Dave Porter at Oak Hall/Chapter 32
CHAPTER XXXII
THE OPENING OF THE BASEBALL SEASON
After the holidays time moved along swiftly at Oak Hall without anything of special interest happening. Dave gave his studies every attention, to the satisfaction not only of Professor Potts and Mr. Wadsworth, but likewise of Dr. Clay.
"That Porter is a lad after my own heart," said the doctor to Andrew Dale. "He studies hard, plays hard, and puts his whole soul into whatever he is doing."
"You are right, doctor," answered the first assistant. "Isn't it strange that he knows nothing of his past? Certainly he comes from no common stock."
"It is strange, and for his sake I trust the mystery is some day cleared up, and to his advantage."
During the four months following the holidays both Gus Plum and Nat Poole let Dave and his chums severely alone. Losing the skating race made the bully of Oak Hall feel sick, and he did not wish to risk a defeat of any other sort at the hands of the country boy. When he saw Dave on the ice he kept at a distance, and it was the same on the playground or in the gymnasium.
Once during that time Plum and Poole caught Chip Macklin skating alone some distance from the academy. Both tried to bully the former sneak, but he stood his ground bravely and they found they could do little with him.
"I'm done with both of you, and I want you to know it," said Macklin. "I was a big fool to be a toady to anybody."
"And what are you now—a toady to Dave Porter," sneered Gus Plum.
"No, I am not, Gus. But if I was, it would be better than doing your bidding," answered Macklin, and skated off, leaving Plum and Poole staring after him. The bully wanted to pitch into the smaller boy, but, somehow did not dare.
"This is some more of Porter's work," grumbled Poole. "Before you know it, Gus, he'll have the whole school down on us."
"Never mind; just wait till I get the chance—I'll square up with him," answered the bully of the Hall, vindictively.
As the winter passed, the boys turned their attention to spring sports, and it was not long before baseball was the chief topic outside of school hours. During the previous season the Hall had had a good club, but had lost several important games, including the annual "try-out" with Rockville Military Academy.
"We must do better this season," said Phil, who was captain of the nine. "Rockville has crowed over us long enough on the ball field."
"Dave, you said you loved to play ball," said Roger.
"I do," was the ready reply. "But I don't think I can play well enough to go on the Hall nine."
"We'll try you," said Phil. "Every year we try a dozen candidates, you know."
Phil was captain of the club, and played second base, while Roger was one of the catchers, alternating with Shadow Hamilton, who played first base. Sam Day played right field, and the other positions were, or rather, had been, filled by various players. A boy named Carden had been the principal pitcher during the previous season, but he had left the school shortly afterwards.
As soon as the ground was in proper condition, baseball playing began, to the exclusion almost of every other field sport. As he was not invited to join the regular Hall team, Gus Plum organized a nine of his own, with himself as pitcher and Nat Poole as catcher.
"We'll practice up and then issue a challenge to the regular team," said the bully to his crony. "If we manage to defeat them they will have to let our club represent the academy in the important outside games."
At the proper time Phil tried twelve boys who wished to get on the regular team of the school. Of these youths four were selected to join the squad, either as regulars or substitutes. Of these four Dave was one.
"Your batting is all right, Dave," said Phil, after the selections had been made. "And your throwing is good and strong. Do you know what I would like you to do? I'd like you to practice pitching."
"Pitching!" ejaculated Dave. "Do you think I could pitch?" And his face took on an interested look. He had often had a desire to "fill the box," but had never thought himself able to do it.
"Well, you try it, and we'll see how you make out," answered the captain of the club. "At present I am going to put you out in left field, where you can run for flies and throw the ball to the plate, if it's necessary."
The boys who had tried to get on the team and had failed were much disappointed, and Plum and Poole had little difficulty in persuading them to join the rival club, as it got to be called. Then practicing began in earnest, and was kept up nearly every day after school hours.
By the middle of May the weather was perfect for baseball, and it was arranged that the rival clubs of the school should meet on the following Saturday to try conclusions. Everybody was eager for the test, and the entire school assembled, with not a few students from Rockville, to see the game.
"Here is where we show that crowd what we can do," said Plum to Poole. "We ought to whip them out of their hides."
"We will, too," answered the aristocratic youth.
Phil's club went to the bat first, and after several errors on the part of Plum's players managed to get two runs. Then the rival team scored one run, and this score held until the fourth inning, when Phil's side scored three runs and Plum's team one run. The fifth was a "goose egg" for each, and in the sixth Phil made a home run, which brought forth great applause. In the seventh Dave made a beautiful two-base hit, and came in on another two-base hit by Roger. At the end of that inning the score stood, Lawrence's Club, 9; Plum's Club, 5.
