Ned, Bob and Jerry at Boxwood Hall; Or, The Motor Boys as Freshmen

by Clarence Young

  CHAPTER XXIV

  A SCRUB GAME

  Ned Slade, who stood near Jerry, heard what was said. He took a stepforward, but the tall lad put out a restraining hand. And, as Nedlooked at his chum, Jerry shook his head in negation.

  “What’s the matter with you?” demanded Ned, when Frank had walked outof hearing distance. “Why don’t you let me soak him a good one?”

  “Because it would have been a bad one,” answered Jerry. “It would onlyhave made matters worse. I want to play on the varsity nine and so doyou and Bob, and----”

  “Yes, and if we let this sneak Frank have his way we’ll never get on,”interrupted Ned. “If you’d let me mix it up with him it would take someof the starch and pig-headedness out of him, and he’d have to let usplay.”

  “No,” and Jerry shook his head, “that would only make matters worse.He’d be more set in his ways than ever. You leave it to me.”

  “What are you going to do?” Bob wanted to know. “It doesn’t seem thatthere’s anything to do.”

  “All we can do for a while is to wait,” Jerry said. “You see Bart andBill, who used to be as much against us as Frank is, are friendly withus now. And we’ve won over a good many others of Frank’s cronies. Notthat we ever did anything that they shouldn’t be friendly with us, butit just happened so. It was all because Professor Snodgrass made themistake of telling too much about us in advance. I can see that. Hedidn’t exactly boast of what we’d done, but it sounded so to some ofthe boys, and we’ve got to live down that reputation.

  “We’re doing it, too, and I wouldn’t have the dear old professor know,for the world, what a pickle he innocently got us into. We’ll justwait, and it will come around all right, I’m sure.”

  “Well, I’m not!” exclaimed Ned, who was in an angry mood. “I’m forgiving Frank a good walloping, and bringing him to his senses.”

  “How is it he has such a control where the varsity nine is concerned?”asked Bob.

  “Well, as I get the story,” said Jerry, “Frank put the nine on itsfeet. When he came here Boxwood Hall wasn’t much of anywhere as regardsbaseball. Now Frank is a good player--a crackerjack! I’ll give himcredit for that, pig-headed as he is. He’s a natural born player andmanager, and he took hold of the nine and pulled it out of the mud. Hehelped with money, too, bought new uniforms and all that. Naturally, hewas made captain and manager, and, in a way, coach too.”

  “Why didn’t they make him the whole team while they were about it?”asked Ned, sarcastically.

  “Well, I guess it did come pretty near amounting to that,” laughedJerry. “Anyhow, he demanded, so I heard, and was given the right tosay who should and should not play on the varsity. In his capacity ascaptain and manager he retains that right. If he doesn’t want a fellowto play, that fellow keeps on the scrub or sits on the bench.”

  “And he doesn’t want us to play,” remarked Ned, bitterly.

  “It doesn’t seem so,” agreed Jerry. “But we’ll wait.”

  “It’s a funny state of affairs,” remarked Bob, “where one fellow canrun the whole varsity nine and say who shall and who sha’n’t play.”

  “Yes, it is,” admitted the tall chum. “But in this case it has workedout well, for Boxwood Hall won the championship last year, which itnever did before, and defeated the military academy two out of thethree games which are an annual feature. So that’s why the fellows letFrank have his way. They knew he made the nine, and he’s making goodwith it yet. It isn’t that we can play better than the fellows on it,it’s just that I want to be on the varsity.”

  “So do I!” chimed in Ned and Bob.

  “And we’ve just got to wait until Frank either changes his mind, oruntil we can show that we can play so much better than some of theregulars that there’ll be a demand that we go in,” finished Jerry. “Nowlet’s go for a ride and forget our troubles.”

  Ned was still bitter against Frank, though, and did not see why thethree chums could not be put on the varsity.

  As the three were riding off, Professor Snodgrass, equipped with hisnet and specimen box, hailed them.

  “My first butterfly hunt of the season!” he called to the boys. “I’mafter some _Argynnis cybele_ specimens, which appear with the firstviolets.”

  “Come with us,” said Jerry. “Do you want to go to any particular place?”

  “No, only to the nearest patch of woods where violets may be found.I haven’t any good specimens of the _Argynnis_, and I am anxiousto secure some,” the little scientist explained as he entered theautomobile.

