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Frank Merriwell's Son; or, A Chip Off the Old Block, a fiction by Burt L. Standish |
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Chapter 40. A Determined Front |
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_ CHAPTER XL. A DETERMINED FRONT Frank drove the ball out on a line and reached second base by sharp running. "Vale! vale! vale!" spluttered Dunnerwurst, as he danced round like a huge fat toad. "Dot peen too pad! It vos an awful surprise dot der ball dit not make a home run vor him!" "Naow we're started, gol ding it!" shouted Gallup excitedly, as he pranced out to coach. "Let's keep her a-goin', fellers!" Ephraim was in a wildly excited condition. He felt himself tingling and shaking all over. At one moment he was hot and burning, and the next moment he was cold and shivering. Buck Badger looked dangerous to Bender. The solid, stocky, square-shouldered Westerner seemed like a man who would hit the ball a terrible crack if he hit it at all. In the stand, sitting amid the ladies of Merriwell's house party, was Winnie Badger, whose eyes gleamed with pride as she watched her husband. "I hope Buck will get a hit," she murmured. "He used to hit well." "Oo, eet ees the strange game!" exclaimed Teresa Gallup. "What ees eet Ephraim ees doing now? Does he have to hollaire so loud?" "He's a coach," explained Elsie. "A coach?" questioned Teresa. "Why, the coach ees sometheeng for a horse to pull. Ees Ephraim sometheeng for a horse to pull?" "He isn't just that sort of a coach," laughed Inza. "He's out there to give Frank instructions about running bases." "Oo!" murmured Teresa. "Does he know more about the way bases to run than Frank knows?" "Perhaps not," smiled Inza. "But you see the runner can't keep watch of the ball and the players while he's running. He can't tell just what every one is doing if he has to pay attention to himself. A coach can tell him what to do." Juanita Garcia had not spoken since the beginning of the game, but now she ventured to ask: "What ees eet Senyor Carkaire he play? He keep saying: 'One ball! One strike! Two ball! Two strike!' but he do nothing else." "He's the umpire. He is the judge who gives the decisions." "Oo!" breathed Juanita. "He ees the judge! He ees the magistrate! Then he must know everytheeng about the game. He must know more than every one else. Eet ees splendeed! I am so proud of Senyor Carkaire!" Suddenly Winnie Badger clapped her hands, uttered a cry of delight, and started up. Buck had hit the ball. A moment later Winnie's joy turned to dismay, for, with a leap, O'Day thrust out his gloved left hand and caught Badger's liner. It was the third put-out, and Merry was left on second. "That's playing ball!" roared the man with the broken nose. "Now get after Frank Merriwell, and send him to the stable! Put the blanket on him! Polish him off!" The Rovers trotted in, while the home team took the field. Casper Silence lighted a fresh cigarette as the players in yellow and black settled down on the bench. "Beyond question you faced the four leading batters of that team, Bender," said the proprietor of the visitors. "You know now what Merriwell and Badger can hit. If O'Day had not made a great catch, Merriwell would have scored." "Oh, I'll get onto their style of hitting, all right," nodded Bender. "Neither of those chaps will touch me next time." Bearover was speaking to McCann. "We want to make some runs in this inning, Mike," he said. "If we can roll up a few tallies, it ought to discourage the youngsters. It's not easy to bluff them, but we may be able to get their tails down, and an uphill game is a hard game for any team to play. Start us off, McCann." The captain of the visitors walked out and hit the first ball pitched to him, although it was fully six inches higher than his shoulders. The hit was a sharp drive into the field, and Carson took it on the first bound and promptly sent it to Badger, which held McCann at first. Frank believed Mertez would try to bunt, and he kept the ball high. Mertez fouled the first one, and a strike was called. McCann was forced to return to first after getting a big start toward second. Merry fancied he saw a signal exchanged between the batter and the base runner. Something told him McCann would try to steal. Nevertheless, Frank appeared careless in permitting the captain of the Rovers to get a lead off first. When he pitched, however, Merry whistled the ball over high and wide so that it came into Bart's hands in such a manner that Hodge was in perfect position to throw to second. McCann was scooting down the line. Bart threw to second. Badger covered the sack, took the ball and tagged McCann as the runner was sliding. It was a close play, but Buck caught McCann as the latter's hand was fully six inches from the bag. "Out at second!" declared Carker. There was a hush as the runner scrambled to his feet. "What?" roared McCann, rushing at Carker and seizing him in a fury. "Did you call me out, you chump? What do you mean?" He swung Greg round roughly. Frank promptly reached for the back of McCann's neck. His fingers closed there, and he sent the fellow reeling to one side. "Hold on, Carker," he said, as Greg started to speak. He realized it was the umpire's intention to put McCann out of the game. There were indications that the crowd of toughs contemplated rushing onto the field. Bill Hunker sprang in front of those men and roared: "I'll put the irons on the first son of a gun who ducks under that rope!" That stopped them. McCann was livid with fury. It seemed that he meant to spring at Merriwell, who stood calmly facing him. "Hold on, you!" said Frank, shaking a finger at the captain of the Rovers. "I want to say just one word, and then you may come at me if you feel like it. I kept the umpire from putting you out of the game. You were out at second, and you know it. If you lift your hand against Carker during the remainder of this game or make any insulting talk to him, I'll back him up if he orders you off the field. Perhaps your team can get along without you. Perhaps it will be better off without you. Take the matter into consideration." On the temporary bleachers a crowd of Farnham Hall lads, led by Dale Sparkfair, gave a cheer for Merry. As this cheer died away Uncle Eb Small rose in the stand, waved his crooked cane, and shrilly cried: "That's right, Frank--that's jest right! We're here to see a game of baseball and not a fight! All the same, if them fellers start a row, we'll back you up to the finish! We know you're a gentleman on the baseball field and off it. You've gut the sympathy of every decent man here." "That's right! that's right!" came from all sides of the field. Basil Bearover stepped out from the bench and called McCann's attention. "Play ball, Mike," he said. "We can win, anyhow. Let the umpire alone." Muttering to himself, the captain of the Rovers walked in from the field. Things simmered down at once. At last the visiting players and the sympathizing crowd of thugs realized that the sentiment of the crowd would not tolerate such conduct as McCann's. The Merries were not frightened by it, and Frank had prepared to quell any outbreak of ruffianism. Toby Mertez tried hard for a hit, fouling the ball a number of times. Finally he put up a high foul, which Hodge gathered in. Grifford was regarded as one of the heaviest and surest hitters among the visitors. Nevertheless, to his astonishment, he missed the first two balls pitched by Frank, although both crossed the pan. Two wide ones followed, and then Hodge called for the double shoot. Merry threw his great curve for the first time that day, and again Grifford missed. "Three strikes--you're out!" rang forth Carker's decision. The first inning was over. _ |
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