Burt L. Standish

“ The palpitant, swaying crowd, those in front pushed forward by those behind; the baseball players round the edges of the cleared space, bracing to hold the mob back almost by main strength; human beings climbing on other human beings to get a momentary glimpse of the fighters; men and boys jammed in a dense mass on the bleachers, and still more of them clinging like monkeys to the bending limbs of the tree—and every face ablaze with the primitive passion of mankind, the savage zest of battle, the barbarous joy of witnessing a sanguinary struggle between two of their specie. ”

“ McGovern danced gayly to the scoring station, Bernsteine following with a rush. There was a wild riot on the Bancroft bleachers, men leaping up and down, flinging their hats into the air and yelling themselves purple in the face; for, with two runs scored, no one out, Locke apparently all to the bad, and Pinwheel Murtel in Big League form, it seemed that the game had been clinched for the Bullies. ”

“ The best stickers of the Bullies had faced Locke in two innings, and not one had obtained as much as a scratch single off him; realizing which, the local crowd had spasms of many sorts. With faith completely restored, the Kingsbridgers were telling one another exultantly that, at last, the man had been found to hold the hated enemy in check. Visions of the Northern League pennant waving over their grand stand at the finish of the season already danced before their eyes. ”

“ That she should care so much what might happen to a total stranger, even though he were the new-found idol of the Kingsbridge fans, was sufficient to skim the scales swiftly from Benton King’s eyes, and leave him confessing to himself, without shame, that she was very dear to him. For, trite but true, that which we desire very much becomes a thousand times more desirable as our chance of possession grows less.
And now, as they drove slowly homeward, something writhed and burned within him at the further evidence of her interest in Locke. ”

“ With the appearance of the home team, Hutchinson sprang a surprise. A new man came on the field with them, a bronzed, husky, rawboned man, who quickly set the crowd to speculating as to his identity. When the local pitchers began limbering their wings, one question was quickly answered; for when the stranger commenced to warm up, also, it was seen that he was a pitcher; and many a Kingsbridger hoped he would prove to be better than either Deever or Skillings.
Mike Riley, smoking industriously, stood around with his hands in his pockets, watching his players in a self-satisfied manner. ”

“ Having relieved his feelings by a flaying fling at Mace, as the final victim of Locke’s skill secured his fielding mitt from the bench, Riley cast aside the remnants of his cigar, lighted a fresh weed, and prepared to watch Jock Hoover make monkeys of the locals.
Janet Harting was overjoyed. “Oh, wasn’t that splendid!” she cried, impulsively squeezing her companion’s arm with one gloved hand. “It was such a surprise! I never expected it.”
“No more did any one, I fancy,” said King, laughing. “It’s the unexpected that so frequently happens which makes baseball the fascinating game it is. ”

“ He is cold as a fish and bloodless as a stone, with a voice as flat and monotonous as the Desert of Sahara, and his frosty, unfeeling eye is not the eye of an honest man.
He does not belong in Kingsbridge, but has been hired, like the players on the team, and I should say that he is a person who stands ready to sell himself at any time for a price.
If it should happen that, near the close of the season, Kingsbridge stands between Bancroft and championship honors, Bancroft will cop the pennant easily enough by dickering on the “q. t.” with Mr. Robert Hutchinson—or I’m away off my trolley. ”

“ The Bullies started to kick, nearly every man on the team taking part in it. The crowd hooted and hissed, but it was only the nerve of the umpire in pulling his watch which finally sent the Bancroft players, growling, back to their positions. There was so much money wagered on the game that they could not afford to lose it through forfeiture; but henceforth they badgered the umpire on almost every decision, even scoffing when he declared in their favor.
Labelle sacrificed Locke to second. Stark, thirsting for a hit, hoisted a fly to center. ”

“ For, while the milltown people had heard that the Bullies would present a new left-handed slabman, the promise that Locke would do the tossing for the Kinks left them still with a feeling of assurance undisturbed by the least uncertainty.
Not that they believed there was no chance of losing, but their faith in Lefty was so great that it seemed at least a five-to-one shot in Kingsbridge’s favor; and a man who would “squeeze his roll” with such an opportunity staring him in the face certainly lacked sporting blood. ”

