The New Boys at Oakdale Part 2

"He can't do it again!" cried Baxter. "Make 'em be good!"

Grant used a drop, starting the ball high so that it shot down past the batsman's shoulders and across his chest. Even as the umpire called, "Strike two," the Oakdale players shouted a warning to Stone. It was needless, for Ben had seen Foxhall speeding along the line in a desperate and seemingly ill-advised attempt to purloin third. Craftily Cohen fell back a step to one side, as if to give the catcher room to throw, but with the real purpose of bothering him as much as possible without bringing, by interference, a penalty upon the runner. Possibly this was the reason why Stone threw high, forcing Osgood to reach to the full length of his arms in order to get the sphere. Almost invariably the Oakdale catcher put the ball straight and low into the hands of the baseman, so that the latter could tag a sliding runner quickly and easily; and had he been able to do this now, Foxhall doubtless could not have slid safely under Osgood, which, however, was precisely what he did succeed in doing.

"Who said we couldn't steal on old Stoney?" shouted Pelty from the coaching line back of third. "Great work, Foxy, old man. You put that one across on him."

With only one local player gone and but a single run needed to tie the score, the tension of the moment was intense. No one realized the danger better than Grant, and when he pitched again he made another clever effort to "pull" Cohen; an effort that almost succeeded, for Sam caught himself just in time to prevent his bat from swinging across the plate.

"Ball three," came from the umpire.

"He's going to walk you, Cohen; he's afraid of you," came from Baxter.

It must be admitted that Grant had considered the advisability of handing Cohen a pa.s.s, but knowing Wolcott, the fellow who came next, was almost as dangerous a hitter, he had decided that such a piece of strategy would be ill advised. Taking into consideration the batter's ability to meet speed, Rod shook his head when Stone called for a straight one on the inside corner. Ben knew at once that the Texan wished to try to strike Cohen out, and so he swiftly changed the signal.

Now Cohen had brains in his head and was also a good guesser. Moreover, he knew that Grant relied largely upon his remarkable drop when a strike-out was needed. And so it happened that, seeing Rod decline to follow the first signal, he was convinced that the pitcher would hand up one of those sharp dips.

Having guessed right, the batter judged the drop beautifully and hit it a tremendous smash. Away sailed the ball toward center field, some distance to the right of Shultz, who stretched his stout legs to get under it.

"He can't touch it!" was the cry.

Nevertheless, when Foxhall started off third, Pelty, defiant of coaching rules, sprang forward, grabbed him and yanked him back.

"Get on to that sack!" the little shortstop panted. "Get ready to run!

You can score anyhow; you don't need a start."

Thus advised, Foxhall leaped back to the cus.h.i.+on, upon which he planted his left foot with the right advanced, crouching, his hands clenched, his arms hooked the least bit, ready to get away like a sprinter starting from his mark.

Shultz made a splendid run, leaping into the air at the proper moment and thrusting out his bare right hand. The ball struck in that outshot hand and stuck there.

An instant before the catch was made Pelty shrieked, "Go," and Foxhall raced for the plate.

It was impossible to stop that run. Cohen's long sacrifice fly had tied the score, in spite of the strenuous and sensational one-handed catch in center field; and the crowd leaped and yelled, with arms up-flung and caps hurled into the air.

CHAPTER III

BENCHED.

In moments like this the baseball fan of any age goes wild with frenzy; especially is this true of the enthusiastic schoolboy fan who has watched his team fight an uphill game and come neck-and-neck with a worthy and much-feared rival in one of the late innings of the contest.

The youthful Wyndhamites shrieked until their faces were purple and their eyes bulging, flouris.h.i.+ng their banners and frantically pounding one another over heads and shoulders. At the bench the players laughingly danced around Foxhall and then cheered Cohen as the latter came walking back from first, muttering to himself that the catch had been "a case of horseshoes, nothing less."

In the midst of this excitement Nelson ran up to Grant, whose face was pale, but grim and set as ever.

