the Shortstop (1992)

by Grey, Zane

  "The fire-escape, my lad, is not in a lady's berth! "

  " Go wan! What you giving us? You kicked her in the stomach jest by accident? Go wan!"

  Chase found it impossible to make the boys believe that he had fallen from the upper berth and had stepped on the poor lady unintentionally.

  The run along the Ohio to Wheeling was a beautiful one, which Chase thoroughly enjoyed. It was his first sight of a majestic river. During the ride Mac sat beside him and descanted on baseball in general and base-running in particular.

  " Chase, a lad as fast as you ought to make all these catchers crawl under the bench. Now, listen to me. To get away quick is the secret. It 's all in the start. Of course, depend some on coachin', but use your head.

  Don't take too big a lead off the base. Fool the pitcher an' catcher. Make 'em think you ain't goin' down. Watch the pitcher an'. learn his motion. Then get your start jest as he begins to move. Before he moves is the time, but it takes practice. Run like a deer, watch the baseman, an' hit the dirt feet first an' twist out of his way. But pick out the right time. Of course when you get the hit-an'-run sign you 've got to go. Don't take chances in a close game. I say, don't as a rule. Sometimes a darin' steal wins a game. But there's time to take chances an' times not to. Got thet?"

  " Mac, where's the bat-sack? " asked one of the players, when they arrived at Wheeling.

  "Shure, I forgot it," said Mac, blankly. "I 'll have to buy some bats."

  "You ought to be in a bush-league," said one.

  " How do you expect us to hit without our bats?" asked another.

  " Did you forget my sticks? " cried Thatcher, champion-hitter, utterly lost without his favorite bats.

  Player after player loomed up over the little manager and threatened him in a way that would have convinced outsiders he had actually stolen the bats. Mac threw up his hands, and in wordless disgust climbed into the waiting bus.

  To Chase, riding to the hotel, having dinner, dressing for the game, and then a long bus-ride out to the island grounds were details of further enjoyment. Findlay was a great drawing-card and the stands were crowded. Chase was surprised to hear players spoken of familiarly, as if they were members of the home team. "That's Castorious, the great pitcher." "There's old man Hicks, but say! he can catch some." "See, that's good old Enoch, the coacher." "Where's the new short-stop? The papers say he's a wonder." Chase moved out of hearing then and began picking over the new bats Mac had bought. Enoch came up and looked them over, too.

  "Bum lot of sticks," he commented. " Say, Chase, Wheeling is a swell town to play in. The fans here like a good game an' don't care who wins. The kids are bad, though. Look out for them. This 's a good ground to hit on.

  You ought to lambaste a couple today. If Finnegan pitches, you wait for his slow ball and hit it over the fence."

  Findlay won the game 6 to 1. Castorious was invincible. Dude Thatcher hit one over the right-field fence, and Chase hit one over the left-field fence. The crowd cheered lustily after each of these long drives.

  When the players piled into the bus to ride back to the hotel Chase saw them bundling up their heads in sweaters, and soon divined the cause. His enlightenment came in the shape of a swiftly flying pebble that struck his head and made him see stars. As the bus rolled out of the grounds Chase saw a long lane lined with small boys.

  "Whip up your horses, you yayhoo ! " yelled Cas.

  " We 're off ! " shouted another.

  " Duck yer nuts! Low bridge! Down with yer noodles! "

  Then a shower of stones, mud, apples, and tin cans flew from all sides at the bus. The players fell on the floor and piled upon one another, in every way trying to hide their faces. Chase fell with them and squeezed down as well as he could to avoid the missiles. It was a veritable running of the gantlet, and lasted till the plunging bus had passed the lines and distanced the pursuers. Then came the strenuous efforts imperative to untangle a dozen or more youths of supple bodies. Only the fortunate players who had been quick enough to throw themselves to the floor first, had escaped bruises or splotched uniforms, and they were hardly better off because of the smashing they had received.

  "Gee! I got a lump on my head, all right," said Chase.

  " Thet was sweet as ridin' to slow music. Wait, wait till we strike Kenton."

  That evening after supper, while Chase was sitting in front of the hotel, Cas whispered to him to look out for tricks. He spent the evening in and around the lobby and kept his eyes open. Nothing happened, and at ten o'clock he went upstairs to find his room. He unlocked the door and opened it, to be deluged by a flood of water from overhead. Next a bucket fell on him and almost knocked him down. Shivering and thoroughly drenched, he fumbled on the bureau, finally found matches and struck a light. A bucket, two sticks, and a string lay on the floor in a great pool of water.

