the Shortstop (1992) (21 page)

The big knots stood out and rippled on the rail-splitter's arms. He was not lost to his opportunity. And there were friends and admirers from his native town there to see, to glory in his glory. He struck out three successive Columbus hitters and the hopeless crowd took a little heart.

" What'll I do, Mittie ? " asked Chase, picking out his bat. "They're playing deep fer you. Dump one down third."

Chase placed a slow teasing bunt down the third-base line and raced with all his speed for first. The play was not even close. It was his third hit. Havil looked at Mittie. The new manager said, " Bunt towards first." The second ball pitched, Havil laid down as if by hand along the first-base line. Two on bases, no one out ! The crowd awoke.

"Now fer mine, Mittie?" asked Benny. "We'll try a double steal. It's not good baseball, but we'll try it. Swin
g
wild on the ball an' balk the catcher. If the play goes through jest tap the next ball down in the infield."

Benny fell all over himself and all over the catcher. Chase dove into third and Havil reached second. The bleachers began to yell and stamp. As Ward got into motion with his swing Chase started home. It happened that the ball was a slow one, and Chase seemed to be beating it to the plate. Everybody gasped. Then Benny tapped the ball down in the in-field and broke for first. The play bewildered the pitcher, catcher, and third-baseman. Chase scored, Havil went to third, and Benny reached first.

Then the shrill cries, the whistles, the tin horns and clapping hands showed that the crowd had awakened fully to possibilities. Ford hit into deep short, who threw to second to catch Benny. The play was a close one, and Silk's decision favored the runner. Havil scored. Two runs scored, two men on bases, and nobody out! Roar on roar!

Through it all the little ragged hunchback sat coldly impervious. His fire raged deep. The years of pain and hopeless longing, the boyish hopes never to be fulfilled, had their recompense in that hour of glory. For victory shone in his piercing eyes. To a man, the players now believed in him, as boy, as manager, as genius, as baseball luck.

Speer bunted better than he hit, a fact of which Mittie took advantage. "Lay one down to Wilson." Wilson divined the play, came rushing in, picked up the bunt with one hand, and made a splendid throw. One out, runners on second and third! Hicks was a poor hitter in a pinch, another fact Mittie remembered.

" Work a base on balls. Work hard, now ! "

The contortions old man Hicks went through would have disconcerted most pitchers. Ward threw three balls for Hicks, then two strikes, and the next one, straight over, seemed a little high. Everybody gasped again.

"Four balls!" called Silk. The crowd broke out afresh. One out, three runners on bases ! Ziegler, battin
g
for Castorious, hit a mean, twisting grounder between short and third. Both men went after it, knocked it down between them, but too late to catch the hitter. Another run scored, and the bases full! How the bleachers screamed!

" Bing one, Cap ! " said Mittie, from the heights.

Enoch met the first ball squarely. It sailed fast and true into the second-baseman's hands. The runners had no chance to move. " O-h-h ! Hard luck! " moaned the crowd.

"Never mind thet. Stick at 'em!" cried Mittie, jumping down from his perch." A couple more hits an' the game's on ice. Dude, poke one to left. Don't swing. Jest poke one over the in-field. "

Thatcher went to bat while Enoch ran to the coacher's box and began to yell and screech, to tear up the grass with his spikes, to give every indication of insanity. Thatcher was remorselessly unanxious. He made Ward split the plate, and at last with three and two h
e
placed a short fly back of third. Another runner scored.

Two out, bases full, one run to tie! Mittie-Maru suddenly lost all his quiet; he jumped at Chase and clasped him with small, claw-like hands; his eyes shone on Chase with a power that was hypnotic. And through that gleam of power beamed his friendship and hope and faith.

" Chase, somethin' tol' me it would hang fire fer you! Now! Now ! My Star of the Diamond, it 's up to you. If ever in yer life you put the wood on do it now!" When Chase hurried up to the plate, the great crowd rose and shouted one long sharp cry, and sank into intense silence. The situation was too critical for anything but suspended breath.

