the Shortstop (1992) (2 page)

" Let's beat it," whispered one, in the sudden silence. "Here comes a brake."

The train had stopped. Footsteps grated outside, and streaks of light flickered into the car. Chase saw two men jump from the door and heard a brake man accost them. He lay there trembling. What if the brakeman flashed his light into the car? What would be seen in the other corner? But the footsteps died away. Before he noticed it the train got in motion again; and he lay there wavering till the speed became so great that he dared not jump off.

To ride with a dead thief was not so frightful as to ride with a live one, thought Chase, but it was bad enough. His mind began to focus on one point, that he must get out of the car, and the more he thought the more fearful grew his state. While he lay there the train rolled on and the time flew by. All at once it appeared the blackness had given way to gray shadow. It grew lighter and lighter. He rose and went to the door. Day was dawning.

The train was approaching a hamlet, and ran parallel with a dusty road. Without a second's hesitation Chase leaped from the car. Through a rush of wind he alighted on his feet, bounced high, to fall heavily and roll over and over in the dust.

Chapter
III.

FAME
.

CHASE would have sustained worse bruises than he got to rid himself of the atmosphere of that car. When he was once free of it, however, he fell to wondering if the negro were really killed. Perhaps he had only been wounded and was in need of assistance that Chase could have rendered. This thought cut him, but he dismissed it from mind, and addressed himself once more to his problem.

The village consisted of a few cottages; there was no railroad station, and on a siding stood a car marked T. & O. C. Chase sat in the grass beside the track, and did not know whether to walk on or wait for another train. Meanwhile the sun rose warm and bright, shining on the bursting green leaves; meadowlarks sang in a field near by, and flocks of blackbirds winged irregular flight overhead.

That May morning was ful
l
of life and hope for Chase, but even so, when two hours passed by with no train or even person putting in appearance, he began to grow restless and presently made a remarkable discovery. He was hungry. He had not given a thought to such a thing as eating. It was rather discomfiting to awaken to the fact that even in quest of fortune meals were necessary.

A column of blue smoke was curling lazily from one of the cottages, and thither Chase made his way. He knocked on the kitchen door, which was opened by a woman.

" Good-morning," said Chase. " May I have a bite to eat?" "You ain't a tramp?" queried she, eying him shrewdly. "No, indeed. I can pay."

" I thought not. Tramps don't say Good-mornin. I reckon you kin hev somethin'. Sit on the bench there." She brought him milk, and bread and butter, and a generous slice of ham. While he was eating, a boy came out to gaze at him with round eyes, and later
a
lanky man with pointed beard walked up the path, his boots wet wit
h
dew.

" Mornin'," he said cheerily, " be yew travellin' fur? "

" Quite far, I guess," replied Chase. "How far is Columbus, or the first bi
g
place? "

" Wal, now, Columbus is a mighty long way, much as fifty miles, I
c
alkilate. An' the nearest town to hum here is Jacktown, cross field
s
some five miles. It's a right pert place. It'll be lively today, by gum! "

"Why?" said Chase, with his mouth full of ham.

" Wal, Jacktown an' Brownsville hev it out today, an' I'll bet it'll be th
e
dog-gondest ball game as ever was."

"Ball game!"

" You bet. Jacktown ain't ever been beat, an' nuther has Brownsville.

They've been some time gittin' together, but today's the day. An' I'll b
e
there."

"I'm going, too," said Chase, quietly. "I'm a ball player." After Chase ha
d
crossed this Rubico
n
he felt more confident. He knew he would have to say it often, and h
e
wanted practice. And the importance of his declaration was at onc
e
manifest in the demeanor of the man and the boy.

" Wal, I swan! You be, be you? I might hev knowed it, a strappin' youn
g
feller like you."

The boy's round eyes grew rounder and took on the solemn rapture o
f
hero worship.

"How might I find my way to Jacktown?" inquired Chase.

"You might wait an' ride with me. Thet road leads over, round about. Yo
u
can't miss it."

"Thank you, I shan't wait. I'll walk over. Good-day." Chase headed int
o
the grassy lane without knowing exactly why. The word " game " ha
d
attracted him, as well as the respective merits of the two teams; but i
t
was mostly that he wanted to play. After consideration, it struck hi
m
that he would do well to get into a few games before he made applicatio
n
to a salaried team.

He spent the morning lounging along, the green lane, sitting under a tree, and on a mossy bank of a brook, and killing time in pretty places, so that when he reached Jacktown it was noon.

At the little tavern where he had lunch the air was charged with the electricity of a coming storm. The place was crowded with youths and men of homely aspect; all were wildly excited over the baseball game. He was regarded with an extraordinary amount of interest; and finally, when a tall individual asked him if he were a ball player, to be answered affirmatively, there was a general outburst.

" He's a ringer! Brownsville knowed they 'd git beat with their home team, so they've loaded up ! "

That was the burden of their refrain, and all Chase's stout denials in no wise mitigated their suspicion. He was a " ringer." To them he was an object of scorn and fear, for he had come from somewhere out of the vast unknown to wrest their laurels from them.

Outside little groups had congregated on corners and in the street, and sud!
d
enly, as by one impulse, they gathered in a crowd before the tavern. Ample reason there was for this, because some scout had sighted the approach of the visiting team. Chase gathered that Brownsville was an adjoining country town, and, since time out of mind, a hated rival.

Wagons and buggies, vehicles of all kinds and descriptions, filed by on the way to the ball-grounds; and a hay-wagon with a single layer of hay and a full load of husky young men, stopped before the tavern. The crowd inspected the load of young men with an anxiety most manifest, and soon remarks were heard testifying that the opposing team had grace enough to come with but one ringer.