  “What does it look like?” asked Jerry. “We don’t want you to be makingstabs at colored leaves, which you’ll do if we let Bob do the looking.”

  “I can tell a butterfly as well as you!” retorted the stout youth.

  “The _Argynnis cybele_,” said Professor Snodgrass, “is sometimes calledthe great spangled Fritillary. In color it is a sort of light brownishyellow, with brown and yellow spots, and the under sides of the wingsare heavily silvered. The caterpillars hibernate as soon as hatched,and live that way all winter. In the spring they feed up, and turn intobutterflies about the time the first violets appear. I hope we shallget some to-day.”

  “We’ll help you look,” Ned promised.

  Arriving at the patch of woods, they all got out of the automobile andbegan searching.

  “Here are some violets,” called Jerry after a while.

  “Then perhaps there may be a butterfly near them,” the professoranswered, hastening over toward the tall lad. “Yes, there’s one!” hecried, his trained eyes seeing it before any of the others. “Wait nowuntil he lights, and I’ll have him!”

  The professor stood with poised net. One foot went into a puddle ofwater, but he did not seem to mind that. Then, with a sweep of his nethe captured the beautiful specimen, and soon transferred it to hiscyanide bottle.

  “Excellent! Excellent!” murmured Professor Snodgrass. “I would not havemissed this for anything. But I--er--something seems to be the matter,”he went on in puzzled tones.

  “The matter? Where?” asked Ned.

  “With one of my feet. It seems so cold. Can it be frost bitten?” and helooked down at the ground. The boys did too, and broke out into pealsof laughter. For the professor was still standing with one foot inthe puddle of cold water, a fact to which he had been oblivious whileengaged in capturing and putting away the butterfly.

  “You ought to wear rubber boots,” Jerry said. “Shall we take you backto get a dry shoe?”

  “No, it isn’t as cold as it was at first, and I want to get anotherspecimen.”

  He had good luck, for he secured two more, and then consented to bedriven back to the cottage.

  “Same old professor,” remarked Jerry.

  “That’s what,” agreed Bob.

  Baseball practice went on for several days, and the varsity was gettingin good shape, while the scrub, or second team, under the captaincy ofTom Bacon, was making shifts and changes, trying to get the best ladsfitted to the right positions.

  There was no trouble about Ned, Bob and Jerry making the scrub. Theyplayed good ball, and Ned was picked for pitcher, while Jerry was onfirst and Bob at shortstop.

  “First varsity-scrub game of the season to-morrow,” was the announcementon the gymnasium board one afternoon.

  “And we’ll see if we can’t do ’em up!” exclaimed Ned. “We’ll show FrankWatson that he isn’t such a much.”

  “We’ll beat ’em if we can,” agreed Jerry.

  The two nines ran out on the diamond which had been put in fine shape.A crowd of students swarmed out to watch the first practice game of theseason and to get a line on the work of the varsity.

  “Play hard now, fellows!”

  “Soak ’em in, Ned!”

  “Don’t fan out varsity!”

  “Watch for double steals, Jerry!”

  Thus called the student spectators.

  “Play ball!” called the umpire, after the warm-up practice. The scru
bswere to bat first, and Gene Flarity was up.

  The game commenced. It was not remarkable for brilliant playing oneither side, but Ned, Bob and Jerry, determined to show their mettle,worked so hard, and Ned and Jerry teamed it to such good advantage thatthe score was soon tied, which had not happened to the varsity in along while.

  “And here’s where we beat ’em!” exclaimed Ned, when the ninth inningcame, and he was at bat. Ned made a good hit. It was safe for two bags,and when Chet Randell duplicated, after one man fanned out, Ned came inwith the winning run. That is, it would be if he could hold the varsityhitless.

  And he did. He struck out the first man, while the second singled andwas caught napping at first.

  “Come on now, boys, we want to get this game!” cried Frank. He was atbat, and with two out, there was but a slim chance. But Frank was apinch hitter, and he faced Ned with a sneer.

  “You won’t win the game!” thought Ned, bitterly.

  He sent in a swift ball, and it looked as though it was going to hitFrank, who moved back just a trifle.

  “Strike!” howled the umpire.

  “I’ve got your number all right,” exulted Ned.

  Frank hit the next one, but it was a foul which the catcher madedesperate efforts to get.

  “And you’re out!” Ned whispered to himself, as he sent in a beautifulcurve, which completely fooled the batter.

  “You’re out!” echoed the umpire.