Enoch's coaching pealed over the field. Oh! My! Mugg's Landin' ! Irish stew! Lace curtains! Ras-pa-tas ! We're a-goin' to do it ! We can't be stopped now. Oh My! They're takin' him out! They need another pitcher! "

The Columbus captain sent Ward to the bench and ordered out Henson, a left-hander. As he nervously rubbed the ball, Enoch broke loose again.

" Henson, look who's at the bat! " he yelled, in terrible tones. " It's Chase ! He 's leadin' the league ! aeOh ! Oh ! My ! Mugg's Landin' -! "

If ever Chase felt like flint, the time was then. He heard nothing. He saw nothing but the pitcher. It seemed he called upon all his faculties to help his eyesight. His whole inner being swelled with emotions that he subordinated to deadly assurance. Henson took his swing and sent up a fast ball. Chase watched it speed by. "Ball!" called Silk.

Henson swung again. Chase got the range of the ball, stepped forward, and, with his straight, clean, powerful sweep, met it fairly. " Bing ! " It rang off like a bell.

The crowd burst into thunder. When Chase's liners started off so, only the fence stopped them. This one shot for the corner behind centre-field. For one instant everybody thought the ball wa
s
going over, but it hit a bill-board and bounced back.

What a long, booming, hoarse and thrilling roar rent the air! Two runners scored, and Thatcher was coming fast. Then in the wild moment all grasped that Chase, with his wonderful fleetness, was gaining on Thatcher. His fair hair streamed in the wind; his beautiful stride swallowed up the distance. The centre-fielder got the ball and threw to Starke, who had run out to receive the throw. As Chase, now close to Thatcher, turned third, Starke lined the ball home. Every heart was bursting; every eye was staring.

The women were screaming, " Run, boy ! Run, boy! Oh! run!-. run ! run!

" yet could not hear their own voices.

The men were roaring, " On! On! On! A-h-h ! "

The Findlay players leaped like warriors round a stake. Mittie-Maru ran toward the plate. Starke's great throw sped on! Thatcher scored ! "Slide, Chase, slide ! " In one blended roar the whole crowd voiced a fear, awful at the moment.

Chase slid in a flash of dust across the plate, a fraction of time ahead of the ball. It bounded low, glanced off the catcher's glove, and struck Mittie, who whirled late, fairly on his hump. Poor Mittie went down as if he had been shot, spun round like a top, and lay still.

But few on the field saw this accident. The crowd had gone into a sort of baseball delirium tremens. Chase had made a home run inside the grounds, scoring four more runs! A thunderbolt out of the clear sky would have passed unnoticed.

Somebody carried Mittie into the dressing-room. The game went on. Poke blanked the Columbus players inning after inning. The heart was taken out of them. Findlay won. Before a weak, voiceless, shaken, di!shevelled, happy crowd the score went up.

Findlay 11, Columbus 8.

Inside the dressing-room the players grouped silently, with pale faces, around a space where a doctor worked over Mittie-Maru. A cold hand gripped their hearts. The doctor kept shaking hi
s
head and working, working; still the little misshapen form lay huddled in a small heap, the pale, distorted face showed no sign of life.

" Ah ! " breathed the doctor, in sudden relief.

Mittie-Maru began to stir. He twisted, his narrow breast heaved, he moaned in pain, he broke into incoherent speech. Then, as consciousness fully returned, he lived over the last play he had seen.

" Steady - Chase, ole man - eagle. eye, now ole boy -lay back an' bing the next one -- Oh-h! Run, Chase ! Up On yer toes ! Now yer flyin' -- make it a triple ! Come on! - Come on ! Come on --- on - on! It 's a homer ! It's a homey ! It 's a homer ! "

Chapter
XVI.

LAST INNINGS
.

IT was Wednesday following the great Saturday game. Chase hurried t
o
his room where he had taken Mittie after the accident. He found the la
d
sitting up, a little wan, but bright and expectant.

"All over, Mittie !" shouted Chase. "The season's over; the championshi
p
is ours; today was the last game, and the directors made it a benefit fo
r
the team. Bully of them, wasn't it?"

