the Shortstop (1992) (7 page)

" A suit of clothes goes with that hit, me boy," sang out Cas.

It was plainly a day for Chase and Cas. The Kenton players were at the mercy of the growling pitcher. When they did connect with the ball, sharp fielding prevented safe hits. Chase had eleven chances, some difficult, one particularly being a hard bounder over second base, all of which he fielded perfectly. But on two occasions fast, tricky base !runners deceived him, bewildered him, so that instead of throwing the ball he held it. These plays gave Kenton the two lonely runs chalked up to their credit against seventeen for Findlay.

"Well, we'll give you those tallies," said Cas, swaggering off the field. He had more than kept his threat, for Kenton made but one safe hit.

" Wheeling to-morrow, boys," he yelled in the dressing-room. " We'll take three straight. Say! Did any of you chea
p
skates see my friend Chase hit today? Did you see him? Oh! I guess he didn't put the wood on a few! I guess not! Over the fence and far away! That one is going yet!"

Chase was dumfounded to hear every player speak to him in glowing terms. He thought they had bitterly resented his arrival, and they had; yet here was each one warmly praising his work. And in the next breath they were fighting among themselves. Truly these young men were puzzles to Chase. He gave up trying to understand them.

A loud uproar caused him to turn. The players were holding their sides with laughter, and Cas was doing a Highland fling in the middle of the floor. Mac looked rather white and sick. This struck Chase as remarkable after the decisive victory, and he asked the nearest player what was wrong.

"Oh! nuthin' much ! Mac only swallowed his cigar stub! " It was true, as could be plainly seen from Mac's expression. When the noise subsided he said:

"Shure, I did. Was it any wonder? Seein' this dead bunch come back to life was enough to make me swallow my umbrella. Boys," here a smile lighted up his smug face, "now we've got thet hole plugged at short the pennant is ours. We've got 'em skinned to a frazzle! "

Chapter
VII.

MITTIE-MARU
.

CHASE, you hung bells on 'em yes-tiddy."

Among the many greetings Chase received from the youngsters swarming out to the grounds to see their heroes whip Wheeling, this one struck him as most original and amusing. It was given him by Mittie-Maru, the diminutive hunchback who had constituted himself mascot of the team. Chase had heard of the boy, and had seen him on the day before but not to take any particular notice.

" Let me carry yer bat."

Chase looked down upon a sad and strange little figure. Mittie-Maru did not much exceed a yard in height; he was all misshapen and twisted, with a large head, which was set deep into the hump on his shoulders. He was only a boy, yet he had an almost useless body aid the face of an old man.

Chase hurriedly lifted his gaze, thinking with a pang of self-reproac
h
how trifling was his crooked eye compared to the hideous deformity o
f
this lad.

"Three straight from Wheelin' is all we want," went on Mittie-Maru.

"We'll skin the coal diggers all right, all right. An' we 'll be out in fron
t
trailin' a merry 'Ha ! Ha!' fer Columbus. They're leadin' now, an' of al
l
the swelled bunches I ever seen! Put it to us fer three straight when the
y
was here last. But we got a bad start. There I got sick an' couldn't report
,
an' somehow the team can't win without me. Yestiddy was my first da
y
fer - I don't know how long,-since Columbus trimmed us."

" What was the matter with you?" asked Chase.

"Aw! Nuthin'. Jest didn't feel good," replied the boy. "But I got ou
t
yestiddy, an' see what you done to Kenton! Say, Chase, you take
s
mighty long steps. It ain't much wonder you can cover ground."

Chase modified his pace to suit tha
t
of his companion, and he wanted to take the bat, but Mittie-Mar
u
carried it with such pride and conscious superiority over the enviou
s
small boys who trooped along with them that Chase could not brin
g
himself to ask for it. As they entered the grounds and approached th
e
door of the club-house Mac came out. He wore a troubled look.

"Howdy, Mittie ; howdy, Chase," he said, in a loud voice. Then as h
e
hurried by he whispered close to Chase's ear, " Look out for yourself!"

This surprised Chase so that he hesitated. Mittie-Maru reached th
e
dressing room first and turning to Chase he said; " Somethin' doin', al
l
right, all right ! " This was soon manifest, for as Chase crossed th
e
threshold a chorus of yells met him.

" Here he is - now say it to his face !"

" Salver! "

" Jollier ! "

"You mushy soft-soaper!"

Then terms of opprobrium fell about his ears so thickly that he coul
d
scarcely distinguish them. And he certainl
y
could not understand why they were made. He went to his locker
,
opened it, took out his uniform, and began to undress. Mittie-Mar
u
came and sat beside him. Chase looked about him to see Winters lacin
g
up his shoes and taking no part in the vilification. Benny was drunk.

Meade's flushed face and thick speech showed that he, too, had bee
n
drinking. Even Havil made a sneering remark in Chase's direction.

Chase made note of the fact that Thatcher, Cas, and Speer, one of th
e
pitchers, were not present.

"You're a Molly!" yelled Meade. "Been makin' up to the reporters, haven'
t
you? Fixin' it all right for yourself, eh? Playin' for the newspapers? Wel
l
you'll last about a week with Findlay."

" What do you mean? " demanded Chase.

"Go wan!" shouted the first base man.

"As if you hadn't seen the Chronicle! "

" I haven't," said Chase.

" Flash it on him," cried Meade.

