the Shortstop (1992)

by Grey, Zane

  Mittie-Maru uttered a suppressed exclamation and bolted behind some bushes Chase took a step to follow suit, when the girl opened her eyes and saw him. She gave a little cry, which rooted Chase to the spot.

  Then because of the movement of the girl the boat left the sand and drifted into the stream. Whereupon Mittie-Maru returned valiantly to the scene. "Miss Marjory ! Don't be scart. It's all right. We'll get you in. Where's the oars? Chase, you'll hev to wade in. The water ain't deep. Come here, the boat's goin' close to this sand-bar."

  Chase became animated at Mittie's words, and hurriedly slipping off his shoes and stockings, he jumped to the sand below and waded out. Deeper and deeper the water grew, till he was far over his knees. Still the boat was out of reach. He could tell by feeling with his foot that another step would plunge him over his head, and was about to swim, when Mittie came to the rescue.

  He threw a long pole down to Chase. "There! let her grab that, an' pull her in."

  Chase extended the pole, and as the girl caught it he saw her eyes. They were dark blue and smiled into his. "Careful!" shouted the pilot above. " Don't pull so hard, Chase, this ain't no tug-o'-war. There! All right."

  When Chase moored the boat Miss Marjory gathered up the violets and lightly stepped ashore. Then an obvious constraint affected the three. She murmured a low "Thank you," and stood, picking the flowers; Chase bent over his shoes and stockings with a very flushed face, and Mittie-Maru labored with sudden and painful emotions.

  "Miss Marjory, it 'peared like we pushed the boat out, me an' Chase, but thet ain't so. We was walkin' this way - he wanted to go in the grove - an' all to onct we spied you, an' I ducked behind the bushes."

  " Why? Are you afraid of me, Mittie-Maru ? " she asked.

  " Yes - no - it ain't thet, Miss Marjory. Well, no use lyin'. I 've been keepin' out of your way fer a long time now, 'cause I know you'd have me in Sunday school."

  " Now you will come back, won't you?" " I s'pose so," he said with resignation, then looked at Chase. "Miss Marjory, this 's my friend Chase, Findlay's new short-stop."

  " I met the - new short-stop last week," was the demure reply.

  "Miss Marjory, you didn't sell Chase none of them gold bricks at the church sociable? "

  " No, Mittie, but I sold him five plates of ice-cream," she answered, with a merry laugh. " Your friend has forgotten me."

  Mittie-Maru regarded Chase with a fine contempt. Chase was tongue-tied. Somewhere he had indeed seen those deep blue eyes; they were like the memory of a dream. " Miss - Miss - " stammered Chase.

  "Miss Dean, Marjory Dean."

  " I met - so many girls - I didn't really have time to get to know anybody well "

  Mittie-Maru watched them with bright, sharp eyes, and laughed when Chase broke into embarrassed speech again.

  " - finest time I ever had. I told Mittie about it, how they sold me a lot of old maid's things. I sent some of them to my mother. And I asked Mittie if he could use a pin-cushion or two. I've been hunting Mittie all morning. Found him fishing down here. He's got the cutest little den in a kiln at the old brickyard below.

  He lives there. It's the cosiest place "

  Mittie had administered to Chase a series of violent kicks, the last of which had brought him to his senses.

  " Chase, you peached on me. You give me away, an' you said you wouldn't!"

  " Oh! Mittie, I 'm sorry - I didn't think," cried Chase in contrition.

  " Is it true? " asked Marjory, with grave eyes.

  " Sure. An' I don't mind yer knowin'. Really I don't, if you'll promise not to tell a soul."

  " I promise. Will you let me come to see you? "

  " I'd be tickled to death. You an' Chase come to call on me. I'll ketch you a mess of fish. Won't thet be fine?"

  Marjory's long lashes fell. The sound of a bell came ringing through the grove.

  " That's for me. I must be going. Good-bye."

  Chase and Mittie watched the slight blue-clad figure flit along the path, in and out among the trees, to disappear in the green.

  " An I promised to go to Sunday school again," muttered Mittie-Maru.

  Chapter IX.

  ON THE ROAD.