" No more 'n square. The team 's made barrels of money. Wot'd you d
o
today.

" Oh, made Mac sore, as usual."

" How? "

" Well, we smothered Mansfield in an inning or so, and then Mac wante
d
us to lay down, strike out, make the game short. Now I 'd have to try t
o
bing one, even if my life were threatened. So I caught one on the nose
,
and, by George! Mittie
,
I hit it over the fence, and the ball broke a window in Mrs. Magee'
s
house. Mac 'll have to pay damages. Say, but wasn't he sore!"

" Thet makes six homers fer you, Chase, on our own grounds. An' you'v
e
had fourteen triples, an' only three doubles. It's strange 'bout thet. Mos
t
fellars git more doubles. But you're so dinged fast on yer feet thet you '
d
stretch most any double into a triple. Gimme them long liner triples fe
r
mine!"

"Mittie, how're you feeling? How about the banquet to-night?"

"I'll go, you bet. I'd be out home long ago, if you hedn't made me promis
e
to stay here."

" Mittie, I 've had some ideas working in my mind the last few days, an
d
now everything's settled. You're going to live with me."

" Am I --? " began Mittie, rebelliously.

" Yes."

" I 've got a tin-type of myself spongin' on you here - "

" Not here, Mittie. I have bought that white cottage in the maple grove b
y
th
e
River. And I've had it all fixed up. It 's now ready for the furnishings. In a few days I'll write to mother and Will to pack their duds and come on. Maybe we won't surprise them! You 'll come out there to live with us. There's a dandy little room next to mine and it 'll be yours. You'll like Will, and you'll love mother. She's the sweet est - "

" I ain't a-goin' to do it," cried Mittie, in a queer, strangled voice. The old, resolute strength had gone from it.

" Yes, you are. I'm big enough to carry you out there and tie you if necessary. Then I've got another idea. You know that little alcove next to King's store ? Well, there's one there. I've had a carpenter measure it, and he 's going to build a wee little stand there. You and I are going into business, cigars, tobacco, candy, etc.

I furnish capital, you manage affairs, we divide profits. Why, it's a gold mine! There's not a place of that kind in town. Everybody knows you, everybody wants to do something for you. Didn't you eve
r
think of selling things? There's money in it."

" Chase; it'd - be - grand," said Mittie. " I 'll do it -I 'll - Chase, if you ain't the best ever! But haven't you - any idees fer yerself ? "

Then Mittie-Maru, the defiant, the Spartan lad, the sufficient-unto-himself, the scorner of emotions, the dweller in lonesome places, covered his face and sobbed as might any of the boys whom he ridiculed. But his weakness did not last long. "Chase, I 'll be dinged if thet soak I got in the game Saturday hasn't give me softenin' of the brain," he said, and smiled through his tears.

Chase had seen the light of that smile in his mother's eyes; and in the eyes of another of whom he must not think. For a moment a warm wave thrilled over him and he felt himself sway beneath its influence. He had done his best for his mother; he had done right by Marjory; he had waited and waited. So he made himself think of other things, of the new home, of peace for his mother, of ambi!
t
ion for Will, of companionship with Mittie, of his opening career.

" Come, Mittie, we must fix up in style for the dinner to-night, and it's time we were at it." When they reached the hotel Mac made a grab for Chase and beamed on him.

" Chase, old boy, shure things are comin' great. Cas goes to Cleveland fer a try-out. I've sold Benny to Cincinnati an' you to Detroit. Burke offered twelve hundred fer you on Saturday, but I held out fer fifteen. An' I got the check to-night. I promised you one-third if you hit 400, an' you've gone an' hit 416. Chase, thet's awful fer a first season. You lead the league. An' tomorrow you git yer five hundred bucks. Burke wrote me to tell you he'd send the contract. He offers two thousand. So you're on, an' I'm tickled to death. I've made you a star an' you've made me a manager."

Somebody else made a grab for Chase. It was judge Meggs, who congratulated him warmly. Then Chase, with Mittie!