W. Crispin Sheppard

“ CHAPTER XVI TOM IS "RATTLED"
"The fourth straight," said Aleck Parks. "The 'Hopes' are mowing 'em down as easily as a scythe cuts grass. How's that for playing, Luke Phelps? Wasn't yesterday's game a peach? Nine to six against Willington. Roycroft cracked out a homer, a two-base hit and a single. Oh, yes; that's going some. I saw 'Vanitas' sneaking around in the crowd looking kind of pale."
"If the Ramblers lose the next game they'll be yanked from their jobs as fast as a vacuum cleaner sucks up dust," remarked Phelps, complacently. "They go over to play the Engletons again to-morrow." ”

“ Coach Steele's gray eyes ran over the crowd congregated before the bulletin-board.
"It's the same old story, Bob. A coach's life is not always the biggest snap in the world."
"I wonder how Roycroft will take it," ventured Charlie Blake.
"Like a good sport, I'm sure," answered Steele.
"Of course he will," said Tom, who was bubbling over with glee. "Honest, Bob, I can hardly wait for the umpire to call 'Play ball!' Aren't we going to pulverize Nat Wingate's crowd? I'll bet we whitewash 'em. Doesn't it make you tired to hear some of those fellows boast?" ”

“ George Marlow, left fielder of the Stars, had connected with the ball so successfully that next instant all three bases were occupied.
The Stars found their voices once more. A vociferous din, in which megaphones and tin horns added to the volume, came from all parts of the field.
"Ah, here's where I do it!" cried John Hackett. "Watch me, Nat. If I don't everlastingly smack the pill I'll work an hour overtime at the store."
"I can stand Hackett's blow because it only makes you grin," mumbled "Crackers." "He knows enough not to mean what he says." ”

“ Steele, the school couldn't stand by and see a grand chance for getting a ball field and stand slip away."
"And it doesn't propose to!" cried Owen Lawrence.
"We have a proposition—a fair proposition: play us a series of games, and let whichever club wins represent the school. This is no time for stubbornness. Personal ambition has no place at such an important epoch in the history of the Kingswood High."
As the leader of the "outlaws" paused a lively rattle of tongues began. Excited students cheered, or voiced their protests until the room echoed with a noisy din. ”

“ The members of the Rockville team were plainly astonished. They scented an unusual situation; and every face was turned toward the heavy, stoop-shouldered form of "Crackers" Brown.
A surging mob quickly surrounded the players, forming a solid wall of humanity, each craning his neck to look eagerly over his neighbor's shoulder.
The throng became so dense that the regulars found themselves on the outside, trying to storm the barricade. ”

“ I know your game, Brown. You've been sneaking around, trying to put it into everybody's head that the Rambler Club is running this team. Do you get me, Dan Brown?"
"I KNOW YOUR GAME"
"I shall pretty soon," returned "Crackers," solemnly.
"Oh, you think you're mighty smart!" cried Tom. "But if your specs weren't so blurred with conceit you'd see that you're going too far."
"I suppose this is a little prelude to the show," said the coach, pleasantly. "It's a bad thing for ball players to get overheated before the umpire begins his chirp. Please oblige me: run away and cool off." ”

“ Hooray for Roycroft! Get away from here, Aleck Parks. Your language is always rude."
"In order to avoid mistakes or squabbling over the result we ask every student to put his name on the ballot!" called Brown.
The noise and arguments ceased. Every lad felt the importance of the proceedings and wished, if possible, to end the unfortunate situation which had hovered over the school for weeks. In their eagerness to get the slips of paper a jostling, clamoring crowd besieged each holder of a box. Occasionally a small shower fell to the ground, to be pounced upon by those nearest at hand. ”

