the Shortstop (1992) (12 page)

" I can," instantly replied the Dude throwing a bill into Cas's hat.

Ball players fight out rivalries even in their charities. Cas glance
d
grandly down on the Dude, and then passed to Havil.

"The pot 's opened for five," he said to Havil. Next to shooting shot, Havi
l
liked best a game of poker. In a flash he had contributed to the growin
g
fund.

" I 'm in, and it costs two more to play," he replied.

"Hicks, come on."

" Cas, I'm broke, an' Mac won't give me a cent till Saturday night,"
a
nswered Hicks.

" Borrow, then," rejoined Cas, curtly. He threw his roll of bills into th
e
catcher's lap.

Chase and several of the other players were ready for Cas, and s
o
escaped calumny. Enoch mildly expostulated. " I 'm gettin' tired of bein'
b
uncoed this way," he remarked.

"Produce. Ain't you the captain? Don't you draw the biggest salary?

Produce," went on the inexorable Cas.

" But, Cas, you're always helpin' some beggar or other."

" Wha-at ! " demanded Cas hotly. "It was only last week you touched th
e
team for a nigger hobo. Produce!"

Enoch meekly produced.

" Wha 's the matter? " inquired Benny, lounging out of the hotel door. A
s
usual he was under the influence of drink.

" Hol' on, Cas -gee! Wha 's all the dough for? Lemme in."

"Never mind, Benny," replied Cas. " Just raising a little collection for Ji
m
Ayers' wife. Remember Jim?"

" Got drunk with Jim many a time - hol' on there. Wha's the matter? I
s
my money counterfeit?"

Benny was the most improvident of fellows. He seldom had any money.

And his bad habit excluded him from many of the plans and pleasures o
f
his comrades. "Say, Benny, this isn't a matter of the price of a beer,"
r
eplied Cas, moving toward the corner.

Benny straightened up. " You're only kiddin' me - if I thought you mean
t
that for an insult - say! I'
m
Just as much a sport an' gennelman as you, any day."

Thereupon Benny soberly thrust his hand into his pocket, pulled out a bill and some silver, soberly turned the pocket inside out to get the small change, and with great dignity dropped all the money into Cas's hat.

Chapter
X.

MARJORY AND POND-LILIES
.

IT was July second, and Chase was happy. Many things had occurred to make him so; summed up, they made a great beautiful whole. The team had won fourteen straight victories before dropping a game to Columbus, and had come home in first place. He had kept up his good work, especially at the bat.

Friends he had made everywhere. What a rousing welcome Findlay had given its team on home-coming! On the first of the month he had drawn one hundred dollars and had sent it home to his mother. While in Columbus Mac had taken him to see a surgeon, a wonderful specialist, who had injected something into the corner of his crooked eye, had cut a muscle or ligament, and then bound a little black cap over the eye, cautioning him to wear it till a certain time. Chase had managed to play with only one eye, but now the time was up. That mornin
g
he had temporarily slipped off the black cap to find he did not recognize the straight glanced, clear-eyed person in the mirror.

Then there was another thing, which, though he would hardly admit it to his own consciousness, had more than all else added a brightness to his day. An exceptionally large and enthusiastic audience had attended yesterday's game, and in the grandstand, sitting among a merry crowd of young people, he had seen golden hair and blue eyes that he knew. He looked again to make sure. It was Marjory
. A
nd the whole grandstand seemed to grow gayer and brighter, the shrill cries of excited rooters had a joyous ring, the very sky and field took on a warmer color. The wonder of wonders was, that at a critical stage of the game, when by fast sprinting he scored a run, and was passing by the stand, he looked up to catch wonderfully, in all that sea of faces and waving hats, a smile meant for him.

Even the abuse of his fellow-players, renewed doubly since the home-coming
,
had no power to affect him after that smile. And a significant remark of Mittie-Maru's had further enhanced the spell. "I've fixed it fer you, all right, all right. You mosey out along the river. See !"

Chase had turned hot and cold at Mittie's speech, had lamely questioned him further, but nothing more, except elaborate winks, could be elicited from the mascot.

And all this was why Chase was happy and roaming wild in the meadows. It was a soft, warm summer morning. The larks were turning their black-spotted yellow breasts to the sun and singing their sweet songs. Chase tramped and tramped, and ever resolutely tried to turn away from the maple-grove along the river
. B
ut every circle led that way, and he found himself at last in the shade of the trees. Through the bushes he caught a glance of the cool river, and then he saw a boat and a glimpse of blue and a gleam of gold. He tried to run away, but could not. His steps led hi
m
down the sandy path to the huge old maple.

"Good-morning, Mr. Chase. Why, aren't you lost?" Marjory's blue eye
s
regarded him in laughing surprise.

Chase had a vague thought that somehow he was lost, but all he coul
d
think of to say was that the weather was fine for the time of year. " It is !lovely," she said.

Then he had a brilliant thought, and he wondered why it had not com
e
sooner. " Were - you going to - row? "

" Oh, yes. I always row every morning."

" Might I - would you - I - I like to row."

" You do? How nice! Then you must row me up to the meadow-pon
d
where the lilies grow."