  AT six o'clock on the twelfth of June the Findlay baseball club, fifteen strong, was assembled at the railroad station to begin a two weeks' trip on the road. Having taken three games from Columbus, and being now but a few points behind that team, they were an exceedingly lively company of young men. They were so exuberant with joy that they made life a burden for everybody, particularly for Mac. The little manager had trouble enough at home, but it was on the road that he got his gray hairs. " Shure, Cas, you ain't after takin' thet dog again?" asked Mac.

  Castorious had a vicious-looking beast, all head and jaws, under his arm. "Dog!" roared Cas, insulted. "This 's a blooded bull-terrier pup. Course I'm going to take him. We can't win the pennant without Algy."

  " Algy? Is thet his name? " burst out Mac, who had already exhausted his 138. patience. " Thet's a fine name for a mongrel brute. He 's uglier than a mud fence."

  As Mac concluded, a rat ran across the platform. Algy saw it, and with a howl wriggled out of his master's arms and gave chase. The platform was crowded with people, of whom ladies made up the greater part. Algy chased the rat from under the trucks and between the trunks right into the crowd. Instantly a scene of great excitement prevailed. Women screamed and rushed frantically into each others' arms; some fell over their grips; several climbed upon trunks; all of them evinced a terror that must have had its origin in the movements of the escaping rat, not the pursuing pup. And the course of both animals could be marked by a zigzag line of violent commotion in the crowd.

  Presently a woman shrieked and seemed to sit down upon a moving object only to slip to the floor. Algy appeared then with the rat between his jaws. " It was a cinch he'd get it," yelled Cas. He gathered up the pup and hid him under his coat.

  "Line up! Line up!" shouted Mac, as the train whistled.

  The players stepped into a compact, wedge-shaped formation; and when the train stopped in the station they moved in orderly mass through the jostling mob. Ball players value a rest to tired legs too much to risk standing up, and even in the most crowded stations always board the train first.

  "Through to the Pullman!" yelled Mac.

  Chase was in the seventh heaven of delight. He had long been looking forward to what the players called " on the road." and the luxurious Pullman suited his dreams of travel. He and Winters took a seat opposite a very stout old lady who gazed somewhat sourly at them. Havil and Thatcher were on the other side of the aisle; Cas had a seat in the forward end; Mac was behind; and the others were scattered about. There were some half-dozen passengers besides, notable among whom was a very tall, thin, bald-headed man sitting in front of Havil. Chase knew his fellow-players too well -by this time to expect them to settle down calmly. "On the road" was luxury for ball players. Fast trains, the best hotels, all expenses paid, -these for a winning baseball team were things to appreciate. Chase settled back in the soft cushioned seat to watch, to see, to enjoy every move and word of his companions.

  " Where will we sleep?" he asked Winters. "Never on a sleeper?"

  Chase smiled and shook his head. Then Enoch began to elaborate on the beds that were let down from the ceiling of the car, and how difficult they were to get into and out of, especially the latter in case of fire, which broke out very frequently on Pullmans.

  " An' if anybody yells 'Fire!' you skedaddle to the fire-escape," concluded Enoch.

  "Fire-escape? On a train? Where is it?" queried Chase, wonderingly.

  " Don't you know where the fire-escape is?" asked Enoch, in innocent surprise. His round owl eyes regarded Chase in a most kindly light. "Well, you ask the porter. He'll take an' show you."

  Straightway Chase forgot it in the interest of other things. The train was now in smooth, rapid motion; the fields and groves and farms flashed by.

  He saw the conductor ent
er the car and stand by Cas. Cas looked up, and then went on calmly reading his paper.

  "Tickets," said the conductor, sharply. Cas paid not the slightest attention to him.

  "Tickets," repeated the conductor, getting red in the face. He tapped Cas not lightly on the shoulder.

  " Wha-at ? " demanded Cas.

  " Your ticket! I don't wish to be kept waiting. Produce your ticket. "

  " I don't need a ticket to ride on this bum road."

  The conductor looked apoplectic. He reached up to grasp the bell-cord. "

  Your ticket, or I 'll stop the train and put you off."

  " Put me off! I'd like to have a tintype of your whole crew trying to put me off this train."

  Mac came into the car, and divining how matters stood, hurried forward to produce his party ticket. The conductor, still in high dudgeon, passed on down the aisle.