“ Critical observers of the High's new team noted that the fire and dash with which the big lads played seemed to impress their opponents greatly.
"Brown's bunch is the most unruly lot in the school," growled Tom Clifton, who had ardently wished to see the "Hopes" sustain a crushing defeat. "There won't be any discipline on that team very long."
"They played a mighty good game, though," ventured Charlie Blake.
Tom steered his companion out of the way of a procession of joyous rooters, led by Aleck Parks and Luke Phelps.
"How about the 'Pie-eaters and doughnut crowd' now?" ”

“ The great trunk of the elm partly shielded the busy students from a brisk, pleasant breeze, which, having no regard for the importance of the occasion, apparently strove its best to send the white scraps dancing merrily to the ground. The soft music of the gently-swaying boughs above kept up a steady accompaniment to the noises which once more broke out on the campus.
A dense crowd surged around the table, threatening at times to interfere with the work. ”

“ The runners on first and second were doing all in their power to worry the twirler—playing off and running back.
"Take a few yards more, Wiles!" bawled the coach at first. "He won't throw it!"
"Jack Frost" realized that it was the critical juncture of the game. The sight of "Crackers" Brown and Owen Lawrence not far from the "grand stand" nerved him to do his utmost.
"Here's where I'll have to put everything I know on the ball," he reflected, warily watching the antics of the base-runners. ”

“ It seemed but a moment before the players found themselves trooping out upon the field again with a dull and deadly feeling that Tony Tippen was more than living up to his reputation. The crowd, ready to voice its approval or disapproval, yelled earnestly at every opportunity.
It was not until the ending of the fourth inning, however, that the Kingswood rooters had a chance to strain their lungs to the breaking point. Tony Tippen, one of the hardest hitters on the Stars, had reached first in safety. ”

“ Only husky throats and tired lungs brought the quiet for which Dan Brown was pleading.
"Look out—there'll be a perfectly good box busted under that ton weight!" piped Victor Collins.
"Fellows, I appreciate your kindness," said the big captain of the "Hopes." "I only want to do the right thing for the school. We all know that every effort should be made to win Mr. Barry's field; and I'm afraid the regular team is not equal to the job. I am one of those who believe the majority counts. If you agree with Brown—and it looks very much as if you do—all I have to say is: give us your support." ”

“ Joe Rodgers was in ecstasy.
"They can't be beaten!" he cried.
"Three forty-five P. M. Decision reached that the Ramblers can't be beaten," chuckled Benny Wilkins, who happened to be near. "Too bad we can't get some major leaguers out here and show 'em just where they stand."
"Saturday will be a great day for the school team," predicted Harry Spearman. "Everybody is brimming over with confidence."
"I never bank too much on parlor practice," put in Ted Pollock. "Hush! Don't say a word. Here comes Tom Clifton. Strikes me he's up in the air in more'n one way," he added, in a lower tone. ”

“ The Rambler Club of Kingswood, Wisconsin, formed by Bob Somers and his friends, Dave Brandon, Tom Clifton, Dick Travers and Sam Randall, after having numerous adventures in their own state, visit Oregon, Wyoming, Washington and New York. In the mountains, on the plains, or deep amidst the forest the five lads taste the joys, and also the trials, of outdoor life, and in most unexpected or thrilling situations manage to acquit themselves with credit. ”

“ How can you expect a team to do its best with the school fighting against it? Don't you know that the effect on the players is bad—it puts a tremendous strain on them."
"It certainly does!" exclaimed President Hopkins.
"We've held out against you in this affair, Brown, because every member of the team knew it was only a question of our being given enough time to round into shape."
"There is the whole story," put in Coach Steele. "To have yielded to your demands would have meant an outrageous piece of injustice."
"Indeed!" jeered Brown. "How much more time do you want?" ”

“ Harry Spearman dug his heel viciously into the yielding turf. The sarcastic looks on the faces of "Crackers" Brown and Owen Lawrence stung his sensitive nature.
"Come on, Dick," he said, in a low tone. "I want to speak to Bob a moment."
They found the captain and Coach Steele coming away from the bench on which Mr. Rupert Barry and the others were seated.
Steele shook his head and laughed dryly.
"Things are not breaking just the way we hoped, Harry," he said. "If we could only put a man on base once in a while I'll wager they'd manage to get around some way or other." ”