“ There were some who began to prophesy that the Kinks would be shut out without a hit on their own field. There are always wise heads who make foolish prophecies early in every game.
The second inning opened with Bancroft’s left-handed hitters coming up, and Locke, knowing they had been practicing against a left-handed pitcher, worked with the utmost care and judgment, his change of speed being most effective, as it caused two of the four men who faced him to bump weak grounders into the diamond, to their complete undoing. ”

“ Grady, the next batter, eager to keep things going and gain as much advantage for Bancroft as possible before another pitcher was sent in, was seeking to push him back into his position.
His manner entirely changed, although his face continued ashen, Locke beckoned to the catcher, and ran forward. Oulds, scowling, sour, sullen, met him five feet in front of the pan.
“Give me that ball,” said Locke, taking it from the catcher’s hand. “Call the curves: a drop or a high inshoot for a strike-out, whichever you happen to know this man is weakest on. I’m going to get him.” ”

“ I guess I’m a real fan, all right, and I’ll be worse than ever with Kingsbridge winning from Bancroft, and—and Lefty pitching. He’s surely what they can call some pitcher. And he can fight—gracious!”
She shivered a bit at the recollection of the scene she had witnessed after the game was over. Again she seemed to behold those fighting men hammering at each other with their bare fists, savage, bloodstained, brutal. ”

“ She wondered that a baseball player could have such fine, well-groomed hands; and she had come to believe that the hand of any man tattles the secrets of him to whom it belongs.
After a few moments, the ball players passed out of the church between two lines of children waiting to enter for Sabbath school when the congregation should have departed. Even as she smilingly greeted some of those children, Janet’s eyes followed the retreating figure of Tom Locke. ”

“ Two men, taking note of his difficulty, grasped the horses by the bits; but the crowd, seemingly deaf and oblivious to everything except the imminent fist fight, could not be induced to make way.
“I’m sorry, Janet,” said the lumberman’s son. “This is no place for you. I was a fool to wait a minute when the trouble began.”
“Never mind,” she returned, her voice quivering a little, her face quite colorless. “I—I want to see. It isn’t right for them to fight; it isn’t fair. Lefty can’t be a match for that ruffian. Why don’t they stop it?” ”

“ It began to seem that the man who had prophesied no hits and no runs for the Kinks might not be such a fool, after all.
Locke’s manner was almost trancelike as he toed the slab at the beginning of the fourth. His first ball was wide, but Trollop caught the second one on the seam and pounded it for two sacks, bringing the Bancroft rooters up, roaring. They continued to roar, as Grady bunted and sacrificed Trollop to third, where, with only one out, he was in position to score on the squeeze play if the Bullies saw fit to try it. ”

“ A young fellow by the name of King came to me about Locke. He’s got an idea in his nut that the boy is a Princeton pitcher by the name of Hazelton.”
Riley started as if shot, almost dropping his cigar.
“What’s that?” he cried. “Hazelton, of Princeton? Great smoke! It can’t be possible!”
“Why not? I should say the youngster is a college man.”
The manager of the Bancroft Bullies gave his thigh a resounding slap.
“Great smoke!” he exclaimed again. “If that’s right, that old rat Cope beat me to it. Why, I made a proposal to Paul Hazelton myself.” ”

“ He was nettled by the conviction that Janet was suddenly taking altogether too much interest in the practically unknown Kingsbridge pitcher, who, following his surprising double victory of the day, was surely destined to become a popular idol in the town. He had known Janet three years, having met her at a church sociable in the days when Cyrus King was setting about in earnest, by the construction of his mills, to turn Kingsbridge from a dull, sleepy settlement into a hustling, chesty town. ”

“ Bingo Bangs was not much of a hitter, and the crowd saw Lefty whip the ball through a single groove three times in succession, and three times the Bullies’ catcher hammered the air. After the third strike, the ball having been returned by Oulds, Locke caught a quick signal from the backstop, and wheeled, to flash the sphere like a shot into the hands of Labelle, who had dodged past the runner. ”