The excitement, enthusiasm, and hubbub were amusing to Chase. He knew nothing of the importance of a game of ball between two country towns. While he was standing there a slim, clean-faced young man came up to him.

"My name's Hutchinson," he said. " I'm the school-teacher over at Brownsville. and I'm here to catch the game fo
r
our fellows. Now, it appears there's some fuss about you being a ringer. We don't know you, and we don't care what Jacktown thinks. But the fact is, our pitcher hurt his arm and can't play. Either we play or forfeit the game. If you can pitch we'll be glad to have you. How about it?"

Chase assented readily, and moved to the hay-wagon with Hutchinson, while the crowd hooted and yelled. Small boys kept up a running pace with the wagon, and were not above flinging pebbles along with shouts of defiance. At the end of the village opened up a broad green meadow, upon which was the playground. There was a barn to one side, where the wagon emptied its load; and here the young men went within to put on their uniforms.

The uniform handed to Chase was the one belonging to the disabled pitcher, who must have been a worthy son of Ajax. For Chase was no stripling, yet he was lost in its reach and girth. The color of it stunned him. Brightest of bright red flannel, trimmed with whit
e
stripes, with white cotton stockings, this gorgeous suit voiced the rustic lads' enthusiasm for the great national gam
e
But when Chase went outside and saw the uniforms decorating the proud persons of the Jacktown nine he could hardly suppress a wild burst of mirth. For they wore blue caps, pink shirts, green trousers, and red stockings. Most of them were minus shoes, and judging from their activity were as well off without them. What was most striking to Chase, after the uniforms, was the deadly earnestness of the players of both teams. This attitude toward the game extended to the spectators crowding on the field. Chase did not need to be told that the whole of Jacktown was present and much of Brownsville.

Hutchinson came up to Chase then, tossed a ball to him, and said they had better have a little practice. After Chase had warmed up he began throwing the ball with greater speed and giving it a certain twist which made it curve. This was something he had recently learned. At first Hutchinson was plainly mysti!fied he could not get his hands on the ball. It would hit him on the fingers or wrists, and finally a swift in-shoot struck him in the stomach. Wherefore he carne up to Chase and said:

I never saw a ball jump like that. Whataed you do to it? "IAEm throwing curves."

A light broke over the school-master's face, and it was one of pleasure.

"I've read about it. You are throwing the new way. But these lads never heard of a curve. They'll break their backs trying to hit the ball. Now tell me how I shall know when you are going to throw a curve.'

" You sign for what you want. When you kneel back of the batter sign t
o
me, one finger for fastball, two fingers for a curve."

" Good! " cried Hutchinson.

After a little more practice he managed with the aid of his lately acquired knowledge to get in front of Chase's curves and to stop them. Presently a pompous individual wearing the Jacktown uniform came up to Chase and Hutchinson.

" Battin' order," he said, waving his pencil.

Hutchinson gave the names of his players, and when he mentioned Chase's the Jacktown man either misunderstood or was inclined to be facetious.

" Chaseaway ? Is thet his name ? Darn me, if he won't chase away to the tall timber."

He was the captain, and with a great show of authority called both teams round the home plate for the purpose of being admonished, lectured, and told how to play the game by the umpire. Chase had not seen this official, and when he did see him his jaw dropped. The umpire wore skin-tight velveteen knee-trousers, black stockings, and low shoes with buckles. His striped shirt was arranged in a full blouse, and on the side of his head was stuck very wonderfully a small, jaunty cap. He addressed the players as if he were the arbiter of fate, and he lifted his voice so that the audience could receive the benefit of his eloquence and understand perfectly the irrevocable nature of the decision h
e
was about to render. In conclusion, he recited a number of baseball rules in general and ground-rules in particular, most remarkable in themselves and most glaringly designed to favor the home team. Chase extracted from the complexity of one of these rules that on a passed ball behind the catcher, or an overthrow at first, when Jacktown was at bat the player could have all the bases he could make; and when Brownsville was at bat, for some inscrutable reason, this same rule did not hold.

Then this master of ceremonies ordered the Jacktown team into the field, tripped like a ballet-dancer to his position behind the catcher, and sang out in a veritable clarion blast: " P-l-a-e-y B-a-w-l ! "

Chase could scarcely remove his gaze from the umpire, but as his turn to bat came in the first inning he directed his attention to the Jacktown pitcher. He remembered that some one had said this important member of the Jacktowns was the village blacksmith.

After one glance, Chase did not doubt it. The pitcher was a man of enormous build and his bare
d
right arm looked like a branch of a rugged oak-tree. The first ball he shot toward the home-plate resembled a thin white streak.

" O-n-e S-t r-i-e-k-e ! " shrieked the umpire.

Two more balls similar to the first retired the batter, and three more per!formed the same office for the second batter. It was Chase's turn next. He was a natural hitter, and had perfect confidence. But as the first ball zipped past him, looking about the size of a pea, he knew he had never before faced such terrific speed.

Nor did he have power to see in that farmer blacksmith one of the greatest pitchers the game was ever to produce. Chase struck at the next two balls and was called out. Then the Jacktown players trooped in, to the wild clamor of their supporters.

When Chase saw some of the big Jacktown fellows swing their bats he knew he would have an easy time with them, for they stood with their feet wide apart, and held their bats with the left hand over the right, which made a clean
,
straight swing impossible. He struck out the first three batters on nine pitched balls.