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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 41. The Hour And The Man |
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_ CHAPTER XLI. THE HOUR AND THE MAN Casper Silence succeeded in repressing his anxiety and disappointment as inning after inning passed and neither side secured a run. The Rovers had fancied ere beginning the game that it would be an easy thing to down Merriwell's team. They had believed Frank's reputation as a pitcher to be exaggerated. They were confident of their batting ability, but gradually that confidence weakened before the wonderful boxwork of Merriwell, who seemed in his best form. Fortunately most of the decisions against the visitors were not close, and there were few excuses for kicks had McCann and the men been inclined to keep it up. Ephraim Gallup could not throw off his feeling of anxiety and nervousness, and he was thankful as the innings passed and no opportunity came for him to display what he could do in the field. At bat he was a failure. In past days Gallup had batted well, but to-day Merriwell's wisdom in placing him far down on the batting order became apparent as the Vermonter continued to strike out. In the sixth inning Ephraim had a chance to drive in a run, for, with two men gone, the Merries pushed a runner round to third. Again Ephraim struck out. "You vos a peach uf a hitter--I don'd pelief!" sneered Dunnerwurst. "Gol dinged if I could hit a haouse!" muttered Gallup. "I'm jest abaout the rottenest thing that ever swung a bat! I wish I was to hum on the farm!" In the last of the seventh the Rovers had their opportunity. With one man out, they landed a runner on the third corner. The next hitter succeeded in lifting a short fly to center field. Gallup made a wonderful run for the ball, but muffed it, although it struck fairly in his hands. As Ephraim dropped the ball the runner at third started for the plate. Now Gallup had a reputation as a thrower. Many a time from deep center he had cut off a man at the plate. With remarkable quickness for one who seemed so awkward he caught up the ball and lined it to Hodge. Had Ephraim taken more time it would have been better for him. His anxiety caused him to throw with too much haste, and, as a result, the ball passed fully ten feet over Bart's head. The runner scored. Before Hodge could recover the ball and return it to the diamond the man who had hit it was safe on third. Basil Bearover slapped Casper Silence on the shoulder. "We've got them now!" he chuckled. "They'll never get a run off Bender! The game is ours! You've won that ten thousand!" "It looks that way," replied Silence, as he produced a fresh cigarette and lighted it. "It's a pretty good thing for me that we have got them. I counted on winning this game a great deal easier than this. Had we lost, I'd been practically busted. I'm afraid the Rovers would have been compelled to disband." Imagine the feelings of Gallup. After making that throw Ephraim walked round and round in a circle for at least half a dozen times. "That's abaout the most expensive gol-darned fool thing I ever done!" he mumbled to himself. "Waal, by gum, I deserve it! Any man that's fool enough to bet every dollar he's gut in the world on a baseball game oughter lose. I don't keer a rap for myself, but Frank was right in saying I had no business to throw away money that my wife and kid has a claim on. I guess this will teach me a lesson. I won't be able to look Teresa in the face arter this game is over." He was aroused by Merry's voice calling him to take his position and play ball. "Better put a baby in my place, Frank." he said dolefully. "Any blamed fool could do better'n I'm doing to-day. I guess I've lost the game." "The game isn't over yet," said Frank grimly. "We'll play it out." The Rovers secured no more runs in that inning. Nevertheless, Bender had no difficulty in blanking the Merries in the first of the eighth. In the last of the eighth just three men faced Merriwell. He struck them all out. "It's all over!" cried Mike McCann, with a grin, as the Rovers again took the field. "This finishes it!" Frank was the first man up. In spite of Bender's skill Merriwell cracked out a clean single. Badger followed with a bunt that advanced Merry to second. Buck was thrown out at first. Diamond tried hard for a hit, with Frank leading off second ready to do his best to score. Jack finally drove a grounder into the hands of McCann, who whistled it over for a put-out. "Two gone!" shouted the captain of the Rovers. "Only one more to git, Bender, me boy!" A few of the disappointed spectators began to leave the field. The first two balls pitched by Bender were strikes, Browning touching neither of them. Then the pitcher tried some wide ones on the big first baseman of the Merries. Bruce had a good eye, and he let the wide ones pass. Two balls were called. Bender attempted to curve one over, but missed the plate by fully six inches. "Three balls!" came from Carker. "Smash it if he puts one over!" called Frank. Browning gripped his bat and stood ready. The crowd was silent and breathless. Bender tried to put a speedy ball across Bruce's shoulders, but it was far too high. "Four balls--take your base!" cried Carker. "The best thing you could have done, Mitt," laughed McCann. "Here comes the tall jay, and he never made a hit in his life." Ephraim Gallup's hands were trembling as he picked up a bat and walked out. His legs were weak, and there was a mist before his eyes. "I'll never touch it!" he whispered to himself. "There's too much depending on it; I can't do it!" As if from a great distance he seemed to hear Frank Merriwell crying: "Just a little single, Ephraim! You never failed in a pinch in all your life! You can't fail now!" Those words seemed to brush the mist from Gallup's eyes, and something like confidence crept back into his heavy heart. Nevertheless he merely fouled Bender's first shoot. "One strike!" The