Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars; or, The Rivals of Riverside

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER XIII

  SCIENTIFIC PRACTICE

  There was a period of silence following Sam's offer of his resignation,and no one seemed to know just what to say. Several of the lads glancedat Joe, as if expecting him to say something in his own defense. In factthe young centre fielder was about to speak but he did not get thechance, for Sam exclaimed again:

  "Well, do you want my resignation, Darrell?"

  "You know I don't!" declared the manager.

  "Then things have got to be changed!"

  "Look here!" burst out Darrell. "I've stood about all I'm going to fromyou, Sam Morton. There has got to be a change in this team."

  "That's just what I'm giving you a chance to make," the pitcher fairlysneered. "You can fill my place any time you like."

  "But I'm not going to," and though Darrell spoke pleasantly there was asternness in his words. "Fellows, it's like this," he went on. "TheSilver Stars are a good team and you know it. So does every one in thistown, but the last two games we've played in hard luck, and----"

  "Do you mean to say it was my pitching?" demanded Sam.

  "No more than it was the way we all played. As I said, we've got to takea brace. I don't know what's gotten into you, Sam, to say you'll resignif Joe Matson plays. What have you against him?"

  "Well, I hate to see a newcomer made so much of. Here we fellows haveworked hard all season, and----"

  "And you're going to work hard the _rest_ of the season!" exclaimedDarrell. "Let me tell you that! I'm not going to hear any more talk ofresignations, and this bickering has got to stop. Otherwise we'll be thelaughing stock of the county. You all played pretty well to-day, but youall need to do better."

  "All but Matson; I suppose he's the star," sneered Sam.

  "Look here," burst out Joe, unable to stand the taunts of the pitcherany longer, "if you think----"

  "Now, go easy," advised Darrell with a smile. "I'm giving this littlelecture. I give Matson due credit for one of the three runs we got," hewent on, "but that's not saying that he didn't make errors. We all did.

  "Oh, fellows!" he pleaded and they could see that he was very much inearnest, "let's get together and wallop every nine we play against fromnow on! Take a brace. Forget all this feeling and get together. Matsonand Morton, I want you to shake hands, will you?"

  "I'm willing," assented Joe eagerly, advancing toward Sam.

  The latter hesitated a moment and then, feeling the eyes of all in thedressing room on him, he mumbled:

  "Well, as long as you don't think he's the star of the Stars, I'llshake. Maybe I was a bit hasty," he went on, and this was a great dealfor Sam Morton to admit. He and Joe shook hands, though it cannot besaid that there was any warmth on the part of the pitcher. Still it wasbetter than open enmity, though Joe wondered if Sam would be reallyfriendly.

  "That's better," commented the manager with something like a sigh ofrelief.

  "And don't let this go any further," suggested the captain. "We don'twant it known that there came near being a break in the Stars. Now gettogether, fellows. Show up at practice strong next time, and we'll winour next game!"

  "That's the way to talk!" cried Tom Davis, and the crisis waspassed--for a time.

  And, to the delight of Joe, he found that he had made many new friends,chiefly because of his sensational run. The members of the team, ofcourse, crowded around him congratulating him, and asking him how he didit. But, in addition, there now flocked into the dressing room a crowdof lads who had witnessed the game. Some of them were high school pupilswho knew Joe, at least by sight, but they now came up and spoke to him.Other town lads did the same thing.

  "Gee! It's great to be popular!" exclaimed Tom, with a mock sigh. "Whywasn't I born a home-run hitter instead of good looking, I wonder?"

  "Get out!" laughed Joe. "Don't make me get a swelled head."

  "No danger, I guess," retorted Tom.

  Darrell and the captain strolled up to Joe, who had finished dressing.

  "Well, that's over, for a while," said Darrell in a low voice, evidentlyreferring to the unpleasant little incident. "I want to ask you to dosome practicing, Matson. You need to try throwing a bit, for it's a longheave in from centre field and, to be frank, you aren't any too good atit."

  "I'll practice every day," exclaimed our hero eagerly.

  "And I'll coach him," added Tom.

  "Get out, you lobster, you need coaching yourself," said the captainwith a laugh. "You'll get rusty if Darrell doesn't get off first andgive you a chance."

  "I'll do it more often now," said the manager. "I want to be more on thecoaching line. Two wallops in two weeks is more than the Stars canstand."

  "Who do we play next week?" asked Tom.

  "The Denville Whizzers, but I don't imagine we'll have much trouble withthem," said the manager. "However, it won't do to take any chances.Practice hard, fellows," and with that he left the dressing room.

  Sam Morton had gone out some time before and Joe and Tom soon followed.As they strolled down the street toward their homes Tom said:

  "Say Joe, I was in earnest in saying I'd coach you. I believe you doneed practice in throwing, and if you haven't given up the idea ofpitching some day----"

  "I'll never give up the idea until I'm knocked out of the box," declaredJoe.

  "Good! Then I'll help coach you. I was going to say it wasn't much funpracticing alone, and as a matter of fact it doesn't do much good."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, I've been reading up about baseball lately. I got a book onpitching, and----"

  "Say, will you lend it to me?" asked Joe eagerly. "Or tell me where Ican buy one?"

  "Sure I will. I was going to say that it has articles in it by starprofessional pitchers and a lot of them agree that it isn't much usejust to go out and throw a ball at a spot on the backstop or the fence."

  "What's the best way then?" asked Joe, who had supposed from his limitedknowledge that to practice at hitting a certain spot with the ball wasabout the best he could do.

  "Why, they say the best is to get something like a home plate--a flatstone say--and pitch over it with some one to catch for you."

  "I suppose that would be a good way," began Joe doubtfully, "but who'sgoing to catch for me?"

  "I am!" exclaimed Tom quickly. "I said just now that I'd coach you. I'lldo more than that, I'll catch for you. And the book I spoke of has othertricks of practice, so a fellow can get good control of a ball. That'sthe thing pitchers need it says--control. Say, we'll have some fun, youand I, down in a vacant lot practicing. When can you come?"

  "How about Monday afternoon?"

  "Suits me first rate."

  "All right, we'll make it then, and we'll get in some scientificpractice for you. Maybe after all, you'll pitch in Sam's place beforethe season is over."

  "I wouldn't want to do it, if it's going to make a row in the team."

  "Oh, don't let that worry you. Lots of the fellows don't like Sam anytoo well. They'd as soon have some one else in the box if he coulddeliver the goods. Well, so long; see you Monday, if not before."

  "I guess I'm glad dad moved to Riverside after all," mused Joe as hewalked toward home. "I was afraid I wouldn't like it at first, but nowI'm on the team it's all right. I hope dad doesn't have any businesstroubles though. I wonder what is wrong for I'm sure something is. Ihope it doesn't prevent me from going to boarding school next year," andwith this reflection Joe went in the house.