Bubbs!"

Little Bob Bubbs was a clever hitter, and he connected with the ball all right this time. He smashed it out on a line, and the crack of ball and bat was followed almost instantly by the smack of ball and mitt as Hodge pulled the sphere down with his left hand.

Without losing a moment to transfer the ball from the left hand to his right, Bart snapped it over to Scrogg at third, catching Hollis off the sack, and completing a breathless double play.

For an instant the regulars seemed dazed. For once in his life Sparkfair could not find appropriate words, and, silently shaking his head, he started for the pitcher's position.

"Ho! ho! ho!" rumbled Sam Higgins, as he lumbered in from first. "Just fooling with you, that's all! Just getting your courage up to take some of the swelling out of your heads!"

At bat Slick now faced Sparkfair. Oliver pulled his cap down hard on his well-oiled hair, smiled a greasy smile, and then struck out.

Carson was the next man.

"I don't believe I can hit a balloon," he muttered to Bart, ere leaving the bench. "I'm all out of practice, you know."

"You didn't appear very rusty at the start off," said Bart.

Berlin walked out, fouled the ball twice, and then lined it into left for two bags.

"Oh, yes, you're all out of practice!" laughed Bart. "You can't hit a bit, Carson!"

He was glad to see Berlin laughing on second.

"The old game's making him forget his troubles," thought Hodge. "That's the main reason why I wanted him to play."

"These back numbers seem to be onto your curves, Dale!" cried Bob Bubbs.

"Don't rub it in--please don't!" implored Sparkfair. "The way they slam me is simply awful! I did think I could pitch a little, but I'm afraid I was deceived."

He knew Scrogg's weakness, however, and, forced Sim to put up an easy infield fly, which Hollis handled.

Shackleton batted one into right field, and Carson attempted to reach home on it.

Sleepy Jake Lander was very wide awake, and he made a line throw to the plate.

Regardless of the fact that he was not in playing uniform, Carson slid. Crowfoot was there, however, and he promptly tagged Berlin. Kilgore declared it a put-out.

Hodge laughed at Carson and slapped him on the shoulder.

"These kids know how to play the game, old boy," he said. "We mustn't forget that Frank Merriwell is their instructor and coach."

Carson joined in the laugh.

"I thought I had that score recorded on the score sheet," he confessed.

In the eighth, with one out and the bases full, Brooks drove in a run.

Two men attempted to score, however, and the second runner was put out at the plate. A moment later another man was caught off his sack, making the third out.

But the regulars had the lead.

"As a pitcher I don't seem to be a howling success," laughed Hodge. "I thought they were going to make half a dozen that trip."

"We've got to get some now," said Carson. "If we don't I see our finish."

"There's another inning. We come to bat last."

"But we can't depend on winning out in the last of the ninth."

"That's right; we do need runs."

Once more Sam Higgins was up to lead off, and Bart spoke a few words of instruction in Sam's ear.

Higgins picked out an opening in the infield and drove a ball through it.

Bunderson bunted once more and was safe on Bubbs' bad throw to first.

"Look out, Spark--look out!" cried the boys. "Here comes Hodge again!"

Sparkfair used all his skill to deceive Bart, and the boy's shoots and curves were indeed enigmas. Hodge could not solve them, and a great shout went up from the boys as Dale finally struck him out.

Chuckleson lifted a foul that dropped into Shackleton's mitt.

"Two gone, Spark--two gone!" barked Bubbs. "Now you can hold 'em!"

Hodge whispered instructions to Graves. Graves walked out, held his bat on his shoulder, and stood like a post while Dale pitched. Somehow the very fact that Lawrence seemed so utterly unconcerned appeared to rattle Dale, who finally passed him to first, filling the bases.

"Too bad Slick is next," muttered Scrogg, as Oliver took his turn at bat.

Slick drove a sharp grounder at Netterby, who booted it into the diamond, and a run came in before the ball could be recovered.

Oliver was safe on first, and the sacks were still full.

The score was tied once more. Carson walked out and laced out a handsome single, which brought in two runs.

"How Featherstone would rejoice had he lingered!" muttered Sparkfair. "They're getting away with this game. I must stop it--I will!"

In spite of this determination, another error let in still another run, and Sim Scrogg reached first.

At last Sparkfair found a victim, and Shackleton fanned.

Still, to most of the boys the game seemed lost, for the second team had a lead of three runs.

"It's our last chance, fellows," said Dale gravely. "No fooling now. No sacrificing. We've got to hit the ball."

Barely had he uttered these words when an inspiration came to him. He called his players about him.

"Fellows," he said, "neither Scrogg nor Higgins are swift in handling bunts. We won't try sacrificing, but we'll try bunting, with the idea of bothering them. Don't bunt the ball where Hodge can handle it. Drop it toward first or third. Lead off, Crowfoot."

Young Joe stepped out and bunted handsomely, dropping his bat and scooting down the base line like a flash. Scrogg was seconds too late in securing the ball and sending it to Higgins. Crowfoot was safe.

Thad Barking followed with an equally successful bunt.

Hodge called Higgins and Scrogg in a bit.

"Look out for those tricks," he warned.

Bubbs glanced toward Sparkfair inquiringly. Dale nodded.

Bubbs followed with the third bunt, while Crowfoot and Barking moved up. Nevertheless, Scrogg managed to secure the ball and throw Towser out.

Netterby attempted to bunt, but popped up a little fly to Hodge and followed Bubbs to the bench.

"I rather guess it's all over," said Higgins. "The bunting game didn't work."

Bemis looked doubtful, but Sparkfair still held to his instructions. Hiram obeyed and laid down a bunt on the line toward first.

Unseen by any one, Scrogg hooked his fingers into Crowfoot's belt and held him at third. The Indian boy was angry and came near hitting Sim.

Hodge secured the ball too late to throw Bemis out, and the sacks were full once more. Crowfoot appealed to Kilgore, but the umpire had not seen Scrogg's trick and refused to penalize the second team on that account.

Sparkfair was given a hand as he walked out to the plate. Once more Dale thought of Dick Merriwell's feat on his first appearance at Fardale. The situation was nearly the same. Two men were out, the bases were full, three runs were needed to tie the score, and four to win.

"You'll have to check them, Bart," said Carson.

Hodge did his best with Sparkfair, and it began to look as if he would succeed in striking Dale out, for Spark missed two benders.

But Dale did not strike out. He finally found a ball that suited him and "found it good." It was a duplicate of Hodge's drive over center field. The regulars whooped with joy as runner after runner came galloping over the plate. They yelled like Indians as Sparkfair tore round the bases and came in from third. Four runs were secured, and once more the first team, had a lead of one tally.

"That's where you got even with me, Sparkfair!" called Hodge.

"I had to do it," laughed Dale. "You struck me out before."

With the sacks cleared, Hodge seemed invincible, for he quickly settled Lander's hash.

The game was not over, for the second team had another chance. Nevertheless, Sparkfair was at his best, and the three batters who faced him went down, one after another.

Hodge was the first to congratulate Spark.

"You're a good man in an emergency, and such men win games," he said.

"Thanks," smiled Dale. "Don't mind my blushes. I simply love to blush." _

Read next: Chapter 10. A Moonlight Meeting

Read previous: Chapter 8. The Substitutes

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