"You couldn't help it, Rod," said the Oakdale captain soothingly. "They won't get any more. The bases are clean now."

"But they've tied the score," growled the Texan. "That's the first time Cohen has touched one of my drops to-day."

"Hold them where they are, and we'll win it yet," declared Jack optimistically. "We didn't expect a walk-over with this bunch."

Wolcott's courage was high as he faced Rodney. Heedless of the uproar, the Texan burned the air with his speed, and Wolcott fouled.

"Strike one," called the umpire.

Another smoker followed with a slightly different twist, and this time the batter missed cleanly.

"That's two of them, old Maverick," called Stone, breathing on his smarting right hand. "Some speed, old man-some speed there."

Seemingly with precisely the same movement and snap, Rodney made the third pitch; but this time the ball lingered astonis.h.i.+ngly on its way, as if held back by some subtle force, and, as a result, the befooled batter struck too soon, not even fouling it. This gave the little bunch of loyal Oakdalers a chance to cheer.

"I don't suppose you're going to call me down for that one-handed catch, are you?" said Shultz insolently, as he came jogging to the bench.

Nelson shot him a look and turned away without answering. Not satisfied, the fielder turned to Cooper. "A man can usually tell whether he can reach the ball best with one hand or two," he declared loudly enough for the captain to hear. "I didn't make that m.u.f.f intentionally."

Ben Stone walked out to the plate and watched Lefty Leach waste two benders, which led Springer stammeringly to prophesy that Leach, being afraid, would give the stocky catcher a pa.s.s. The next one, however, was over the outside corner and precisely where Ben wanted it, whereupon he smashed a terrific drive over second and took two sacks on it amid further enthusiasm by Oakdale.

Nelson could not refrain from calling Osgood's attention to the fact that this. .h.i.t would have given the visitors a score had his instructions regarding sacrificing been obeyed.

"Perhaps you're right," admitted Ned in his blandly polite and tantalizing manner; "but it's no dead sure thing that Stone would have made just that kind of a hit in the other inning. Anyway, we ought to get some runs now."

Sile Crane ambled awkwardly forth to the plate and hit into the diamond the first ball pitched, giving Stone, who had a good start, plenty of time to reach third, for Foxhall juggled the grounder a moment.

Realizing he could not stop Ben, Foxhall snapped the sphere to first in time to get the lanky batter.

"The squeeze, Cooper," hissed Nelson in Chipper's ear, as the little shortstop rose from the bench. At the same time Jack a.s.sumed a pose that told Stone what was to be tried.

Ready to play his part, Ben crept off third, intending to dash for the plate and rely upon Cooper to hit the ball into the diamond somewhere.

Leach placed himself in position, nodded in response to his catcher's signal, hunched his left shoulder a bit, and, whirling like a flash, threw to third. Stone had started forward with that shoulder movement by the pitcher, and was caught off the sack. Instantly, even as he sought to get back without being touched, he called for judgment on a balk.

The umpires had changed positions, and now the Wyndham man was behind the pitcher. In response to that demand for a decision on Leach's movement he grimly shook his head.

"It was a balk-a plain, cold balk," cried Nelson, on his feet.

"No balk," denied the umpire, still shaking his head.

"In that case," said the other umpire slowly, "Stone is out at third."

Nelson ran into the diamond and confronted the Wyndham man. "It was as rank a balk as I ever saw," he a.s.serted hotly. "What kind of a deal are you trying to give us?"

"I saw no balk, and I was looking at the pitcher," returned the umpire.

"Get back to your bench."

Nelson argued in vain, while the crowd made the air ring with hoots and cat-calls. Presently the umpire threatened to pull his watch and forfeit the game, whereupon the disgusted and angry Oakdale captain walked slowly back to the bench.

"You shouldn't let him get away with it," said Osgood. "It was a balk all right."

"Why didn't our man call Stone safe?" rasped Grant.