“ Just because you’re manager of a bullyin’ baseball team you can’t come here and bully me. I’ve got a pitcher that can make monkeys of your bunch o’ players, and you realize it, so you want to gouge me outer him somehow. But it won’t work, Riley—it won’t work. You never heard o’ Tom Locke in your life till you heard of him pitchin’ for Kingsbridge. ”

“ Always play the game safe when you can—that’s my motto. I’ll take chances, all right, if I have to, but I’ve never yet let my conscience fret me into ducking a bet on a sure thing. Hoover is the Kinks’ hoodoo, and it ought to be pretty safe with him handing ’em.”
“Safe,” gurgled Riley, highly amused. “I should guess yes. They think they’ve got some players, but, with Hutchinson furnishin’ only four out of the ’leven men they have, as he told me, and Cope diggin’ up the rest, most of ’em holdovers from last year, it’s a joke. ”

“ A man is barred if he’s ever caught at it. Just the same, some of them, needing the dough, take the risk. Up here in this league a man would stand a fair chance of getting by without being exposed.”
“It’s—it’s supposed to be dishonest, isn’t it?”
“Yes; but necessity has driven more than one good man to shut his eyes to that phase of the matter. If this Locke was known at all as a professional, some of the players of this league should recognize him.”
“I don’t like to think that he’s a college man who would do such a thing,” said Janet earnestly. ”

“ The crowd just went crazy when our new southpaw slant artist started the fireworks going in the sixth with a clean wallop, moved up a peg on a sacrifice, pilfered the third hassock, and slid home on a beautiful squeeze that gave us our first count, and—”
“Stop, Janet!” he cried, bewildered. “What are you talking about?”
“Why, baseball, daddy! I’m simply telling you how we won the game.”
“You may be trying to tell me, but you are not doing it simply. ‘Coat of whitewash,’ ‘bingle,’ ‘southpaw slant artist,’ ‘clean wallop,’ ‘third hassock,’ ‘beautiful squeeze’! ”

“ Hutchinson sneered.
“Haven’t you got a touch of the swelled nut? Do you think you’re the only pitcher in the business? Winning those two games from Bancroft must have puffed you up aplenty.”
“I have won games before I ever came here, or I couldn’t have won those games,” was the retort. “I know you are only a hired manager; but, as long as you are taking Kingsbridge money for your services, it’s up to you to give Kingsbridge your very best interest and effort.” ”

“ It’s a put-up job to gouge us out of a pitcher that’s got the whole o’ Bancroft scared pea green. We’ve got ’em goin’, and they’re afraid they can’t beat us on the level, so, arter their usual style, they put up a job to weaken us by stealin’ our pitcher. That’s Bancroft out an’ out, and Mike Riley’s a good tool to work the trick for them; but he can’t work it—he can’t, I tell ye!”
“Doubtless you know more about the merits of the case than I do,” said Hutchinson calmly; “for you signed this man who calls himself Locke. Riley says Locke is a Princeton College pitcher by the name of Hazelton. ”

“ This brought the Kingsbridge crowd up howling wrathfully, and Locke, recovering his position at the pan, cried loudly enough for Hoover to hear:
“Try it again, old boy—try it again, and they’ll be coming after you with war clubs and scalping knives.”
Captain Harney ran out and grabbed Hoover. “Keep your head, Jock—keep your head,” he begged. “He’s won the crowd. He’s got ’em with him. You’ll start a fight that’ll mean busted heads if you hit him on purpose.” ”

“ He is a young man with a most persuasive and flattering tongue.”
“I’ll not dispute you,” she said, thinking of those parting words at the door. “He needed a persuasive tongue to win you over, you are so dreadfully set against baseball. You can’t seem to realize that the game itself is really harmless and clean, and two-thirds of the people of this town are crazy over it. They’ll be crazier still after to-day, for we beat Bancroft—shut ’em out without a single tally, gave ’em nine beautiful goose eggs. ”

“ Speechless with exasperation, Hutchinson turned back and reseated himself on the bench. Seeing this, and understanding that Locke would continue yet a while on the firing line, Stark ran to him, grasped him with both hands, and spoke in swift, yet steady, tones:
“Pull yourself together, Lefty; you’ve got to do it, and you can. Bangs is easy, and that man Murtel can’t hit a balloon. ”