next ball was far too high, but Gallup swung at it and missed. "Two strikes!" "All over! all over!" whooped McCann. The spectators in the stand and on the bleachers were standing. "I knowed I couldn't do it!" thought Gallup. Once more he heard Frank calling to him. "For Teresa and the baby!" cried Merriwell. "Lace it out, Gallup! Get against it!" For Teresa and the baby! Those words rang through Ephraim's brain. Was it possible he was going to prove himself a miserable failure under such circumstances? With only himself to consider he might fail, but he had believed himself capable of great things for the sake of Teresa and the baby. He was capable of great things! He knew it now, and suddenly his hands were steady as iron. There was not the slightest quiver of his nerves. His eyes were clear, and his face wore a look of confidence as he watched Bender prepare to deliver the ball. The pitcher started the ball wide, but, with a sudden break it took an inshoot across the plate. Gallup knew he was going to hit the ball when he swung at it. He hit it fairly and squarely with all the strength and skill that he possessed. It brought a wild roar from the crowd as the ball went sailing out on a line about fifteen feet from the ground. Apparently Grifford would have little trouble in catching the ball. He changed his position a foot or two and prepared to take it. Just before it reached him he made a sudden backward move and then leaped desperately into the air, thrusting up his hand. Instead of dropping, as Grifford had expected, the ball held up in a marvelous manner and passed fully two feet beyond his reach as he made that leap. It finally touched the ground and went bounding away, with Grifford rushing after it as fast as he could race over the turf. The white chalk of the base lines seemed to spin out beneath Gallup's feet like a thread as he literally flew over the ground. He heard a sound like the roaring of many waters. It was the joyous shouting of the great crowd as Merriwell crossed the plate and Diamond came speeding in from third. Gallup did not realize that these two runs put the Merries in the lead. He was determined to score if possible. As he came up from second he saw Hans Dunnerwurst dancing like a clown and furiously waving his arms, while he yelled: "Ephie, you vos a tandy! Ephie, you vos a peach! Ephie, I luf you! Dot score vill git you, und don'd nobody forgit him! Mine cootness, dot vos der most peautiful home run you efer saw in my life!" A homer it was, for Gallup reached the pan ahead of the ball, which Grifford had returned to the diamond. Frank seized Ephraim by the hand as he came over the plate. The rest of the team rushed at the Vermonter, hammering him joyously over the head and shoulders, much to the agitation of Teresa, who feared her husband had done some terrible thing and that his friends were beating him on that account. Bender looked sick and weary as Carson seized a bat and rushed out to the plate. The pitcher delivered an easy one, which Berlin drove into left field. Roach took the ball on the run, and this made the third out. Casper Silence was like a caged tiger as the Rovers gathered at the bench. "Get in here and win this game, you slobs!" he hissed. "If you don't, this team disbands to-night!" Against Frank Merriwell's pitching there was no chance for them, however. As in the previous inning, only three men faced Merry, and all three struck out. Gallup overtook Frank ere the excited crowd that rushed onto the field could reach Merry. "It's ten thousand for the consumptives' home at Wellsburg, by ginger!" laughed Ephraim. "Remember your promise, Gallup," said Frank, as he seized the Vermonter's hand. "You'll never bet again." "Never again!" vowed Ephraim. Then, like Merriwell, he was caught up by the rejoicing spectators, who triumphantly bore these two heroes of the game around the diamond, while they cheered themselves hoarse. When Merry at last had been successful in freeing himself from the grasp of jubilant admirers, he joined Inza and the ladies who had watched the game from the stand. Frank and his wife had fallen a little behind the others as they were approaching the house, and they were speaking quietly when a heavy slap on Frank's back caused him to turn around quickly. He was confronted by Berlin Carson. "A great game, Merry, old man!" exclaimed Berlin enthusiastically. "By Jove! that wing of yours has lost none of the tricks that enabled it to send team after team to the bad in the old days at Yale. And Gallup--Gallup! What a wallop that was he gave the ball in the last, eh? Great Caesar, I feel almost as exultant over it as if I had made it myself, but I'm more than half inclined to believe that it was something you called to him that put him on his mettle. What was it, Merry?" But before Frank had an opportunity to speak, Bart Hodge, who was several paces distant, called Berlin's name. "See you later--see you later, Merry," laughed Berlin, as he patted Frank on the back and broke away. Then, with almost boyish lightness, he ran in the direction of Hodge. Frank and Inza looked after him smilingly. Inza laid a hand on one of her husband's arms. "These last few days appear to have made quite a difference in Berlin," she said. "Yes, Inza," replied Frank, as he pressed his wife's hand, "yes, and the fact that the old chap is a boy again is due to that suggestion of yours. Had it not been for you, the 'old flock' would not have been here, casting over Merry Home the glamour of the good old times. The spirit which our old friends have invoked is one that could not be resisted even by faithful old Berlin Carson, who had learned to love, and since has learned to forget, the unfortunate young woman who tried to rob Frank Merriwell of his son." "And, after all, it is Frank Merriwell's son whom we have to thank for the happiness which these last few weeks have brought," Inza murmured softly. [THE END] _ |
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