Batting to Win: A Story of College Baseball, Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  MISS MABEL HARRISON

  Neither Tom nor Phil made any reference, the following morning, to theincident of the night before. As usual, none of the boys got up when thewarning of the alarm clock summoned them, for they always allowed halfan hour for its persistent habit of running fast. As it was, it happenedto be correct on this occasion, and they were barely in time for chapel,Tom having to adjust his necktie on the race across the campus.

  "Well, what's on for to-day?" asked Phil, as, with Tom and Sid, hestrolled from the chapel after service.

  "Baseball practice this afternoon," decided Tom, for the rain hadstopped.

  "It'll be pretty sloppy," observed Phil dubiously.

  "Wear rubbers," advised the captain. "The fellows need some fresh air,and they're going to get it. Be on hand, Sid?"

  "Sure. Now I've got to get a disagreeable job over with. Me for thedoctor's office," and that was his only reference to the punishmentmeted out to him. He was required to do the usual number of lines ofLatin prose, which was not hard for him, as he was a good scholar. Tomand Sid went to their lectures, the captain, on the way, calling tothe various members of the team to be on hand at the diamond in theafternoon.

  Sid accomplished his sentence of punishment in the room, and afterdinner the three chums, with a motley crowd of players, and lovers ofthe great game, moved over the campus toward the diamond.

  "Done anything about a manager?" asked Holly Cross, as he tightened hisbelt and began tossing up a grass-stained ball.

  "Not yet," replied Tom. "There's time enough. I want to get the fellowsin some kind of shape. We won't play a game for a month yet--that is anyexcept practice ones, and we don't need a manager to arrange for them.Whom have you fellows in mind?"

  "Ed Kerr," spoke Holly promptly. "He knows the game from A to Z."

  "I thought he was going to play," came quickly from Tom. "We need him onthe nine."

  "He isn't going to play this season," went on Holly. "I heard him sayso. He wants to save himself for football, and he says he can't riskgoing in for both. He'd make a good manager."

  "Fine!" agreed Tom, Sid and Phil.

  "Yes, but did you hear the latest?" asked Snail Looper, gliding along,almost like the reptile he was christened after.

  "What?" demanded several.

  "There's talk of Ford Fenton for manager," went on Snail.

  "What, Ford!" cried Tom. "He'd be giving us nothing all the while but'my uncle says this' and 'my uncle used to do it that way'! No Ford formine, though I like the chap fairly well."

  "Same here," agreed Phil. "We can stand him, but not his uncle," for, beit known, Ford Fenton, one of the sophomore students, was the nephew ofa man who had been a celebrated coach at Randall in the years gone by.Ford believed in keeping his memory green, and on every possible, andsome impossible, occasions he would preface his remarks with "My Unclesays" and then go on and tell something. It got on the nerves of hisfellows, and they "rigged" him unmercifully about it, but Fenton couldnot seem to take the hint. His uncle was a source of pride to him, butit is doubtful if the former coach knew how his reputation suffered atthe hands of his indiscrete youthful relative.

  "Who told you Fenton had a chance for manager?" asked Sid Henderson.

  "Why, Bert Bascome is his press agent."

  "Bascome, the freshman?" Phil wanted to know, and Snail Looper nodded.

  "Guess he didn't get all the hazing that was coming to him last fall,"remarked Tom. "We'll have to tackle him again. Kerr is the only logicalcandidate for manager, if he isn't going to play."

  "That's right," came in a chorus, as the lads kept on toward thediamond.

  Tom was doing some hard thinking. It was a new responsibility forhim--to run the team--and he wanted a manager on whom he could depend.If there was a contest over the place, as seemed likely from what SnailLooper had said, it would mean perhaps a dividing of interests, and lackof support for the team. He did not like the prospect, but he knewbetter than to tell his worries to the players now. At present he wantedto get them into some kind of shape, after a winter of comparativeidleness.

  "Here comes Mr. Leighton," observed Phil, as a young, and pleasant-facedgentleman was seen strolling toward the diamond. "Everybody work hardnow--no sloppy work."

  "That's right," assented Tom. "Fellows, what I want most to bring outthis season," he went on, "is some good hitting. Good batting winsgames, other things being equal. We've got to bat to win."

  "You needn't talk," put in Dutch Housenlager, coming up then, and, withhis usual horse play trying to trip Tom. "You are the worst hitter onthe team."

  "I know it," admitted Tom good naturedly, as he gave Dutch a welt on thechest, which made that worthy gasp. "My strong point isn't batting, andI know it. I can pitch a little, perhaps----"

  "You're there with the goods when it comes to twirling," called outHolly Cross.

  "Well, then, I'm going to depend on you fellows for the stick work,"went on Tom. "But let's get down to business. The ground isn't so wet."