  " Good-evenin', Mr. Conductor, this 's fine weather for travellin'," said Enoch, in his soft voice. The conductor glanced keenly at him, but evidently disarmed by the placid round face and kind round eyes, replied in gracious affirmation.

  Enoch whispered in Chase's ear, " Wait till the crew finds Cas's bulldog Don't miss thet ! "

  Some thirty miles out of Findlay the train stopped at a junction. A number of farmers were lounging round the small station. Enoch raised the window and called one of them.

  " Hey! What's the name of this place? " he asked of the one who ap!proached, an angular, stolid rustic in overalls and top boots.

  "Brookville, mister," was the civil reply. ' " Brookville ! Wal, I swan! You don't say ! Fellow named Perkins live here?"

  " Yep. Hiram Perkins."

  " Hiram -Hiram Perkins, my ole friend." Enoch's round face beamed with an expression of benign gratitude, as if he would, were it possible, reward the fellow for his information. "Tell Hiram his ole friend Si Hayrick was passin' through an' sends regards. Wal, how 's things? Ploughin' all done? You don't say! An' corn all planted? Do tell! An' the ham-trees grown' all right? "

  " Whet?" questioned the farmer, plainly mystified, leaning forward.

  " How 's yer ham-trees? "

  "Never heerd of sich."

  " Wal, dog-gone me! Why, over in Indianer our ham-trees is sproutin' powerful. An' how about bee's knees? Got any bee's knees this Spring?"

  The rustic stretched his long neck. Then as the train started off Enoch put his head out of the window and called: " Rubber-neck! Rubber-neck! "

  The stout lady in the opposite seat plainly sniffed her disgust at these proceedings on the part of a grown man. His innocent round stare in no wise deceived her. She gave him one withering glance, adjusted her eye-glass, and went on reading. Several times following that, she raised a hand to her face, as if to brush off a fly. But there was no fly. She became restless, laid aside her magazine, and rang for the porter.

  " Porter, close the window above. Cinders are flying in on me."

  "Window 's closed, ma'am," returned the porter.

  "Something is most annoying. I am being stung in the face by something sharp," she declared testily.

  " Beggin' yo pahdon, ma'am, yo sho is mistaken. There's no flies or muskeeters in my car."

  "Don't I know when I'm stung?"

  The porter, tired and crushed, wearily went his way. The stout lady fumed and fussed, and fanned herself with a magazine. Chase knew what was going on and was at great pains to contain himself. Enoch's solemn owl face was blank, and Havil, who was shooting shot and causing the lady's distress, bent a pale, minis! terial countenance over his paper. Chase watched him closely, saw him raise his head at intervals when he turned a leaf of his paper, but could see no movement of his lips. He became aware, presently, when Havil changed his position, that the attack was now to be directed upon the bald-headed man in the forward seat.

  That individual three times caressed the white spot on his head, and then looking in the air all about him, rang for the porter.

  " Porter, drive the flies out of the car."

  "They ain't no flies, suh."

  " Don't talk back to me. I'm from Georgia. Blacks don't talk back to me where I live."

  "Yo mought be from a hotter place than Georgia, suh, fer all I care," replied the porter, turning at the last, like a trodden worm.

  " I am annoyed, annoyed. Something has been dropping on my head.

  Maybe it 's water. It comes dot, dot, like that."

  " Spect yo'se dotty, suh ! " said the negro, moving off. "An' yo sho ain't the only dotty passenger this trip."

  The bald-headed man resumed his seat. Unfortunately he was so tall that his head reached above the seat, affording a most alluring target for Havil. Chase, watching closely, saw the muscle along Havil's jaw contract, and then he heard a tiny thump as the shot struck much harder than usual. The gentleman from Georgia jumped up, purple in the face, and trembled so that his newspaper rustled in his hand.

  "You hit me with something," he shouted, looking at Thatcher, for the reason, no doubt, that no one could associate Havil's sanctimonious expression with an untoward act.

  Thatcher looked up in great astonishment from the book in which he had been deeply interested. The by-play had passed unnoticed so far as he was concerned. Besides, he was ignorant of Havil's genius in the shot-shooting line, and he was a quiet fellow, anyway, but quick in temper.

  "No, I didn't," he replied.

  The Southerner repeated his accusation.