“ Brown, sourly. "They haven't any business to be watching a game like this."
"Ha, ha! That's so," laughed Benny. "When is a game not a game?"
"When the Kingswood Stars play the Ramblers?"
"Oh, you rude thing. No; when it's punk. Isn't the way our chaps play ball enough to make Barry plant corn on his lot?"
"Get out, you croakers!" snapped Harry Spearman.
"The game isn't over yet," put in little Joe Rodgers, whose generally smiling face looked grave. "Just wait till Dave Brandon gets another chance at bat."
"We've been doing nothing else but wait," growled "Crackers." ”

“ The shrieking, gleeful Rockvillers, waving every available pennant, saw the ball shooting between first and second with terrific speed.
Bob Somers made a wild attempt to stop it, but the sphere bounded high over his head.
Meanwhile Bill Allen was trotting leisurely for home.
"Sic a Goose Hill gander on Singleton!" shouted Benny. "He's only good at pitching quoits. Get him a doughnut—quick."
"No—he takes the biscuit!" yelled Aleck Parks. "One run, and nobody down."
"I remember when I should have called that an exhibition well worth missing," observed Mr. Barry, with a sort of half chuckle. ”

“ Charlie Blake's foot touched the heel of his neighbor's shoe.
"Oh, I don't know," returned the other, encouragingly. He lowered his voice. "When the fellows were most yelling their heads off, didn't 'Jack Frost' send three men to base on balls in succession?"
"Just as soon as the game is over I feel how much better I could have played," sighed Charlie. "Honest fact—all that rooting does get on my nerves."
"Just because you're not used to it."
"Nat Wingate's crowd certainly acted handsomely by you chaps," remarked "Crackers." "Nat is just as solid for the good of the school as we are." ”

“ It certainly looked like a great day for the Kingswood High.
By the fence behind home plate the players gathered around Coach Steele.
"Don't get rattled," he cautioned. "Remember, quick thinking at a crucial point has won many a game. Feel 'em out in the early innings, and don't let a single chance for stealing a base slip by."
"You bet we won't," laughed Tom. "When that crowd finds out what we have to show in the running line they'll open their eyes."
"Get to work, boys," ordered the coach. "Hello, Lou Mercer!" He extended his hand toward a good-looking boy, manager of the club. ”

“ Thought your weight and Somers' delicate nerve would carry you through. Lucky dogs!"
"I can see an awful lot of hard work before us," drawled Dave Brandon.
"But just think what jolly good fun it'll be getting the school a new athletic field," exclaimed Tom. "Hope some of the teams we play are strong enough to give us a pretty good tussle."
"Cut it out, fellows! I tell you I don't want you to say a word. I'm not putting up any kick."
Earl Roycroft's big form loomed up from among a group of gesticulating, excited admirers. Voices echoed sharply through the big gymnasium. ”

“ Sam Randall toyed with a paper-weight on his desk.
"No, I can't say that, Brown. I'm only one of the officers of the association. The others must speak for themselves."
"But you, as president, ought to have a great deal of influence," suggested "Crackers," slowly pacing the floor. "I tell you plainly, the fellows are getting worked up; they won't stand for any dictatorial methods. Aren't you going to use your influence to prevent the explosion that one more defeat would certainly bring? It might blow nearly every member of the organization out of his job." ”

“ We have some birds in this bunch. Bush, our pitcher, requires only nine balls to put out a side; he nearly always does it. We've an infield that a ball wouldn't go by if it had a chance. Baseball as we play it can only be seen at the big league games. I shall ask our esteemed friend, Mr. Bill, to remember what I say."
"What's the name of your nine?" asked Mr. "Bill."
"The High School 'Hopes.'"
"We'll promise to dash 'em," grinned the other.
"Commiseration for your feelings after the game prevents me from making a tart reply," said Brown. "What day shall we come over?" ”