Some one threw a newspaper at Chase
,
and upon opening it to the baseball page he discovered his name in large letters. And he read an account of yesterday's game, which, excepting to mention Cas's fine pitching, made it seem that Chase had played the whole game himself. It was extravagant praise. Chase felt himself grew warm under it, and then guilty at the absence of mention of other players who were worthy of credit. " I don't deserve all that," said he to Meade, "and I don't know how it came to be there."

"You've been salvin' the reporter, jollyin' him."

"No, I haven't."

" You 're a liar!"

A hot flame leaped to life inside Chase. He had never been called that name. Quickly he sprang up, feeling the blood in his face. Then as he looked at Meade, he remembered the fellow's condition, and what he owed to Mac, and others far away, with the quieting affect that he sat down without a word.

A moment later Benny swaggered up to him and shook a fist in his face.

"I 'm a-goin' t' take a bing at yer one skylight an' shut 't for ye."

Chase easily evaded the blow and arose to his feet. "Benny, you 're drunk."

Matters might have become serious then, for Chase, undecided for the moment what to do, would not have overlooked a blow, but the gong ringing for practice put an end to the trouble. The players filed out.

Mittie-Maru plucked at Chase's trousers and whispered, "You ought to 've handed 'em one!"

Chase's work that afternoon was characterized by the same snap and dash which had won him the applause of the audience in the Kenton games. And he capped it with two timely hits that had much to do with Findlay's victory. But three times during the game, to his consternation, Mac took him to task about certain plays. Chase ran hard back of second and knocked down a base-hit, but which he could not recover in time to throw the runner out. It was a splendid play, for which the stands gav
e
him thundering applause. Nevertheless, as he came in to the bench Mac severely reprimanded him for not getting his man. " You've got to move faster 'n thet," said the little manager, testily. "You're slow as an ice-wagon."

And after the game Mac came into the dressing-room, where Chase received a good share of his displeasure.

Didn't you say you knew the game? Well, you're very much on the pazaz today. Now the next time you hit up a fly-ball, don't look to see where it's goin', but run! Keep on runnin'. Fielders muff flies occasionally, an' some day runnin' one out will win a game. An' when you make a base-hit, don't keep on runnin' out to the foul-flag just because it's a single. Always turn for second base, an' take advantage of any little chance to get there. If you make any more dumb plays like thet they'll cost you five each. Got thet?"

Chase was mystified, and in no happy frame of mind when he left the grounds. Evidently what the crowd thought good playing was quite removed from the manager's consideration of such.

" Hol' on, Chase," called Mittie-Maru from behind.

Chase turned to see the little mascot trying to catch up with him. It sud!denly dawned on Chase that the popular idol of the players had taken
a
fancy to him.

"Say, Cas tol' me to tell you to come to his room at the hotel afte
r
supper."

" I wonder what he wants. Did he say ?"

" No. But it's to put you wise, all right, all right. Cas is a good feller. M
e
an' him has been friends. I heard him say to Mac not to roast you th
e
way he did. An' I wants to put you wise to somethin' myself. Mac's stuc
k
on you. He can't keep a smile off his face when you walk up to the plate
,
an' when you cut loose to peg one acrost he jest stutters. Oh! he's stuc
k
on you, all right, all right! `Boys, will you look at thet wing?' he keep
s
sayin'. An' when you come in he says you're rotten to yer face. Don'
t
mind Mac's roasts."

All of which bewildered Chase only the more. Mittie-Maru chattered about baseball and the players, but he was extremely reticent in regard to himself. this latter fact, in conjunction with his shabby appearance, made Chase think that all was not so well with the lad as it might have been. He found himself returning Mittie-Maru's regard. "Good-bye," said Mittie-Maru at a cross street. " I go down here. See you to-morrer."

After supper Chase went to the hotel, and seeing that Cas was not among the players in the lobby, he found his room number, and with no little curiosity mounted the stairs.

"Come in," said Cas, in answer to his knock.

The big pitcher sat in his shirt sleeves blowing rings of smoke out of the open window.

"Hello, Chase; was waiting for you. Have a cigar. Don't smoke? Throw yourself round comfortable - but say, lock the door first. I don't want any one butting in."

Chase found considerable relief and pleasure in the friendly manner o
f
Findlay's star pitcher.

" I want to have a talk with you, Chase. First, you won't mind a couple o
f
questions."

" Not at all. Fire away."

"You're in dead earnest about this baseball business? "

" I should say I am."

" You are dead set on making it a success? "

" I 've got to." Chase told Cas briefly what depended on his efforts.

" I thought as much. Well, you'll find more than one fellow trying th
e
same. Baseball is full of fellows taking care of mothers and fathers an
d
orphans, too. People who pay to see the game and keep us fellows goin
g
don't know just how much good they are doing. Well, Chase, it take
s
more than speed, a good eye, and a good arm and head to mak
e
success."

" How so? "

"It's learning how to get along with managers and players. I 've been i
n
th
e
game ten years. Most every player who has been through the mill will le
t
the youngster find out for himself, let him sink or swim. Even manager
s
will not tell you everything. It's baseball ethics. I'm overstepping i
t
because - well, because I want to. I don't mind saying that you 're th
e
most promising youngster I ever saw. Mac is crazy about you. All th
e
same, you won't last two weeks on the Findlay team, or a season in fas
t
company, unless you change."