  "Well, boys, let's see what we can do," proposed the coach, and presentlyballs were being pitched and batted to and fro, grounders were beingpicked up by Bricktop Molloy, who excelled in his position of shortstop,while Jerry and Joe Jackson, the Jersey twins, with Phil Clinton, who onthis occasion filled, respectively, the positions of right, left andcenter field were catching high flies.

  "Now for a practice game," proposed Tom. "I want to see if I have any ofmy curves left."

  Two scrub nines were soon picked out, and a game was gotten under way.It was "ragged and sloppy" as Holly Cross said, but it served to warm upthe lads, and to bring out strong and weak points, which was the objectsought.

  The team, of which Tom was just then the temporary captain, won by asmall margin, and then followed some coaching instructions from Mr.Leighton.

  "That will do for to-day," he said. "Be at it again to-morrow, and we'llsoon be in shape."

  The players and their admirers--lads who had not made the team--strolledoff the diamond. Tom, walking along with Phil and Sid, suddenly put hishand in his pocket.

  "Just my luck!" he exclaimed.

  "What's the matter?" asked Phil.

  "I'm broke," was the answer, "and I want to get a new shirt. Phil, lendme a couple of dollars. I'll get my check from dad to-morrow."

  "I'm in the same boat, old man," was the rueful reply. "Tackle Sid here,I saw him with a bunch of money yesterday. He can't have spent it allsince, for he isn't in love."

  "Just the thing," assented Tom. "Fork over a couple of bones, Sid. I'lllet you have it directly."

  "I--er--I'm sorry," fairly stammered the second baseman, for that wasthe position Tom had picked out for his chum, "I haven't but fiftycents until I get my allowance, or until----" and he stopped suddenly.

  "Wow!" cried Phil. "You must have slathered it away last night then,when you were out, for I saw you with a bundle----"

  Then he stopped, for he saw a queer look come over Sid's face. Thesecond baseman blushed, and was about to make reply, when Phil remarked:

  "I beg your pardon, Sid. I hadn't any right to make that crack. Ofcourse I--er--you understand--er--I----"

  "That's all right," said Sid quickly. "I was a little flush yesterday,but I had a sudden demand on me, Tom, and----"

  "Don't mention it!" interrupted Tom. "I dare say I can get trusted atBallman's for a shirt. I'm going out to-night, or I wouldn't need aclean one, and my duds haven't come back from the laundry."

  "I didn't know my sister was going out to-night," fired Phil, for Tomhad been rather "rushing" Ruth Clinton of late, "rushing" being thecollege term for accompanying a young lady to functions.

  "I guess she doesn't have to ask you," retorted the captain. "But Iunderstood you and Miss Tyler----"

  "Speak of trolley cars, and you'll hear the gong," put in Sid suddenly."I believe your two affinities are now approaching."

  "By Jove, he's right!" exclaimed Phil, looking across the green
campus."There's Ruth, and Madge Tyler is with her. I didn't know Ruth wascoming over from Fairview."

  "And they've got a friend with them--there are three girls," said Tomquickly. "Sid, you're right in it. There's one for you."

  "Not on your life!" cried the tall and good-looking second baseman."I've got an important engagement," and he would have fled had not Tomand Phil seized and held him, despite his struggles, until Miss RuthClinton, Miss Madge Tyler and the third young lady approached. Whereat,seeing that his struggle to escape was futile, as well as undignified,Sid gave it up.

  "Hello, Ruth!" cried Phil good-naturedly to his sister, but his eyessought those of Madge Tyler. "How'd you get here?"

  "Trolley," was the demure answer. "I'm going to the Phi Beta theatricalwith Mr. Parsons to-night, and I thought I'd save him the trouble ofcoming for me. Madge and I are staying in Haddonfield with friends ofMiss Harrison."

  "Good!" cried Tom, as he moved closer to Phil's pretty sister, while,somehow, Phil and Madge seemed to drift together.

  "Oh, I almost forgot, you don't know Mabel, do you, boys?" asked Madge,with a merry laugh. "Miss Mabel Harrison. Mabel, allow me to present toyou Tom Parsons, champion pitcher of the Randall 'varsity nine; PhilClinton, who made such a good showing on the gridiron last year, he'sRuth's brother, you know, and----" she paused as she turned to SidHenderson, who was moving about uncomfortably.

  "Sid Henderson, the only and original misogynist of Randall college,"finished Tom, with a mischievous laugh. "He is the only one in captivity,but will eat from your hand."

  "I'll fix you for that," growled Sid in Tom's ear, but the girlslaughed, as did Phil and the captain, and the introductions werecompleted. Miss Harrison proved to be an exceptionally pretty andvivacious girl, a fit companion for Ruth and Madge. She was fond ofsport, as she soon announced, and Phil and Tom warmed to her at once.

