The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal Part 5

Finally the game was called and soon both teams were on the field. Hiram, captain of the Eagles, won the toss and chose to go to bat first. The game was started. Nelson promptly struck out. He could not help making a wry face as he threw down the willow.

A broad grin was on Jared's face. He went through all sorts of antics, as Andy Bowles came to bat with a look of grim determination on his face.

Jared was good; that was a fact which admitted no blinking, as the Eagles had to acknowledge. Andy was given first base on b.a.l.l.s, tried to steal second, was thrown out and retired disgruntled to the bench. The Hampton rooters began to give their war cry. The Eagle supporters replied to it bravely. It was early in the game to be making any predictions. Rob was third batter. He struck out. Jared's delight was ill-concealed.

"I'll shut 'em out," he bragged loudly, not caring who heard. "I'll show the tin soldiers some pitching."

The Eagle supporters had to admit that things did not look very roseate, but they consoled themselves by recollecting the fact that practically the game had only begun.

Hampton now went to the bat. Merritt occupied the pitcher's box. He had injured his arm somewhat in practice, but it was agreed, after a consultation, to put him up as first pitcher, holding Rob in reserve till they got the Hampton's gait. Merritt showed wonderful form. In one, two, three order he struck out Hampton's batters, including Jared.

Great was the delight of the Eagles and their friends.

"Good boy, Merritt! Good for you! Kr-e-e-e-ee-ee!" was heard on all sides as the Hamptons came running out to take their positions in the field.

Merritt felt a glow of pleasure as Rob congratulated him.

"I hope I can keep it up," was all he said.

"I hope so, too; but I'd like to have a chance at Jared," responded Rob.

The Eagles now came to the bat, Rob leading. Rob was not only a good pitcher but a sure batter. Whiz-z came Jared's ball. Rob met it and promptly drove a humming liner into right field. It was a safe base hit.

"Oh, you Eagles!" chanted the crowd; those of them who were not lined up for Hampton, that is.

Rob watched his chance and stole second, to the huge delight of his team supporters. An ugly look was on Jared's face. The next batter, Merritt, received first base on four b.a.l.l.s. Cheers and yells greeted this. Jared's countenance grew blacker and blacker. He bit his lip impatiently.

Suddenly Rob played dangerously off second base. The Hampton second baseman was close to him. It was a daring move. Jared saw it in a flash.

The catcher's signal came. He threw the ball to the Hampton short stop on second base.

But Jared's chagrin at the way his pitching was being "knocked about"

unsteadied his aim. He threw wild. The ball pa.s.sed above the short stop's outstretched finger tips. Rob darted off for third base like a jack rabbit.

The right fielder got the ball and shot it to third base, but, although the ball and Rob seemed to arrive simultaneously, Rob was hugging the bag contentedly in the nick of time. This was a quick, stirring bit of play and brought yells from the crowd, among whom criticisms of Jared were freely expressed. He grew pale with rage and chagrin.

Paul Perkins now came to bat. The dreamy lad struck out. His apparent unconcern made the crowd laugh. They laughed even more when Tubby, having struck out also, calmly picked up a bit of pie he had been munching when he came to bat and marched to his seat contentedly chewing it.

At this stage of the game two were out, Merritt was on second and Rob on third.

Now came the turn of Ernest Thompson, a big-eyed, serious-looking lad, one of the first recruits to the Eagle standard and a first-cla.s.s scout.

Jared was now on the broad grin. Thompson looked easy.

"Look out, baby-face," chuckled Jared, poising himself.

An in-curve shot from his hand. Ernest gazed at it in an uninterested manner and allowed it to go by.

"Strike one!" came the sonorous voice of the umpire, who was Sim Giles, the postmaster.

"Oh-h-h-h-h!" yelled the crowd.

The next ball was of the same character. This time Ernest struck at the ball. He missed and the crowd yelled again. Jared began to regain self-confidence.

"Strike two," was the cry.

The third ball was high.

"Ball one," declared Sim.

Then came an out-curve. But it was too far out. Jared was a rather ragged pitcher.

"Ball two," called Sim.

Suddenly Jared threw to third base. But, quick as he was, he didn't catch Rob off.

"How's that?" yelled Higgins, the Hampton third baseman, as he touched Rob.

The umpire merely waved his hand in what he deemed a professional manner.

"A thousand years late," chuckled Rob to Higgins.

Jared heard him and flashed him an ugly look. Hatred gleamed in his eyes.

Rob watched him narrowly and again stole off third.

Bang!--came a swift straight ball at the dreamy Ernest. But he was not in "a trance," as Jared had scornfully thought. Crack!--went a hot grounder to short stop. Merritt stood fast at second, but Rob, like an arrow from a bow, shot off for home. The short stop fired in the sphere to the catcher as quickly as he could. But before the ball got there, Rob, his legs working like pistons, had pa.s.sed the home plate.

What a roar went up then! Flags waved and cheers resounded among the Eagle sympathizers.

As the cheering died away the catcher, Hollis Powers, walked into the diamond to confer with Jared, who showed by his pa.s.sionate gestures that he was mad clear through.

"Look out or they'll knock you out of the box," yelled some one.

This did not tend to improve Jared's temper. But, nevertheless, he struck out the next batter, Simon Jeffords, which helped in part to restore his balance. The Eagles then retired to the field.

"How do you feel, Merritt?" was eagerly asked by his comrades before he took the pitcher's box.

"All right, so far. You'll know soon enough when my wing gets sore," was the reply.

Apparently Rob was not destined to pitch that day. Merritt struck out the first two batters, fielded a hot liner and threw out Jared before he got to first base. Jared was certainly piling up his list of grievances against the Boy Scouts. To add to his ill-feeling he had recognized Fred Mainwaring, nodded to the latter and received the cut direct. The fact that Lucy Mainwaring was a witness to this snub did not improve matters.

"Good boy, Merritt!" yelled the Eagle supporters in a frenzy of delight.

The third inning commenced with the Eagles at the bat. But now Jared appeared to have on his throwing clothes. The Scout batters couldn't hammer his pitching at all.

In fact, all that occurred while they succeeded each other at the bat was a monotonous succession of calls from the umpire:

"Strike one. Strike two. You're out."

The Hampton villagers began to pluck up heart. They gave Jared warm support and cheers for his really excellent work and that of his team-mates. To the somewhat blank astonishment of the Eagles, they had not been able to find Jared's pitching at all in this inning. It began to look as if they were by no means to have things their own way.