Chase awkwardly got into the boat. Whatever was wrong with his hand
s
and feet? When he had seated himself and straightened the oars h
e
began to row. She was very close to him. He had not looked up, but h
e
saw her little feet and the blue hem of her gown.

" You 're rowing into the bank, " she said.

"Why -so I am." Hastily he turned out and then was careful to ro
w
straight. The boat glided smoothly and silently. The little rive
r
meandered between high green banks. Tall trees cast shadows on th
e
water. Here were dark patches of shade, there golden spaces of sun!shine. Birds were flitting and singing.

"Have you seen Mittie-maru? " asked Chase.

"Yes, indeed. Lots of times. I've seen his den and fished with him an
d
we've rowed after pond-lilies and had fine times together."

What was there in her simple, kind words to make him feel so strangel
y
toward Mittie? Of course he was glad she had been with Mittie, bu
t
somehow the gladness was an entirely new thing. All at once h
e
discovered he was sorry that the Findlay team had to play games on th
e
road. If it had not been for that he could have helped her give Mittie
a
good time.

"Here's the pond," said Marjory.

"It's very shallow, so you must be careful or we 'll stick in the mud." Chase saw that the river widened out into a large basin. There were islands, and bogs, and piles of driftwood. The green and gold and white of pond-lilies sparkled on all sides. The place was alive with birds and water denizens. Kingfishers resented the invasion; water-wagtails skimmed the surface and screamed plaintive cries. Turtles splashed off stumps and frogs plunked under the lily pads. Snakes sunned themselves in bright places. And a great gray crane stood solemnly on one leg and watched.

" I want a pink one," said Marjory, after Chase had gathered a mass of dripping lilies. He rowed around the pond, and at last located a lily of the desired color, but could not reach it from the boat. He stepped out upon a log and stretched as far as he could reach.

" Oh ! You'll fall in! " cried Marjory, in sweet solicitude.

Chase slipped off the log and went in with a great splash. The water came up to his waist. He managed by graspin
g
a branch to avert a worse disaster, and securing the coveted pink lily, climbed back upon the log and so got into the boat.

"You shouldn't have done that," she said. "It's nothing. I 'll dry in a little while."

Then they both laughed. Chase rowed back to the bank and placed the boat so that Marjory was in the shade of an overhanging grape-vine, and he sat out in the sun. Somehow her merry laughter had given him courage, so he raised his glance to look at her. She had been only pretty before. Now! But the blue of her eyes meeting his drove away his thoughts.

" When will you be able to - to take off that eye-shield?" she asked. " Why - how did you know? " he asked, breathlessly.

" I heard, and I read the baseball notes every day."

"You do?" exclaimed Chase. Then he took off the shield and threw i
t
away.

" Oh ! I'm glad. But - but are you sure it's time."

" Yes. I only waited because - well that is - I - I wanted you to see m
e
first."

This appeared to be an unfortunate remark, for Marjory colored a sof
t
rose under her white cheeks, and began diligently to sort the lilies.

"Mittie-maru will be glad," said Chase.

"If only he could be cured, too!" she replied. "Do you know he suffers al
l
the time, and sometimes dreadfully, yet he never says a word?"

Yes, I know. Poor Mittie ! " Chase found it much easier to talk, now sh
e
avoided looking at him. "You were at the game yesterday. Do you lik
e
baseball? "

" Oh, yes, indeed. I like the running, and I love to see the ball flying, bu
t
I don't understand much of the game."

" Won't you let me teach you? " "Thank you, that would be nice, but I '
m
so stupid."

" Stupid! You? " Chase laughed at the hint of such an impossibility. A
b
lu
e
flitting gleam flashed upon him from under the long lashes. " Oh, I am.

Now what is a bingo?

" A bingo ? Why that's baseball talk for a safe hit, a ball knocked safel
y
out of the reach of a fielder."

" What does Captain Winters mean when he hops round the base an
d
yells 'Mugg's Landing! Irish stew! Ras-patas' ? "

"He's coaching then, saying any old thing to try to rattle the pitcher."

" Oh, is that it? What do you do with a base after you steal it?"

"Stealing a base means to run from first to second, or from second t
o
third, without being put out. It really means stealing the distance, no
t
the base."

" What's a foul?"

" A ball hit any way back of the white lines running from home-plate t
o
first and third base."

" What's a knocker? A fellow who gives the ball a knock?"

"That's more baseball talk. A fellow who speaks ill of another is
a
knocker."

" Oh, but doesn't he play the gam
e
Too? I heard Mr. Winters say he was captain and first knocker. I '
m
surprised about him. He has such a nice face."

"Captain Winters meant he was the first batter."

" Then why did he say he was first knocker? Oh! - you see I 'm stupid. I
k
new you'd see it."

" I haven't seen it."

"You have. You as much as said so. I won't go to any more games." Th
e
flash of reproachful fire and the glimpse of a petulant face tha
t
accompanied the words caused a sinking of Chase's heart. What in th
e
world had he said?

" Marjory - " he cried. Then at the sound of his voice, at his boldness i
n
so addressing her, he halted and began to fumble over his wet shoes an
d
squeeze the water out of his coat. There was a long silence. He dared no
t
look up. How quiet she was! How angry she must be!