  As might have been expected, Tom walked along with Ruth, Phil with MissTyler, and that left Sid nothing to do but to stroll at the side of MissHarrison.

  "So you play ball, too," she began as an opener, looking at his uniform.

  "Yes--er--that is I play at it, sometimes," floundered Sid, conscious ofa big green grass stain on one leg, where he had fallen in reaching fora high fly.

  "Isn't it great!" went on the girl, her blue eyes flashing as sheglanced up at Sid. Somehow the lad's heart was beating strangely.

  "It's the only game--except football," he conceded. "Do youplay--I--er--I mean--of course----"

  "Oh, I just love football!" she cried. "I hope our team wins thechampionship this year!"

  "Your team?" and Sid was plainly puzzled.

  "Well, I mean the boys of Fairview--I attend there you know."

  "I didn't know it, but I'm glad to," spoke Sid, wondering why he neverbefore thought blue eyes pretty. "Do you live at the college?"

  "Oh, yes; but you see I happened to come to Haddonfield to stay overnight with relatives, and when I found Madge and Ruth were going to alittle affair here to-night, I asked them to stay with me. It's such ajaunt back to the college."

  "Indeed it is," agreed Sid. "You and Miss Tyler and Miss Clinton aregreat friends, I judge," he went on, wondering what his next sentencewould be.

  "Indeed we are. Aren't they perfectly sweet girls?"

  "Fine!" exclaimed Sid with such enthusiasm that his companion looked athim in some surprise, her flashing eyes completing the work alreadybegun by their first glance.

  "I thought you didn't care for--that is--was that true what Mr. Parsonsaccused you of?" Miss Harrison asked. "Is a misogynist a very savagecreature?" she went on demurely.

  "That's all rot--I beg your pardon--they were rigging you--I--er--Imean--Oh, I say, Miss Harrison, are you going to the Phi Beta racketto-night--I mean the theatricals to-night?" and poor Sid floundered indeeper and deeper.

  "No," answered the girl, "I'm not going."

  "Why not?" asked Sid desperately.

  "Because I haven't been asked, I suppose," and she laughed merrily.

  "Then would you mind--that is--I have two tickets--but I didn't expectto go. Now, if you would----"

  "Oh, Mr. Henderson, don't go on my account!"

  "Oh, it isn't on your account--I mean--that is--Oh, wouldn't you like togo?" and he seemed in great distress.

  "I should love to," she almost whispered.

  "Then will you--that is would you--er--that is----"

  "Of course I will," answered Mabel, taking pity on her companion'sembarrassment. "Won't it be lovely, with Madge and Ruth, and herbrother and Mr. Parsons. We'll be quite a party."

  "It'll be immense!" declared Sid with great conviction. Thereafter heseemed to find it easier to keep the conversation going.

  The little group came to the end of the campus. Phil, Tom, Madge andRuth waited for Sid and Mabel.

  "Well, we'll see you girls to-night," said Tom, for he and his chum wereanxious to get to their room and "tog up." Then he added: "It's a pityMiss Harrison isn't going. If I had thought----"

  "Miss Harrison is going!" cried Sid with sudden energy.

  "What?" cried Tom and Phil together. Then, realizing that it mightembarrass the girl, Tom added:

  "Fine! We'll all go together. Come on, Sid, and get some of the outfieldmud scraped away."

  The girls waved laughing farewells, and Sid, rather awkwardly, shookhands with Miss Harrison.

  "What's the matter, old chap?" asked Tom of him, when they were beyondhearing distance of the girls. "Are you afraid you'll never see heragain?"

  "Shut up!" cried Sid.

  "Wonders will never cease," went on Phil. "To see our old misogynistbeing led along by a pretty girl! However did you get up the spunk toask her to go to-night, sport?"

  "Shut up!" cried Sid again. "Haven't I got a right to?"

  "Oh, of course!" agreed Tom quickly. "It's a sign of regeneration, oldman. I'm glad to see it! What color are her eyes?"

  "Blue," answered Sid promptly, before he thought.

  "Ha! Ha!" laughed Phil and Tom.

  "Did you get her photograph?" asked Tom, clinging to Phil, so strenuouswas his mirth.

  "Say, I'll punch your head if you don't quit!" threatened Sid, and then,as he saw Wallops, the messenger, coming toward him, with a letter,there came to Sid's face a new look--one of fear, his chums thought.

  He read the note quickly, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then heturned, and hastened after the three girls.

  "Here, what's up?" demanded Tom, for Sid had acted strangely.

  "I can't go to the theatricals to-night, after all," was the surprisinganswer. "I must apologize to Miss Harrison. Will you take her, Tom?"

  "Of course," was the answer, and then, as Sid hastened to make hisexcuses to the girl who, but a few minutes before, he had asked toaccompany him, his two chums looked at each other, and shook theirheads. The mystery about Sid was deepening.