  "No, I didn't, but I will jolt you one," returned Thatcher, with some heat.

  " Gentlemen, this is unseemly, especially in the presence of ladies," interposed Havil, rising with the dignity of one whose calling he appeared to represent.

  " Most unseemly! My dear sir, calm yourself. No one is throwing things at you. It is only your imagination. I have heard of such cases, and fortunately my study of medicine enables me to explain. Sometimes on a heated car a person's blood will rise to the brain and, probably because of the motion, beat so as to produce the effect of being lightly struck. This is most often the case in persons whose hirsute decoration is slightly worn off - er, in the middle, you know."

  The gentleman from the South sputtered in impotent rage and stamped off toward the smoking-car.

  " Dinner served in the dining-car ahead," called out a white-clad waiter; and this announcement hurried off the passengers, leaving the car to the players, who had dined before boarding the train.

  Time lagged then. The porter lit the lights, for it was growing dark; four of the boys went into the smoker to play cards, and the others quieted down. After a while the passengers returned from the diner, and with them the porter, who began making up the berths. Chase watched him with interest.

  "Let's turn in," said Enoch. "It's a long ride and we'll be tired enough. Some of us must double up, an' I 'm glad we 're skinny." Enoch boosted Chase into the upper berth and swung himself up.

  " Take off your outer clothes," said Enoch, " an' be comfortable."

  Chase found it very snug up there, and he lay back listening to the smooth rush of the train as it sped on into the night. And before long he fell asleep. When he awakened the car was dark, though a faint gray light came through the window above him. He heard somebody walking softly down the aisle and wondered who it could be. The steps stopped.

  Chase heard a sound at his feet, and rose to see an arm withdrawn between the curtains. He promptly punched Enoch in the side. Enoch groaned and rolled over.

  " Some of the boys stealing our shoes," whispered Chase.

  " It's the porter wantin' 'em to shine," said Enoch sleepily. Then he raised his head and listened. " Yep, it's the porter. I'm glad you woke me. Now, listen an' you'll hear somethin' funny. Cas always smuggles his bull-pup into the car, an' hides him from the porter, an' then puts him to sleep at the foot of the berth. Thet porter will be after Cas's shoes pretty soon."

  At intervals of every few moments the porter's soft slipshod footsteps could be plainly heard. He was making toward the upper end of the car.


  " It's comin' to him, " whispered Enoch, tensely.

  A loud, savage, gurgling growl burst out in the stillness, and then yells of terror. A terrific uproar followed. Bumpings and bangings of a heavy body in the aisle; sharp whacks and blows; steady, persistent growling; screams of fright from the awakened women; wild peals of delight from the ball players; above all, the yelling of the porter, these sounds united to make a din that would have put a good-sized menagerie to the blush.

  It ended with the unlucky negro making his escape, and Cas coaxing his determined protector back into the berth. By and by silence once more reigned in the Pullman.

  Chase, having had his sleep, lay there as long as he could, and seeing it was broad daylight, decided he would crawl over Enoch and get out of the berth. By dint of some extraordinary exertions he got into his clothes and shoes. Climbing over Enoch was no difficult matter, though he did not accomplish it without awakening him. Then Chase parted the curtains, put his feet out, turned and grasped the curtain-pole, and balanced himself momentarily, preparatory to leaping down. The position was awkward for him, and as he loosened his knee-hold he slipped and fell. One of his feet went down hard into a very large, soft substance that suddenly heaved like a swelling wave. As Chase rolled into the aisle screams rent the air.

  " Help ! Help ! Thieves ! Murder ! Murder ! Murder ! "

  He had fallen on the fat woman in the lower berth. Chase saw a string of heads bobbing out of the curtains above and below, and he heard a mighty clamour that made the former one shrink by comparison.

  The conductor, brakeman, and porter rushed in. Chase tried to explain, but what with the wails of the outraged lady and the howls of the players it was impossible to make himself heard. He went away and hid in the smoking-car till the train stopped near Stubenville, where they were to change for Wheeling. When the Findlay team had all stepped off the Pullman, leaving the porter enriched and smiling his surprise, it was plain to Chase that he had risen in the regard of his fellow-players.

  " Say, Chase., you're coming on! "

  " You'll do, old man! " : 'It was the best ever! "