"I want you to pitch this next inning," said Phil to Dave.
"Very well, I'll do my best," answered Dave.
When the boy from the country walked out to the slab, Plum and Poole smiled to themselves.
"Now is our chance," whispered Plum, to the boy at the bat. "He isn't half the pitcher that other fellow is. Sock it for keeps." And the batsman nodded, to show that he understood.
Dave measured his distance with care, and sent the sphere in.
"Ball one!" called the umpire. "Too high."
Again the ball came in, but the batsman did not strike at it.
"Strike one!"
"Don't worry, Leeds, take your time," cautioned Plum.
Again the ball was delivered, and Leeds brought his bat around heavily. Up went the sphere into the air. It was a pop fly, and the first baseman caught it with ease.
The next player to the bat was Nat Poole. He had two balls called and then a strike. Then the ball came in swiftly. He struck once more—and missed it.
"Strike two!"
"Be careful," cautioned Gus Plum, who was the player "on deck."
"I know what I'm doing," growled the aristocratic youth.
Once again the sphere came in. Dave had signaled a slow drop. It was a tantalizing ball, and Poole made a wild pass at it.
"Strike three! Batter out!" called the umpire.
"Oh, pshaw!" muttered Nat Poole.
"I told you to be careful," was Plum's comment. "Now, see me land it for a couple of bases. It's dead easy with such a pitcher."
One ball was called and then a strike on the bully. The next time the sphere came in swiftly.
"Strike two!"
The ball went back rapidly to Dave, who looked at the plate just a second and then sent it in like lightning—before Plum could think about hitting it.
"Strike three! Batter out!"
"Go on with you! That was a ball!" yelled Gus Plum. He dashed the bat to the ground. "It was away out."
"It was directly over the plate," said the umpire, and told the truth.
"You're trying to cheat us out of the game," cried Nat Poole. "Why don't you play fair?"
At once a dozen players were talking, and a number of the outside crowd joined in. The majority sided with the umpire.
"It was certainly a strike," said Dave. "It was one of the best balls I pitched."
"That's a fact," came from Roger, who was catching. "Plum is mad because he was struck out, that's all."
"I ain't going to stay here and be cheated!" roared the bully. "I'll throw up the game first!" and he did. The umpire said the game must go to Phil's club, and it did, and Plum was hissed from the playground.
"What a big fool he is!" was Ben's comment. "That was a perfect strike and Plum knows it."
"Some of the other players wanted to finish the game, but Plum wouldn't let them," said Shadow. "They are as mad as hornets." And Hamilton was right; and the bully's club disbanded without another game.
After this unpleasantness the regular Oak Hall nine practiced harder than ever. Dave kept up his work at batting and pitching, and Phil was much pleased with him.
"He has a good eye," said the captain of the club. "He can put a ball just where he wants to," and in this statement Phil was right. It did not matter if Dave was in the field or on the slab, if he wanted to send in the sphere over the plate, or directly to one of the bases, he did it.
The customary challenge had been sent to Rockville and was accepted, the game to be played on the Oak Hall grounds. For the occasion a small grand stand was erected and tastefully decorated with flags and bunting. Both of the schools "chipped in," and hired the Rockville Cornet Band. Many visitors from the vicinity came to see the game, and so did Oliver Wadsworth, Professor Potts, Senator Morr, and Mr. Harris Lawrence, Phil's father. The latter was a heavy-set, pleasant-looking shipping merchant, and shook hands with all the members of the club.
"Phil has been telling me about you," said Mr. Lawrence. "I expect to see a great game," and he laughed heartily.
"What do you think!" whispered Phil to Dave, just before the game started. "Father wants me to leave school next month, and take a trip on one of his ships to some South Sea islands!"
"Leave school and go to the South Seas!" echoed Dave, and his face fell. "We'll be sorry to lose you, Phil. But it will be a glorious outing for you."
"Father wants me to go on some special business. He doesn't want to put it in the supercargo's hands," explained Phil, and then he was called away to another part of the field.
The day was a perfect one, and the crowd was on hand fully half an hour before the great game began. Each club was given fifteen minutes for practice, and then the umpire came forward, watch in hand.
"Time is up," said he. "Get ready."
Rockville had the choice of inning, and sent Oak Hall to the bat. The Military Academy had a left-handed pitcher who was unusually swift, and who could throw a surprising in-shoot. Gasperfelder was his name, and many looked to him to win the game.