  " One of the t-tricks," muttered Chase, with chattering teeth.

  He locked his door, closed and fastened his transom, plugged the keyhole and then felt reasonably safe. For a long time there were mysterious goings on in that part of the hotel. Soft steps and subdued voices, snickerings, with occasionally a loud, angry noise, attested to the activity of those who were playing the tricks.

  Chase finally got to sleep and had a good night's rest. In the morning as he came out from breakfast he found most of his team assembled as usual in the lobby.

  " Hev a good night, Chase? " asked several.

  " Fine. Little wet, though, early in the evening," replied Chase, joining in the general laugh.

  " Watch for Brill. Don't miss it," said somebody.

  Brill was one of the pitchers, a good player, quiet in his demeanor, and rather an unknown quantity. He was a slow, easy-going Virginian. Presently he appeared on the stairs, came down, and with pale face and deliberate steps he approached the players.

  " Mawnin', boys," he said, in his Southern drawl. " I shore hev somethin' to say to yo' all. I don't mind about the ice-water, an' I don't mind about the piller somebody hit me with, but I tell yo' all right hyar, the fellar !who - put -thet - there - leap-frog - in - mah - - bed - is - goin'- to - git !licked ! "

  But Brill never found out who put the leap-frog in his bed. Wild horses could not have dragged the secret from his comrades.

  That evening, when the players were sitting in front of the hotel with their chairs tipped back, a slight, shabbily dressed woman with a dark shawl over her head approached and timidly asked for Mr. Castorious.

  " Here I am, ma'am. What can I do for you?" replied the pitcher, rising.

  "My husband sent me, sir. Jim Ayers he is, sir, an' used to work in Findlay, where he knew you," she said in a low voice. "He wants to know if you'll help him - lend him a little money. We're bad in need, sir,- an' I've a baby. Jim, he's been out of work an' only got a job last week, an' the second day he was run over by a team - "

  " I read it in the paper," interrupted Cas. "Yes, I remember Jim."

  "He said you'd remember him," she went on eagerly. " Jim, he had friends in Ohio. He oughtn't never to have left there. He hasn't done well here - but Jim 's the best fellow - he 's been good to me -an' never drinks except when he's down on his luck."

  Cas gently turned her toward the light. She was only a girl, pale, worn, sad. " Sure, I remember Jim," said Cas, hurriedly. "Fine fellow, Jim was, when he left off drinking. I'll lend Jim some money, Mrs. Ayers, if you'll promise to spend it on yourself and baby."

  The young woman hesitated, then with a wan, grateful smile murmured, " Thank you, sir, I will."

  "Now, you just go around the corner and wait." Castorious led her a few steps toward the corner.

  When she had gotten out of sight he took a roll of bills from his pocket, and detaching one, put it in his hat. " Dig up," he said, thrusting the hat under Mac's snub nose.

  " Cas, you're easy. You remember Ayers, don't you?" replied Mac.

  " I do. He was strictly N. G., a booze fighter, an all-around scamp. I wouldn't give him the price of a drink. B
ut that girl, his wife - did you see her face? "

  " I did," growled Mac, with his hand moving slowly toward his pocket.

  " Dig up, then."

  Mac dug, and generously. The tall pitcher loomed over Thatcher. "Can you spare the price of a few neckties to aid a poor woman? " he asked, sarcastically.

  " I can," instantly replied the Dude throwing a bill into Cas's hat.

  Ball players fight out rivalries even in their charities. Cas glanced grandly down on the Dude, and then passed to Havil.

  "The pot 's opened for five," he said to Havil. Next to shooting shot, Havil liked best a game of poker. In a flash he had contributed to the growing fund.

  " I 'm in, and it costs two more to play," he replied.

  "Hicks, come on."

  " Cas, I'm broke, an' Mac won't give me a cent till Saturday night," answered Hicks.

  " Borrow, then," rejoined Cas, curtly. He threw his roll of bills into the catcher's lap.

  Chase and several of the other players were ready for Cas, and so escaped calumny. Enoch mildly expostulated. " I 'm gettin' tired of bein' buncoed this way," he remarked.

  "Produce. Ain't you the captain? Don't you draw the biggest salary?

  Produce," went on the inexorable Cas.

  " But, Cas, you're always helpin' some beggar or other."

  " Wha-at ! " demanded Cas hotly. "It was only last week you touched the team for a nigger hobo. Produce!"

  Enoch meekly produced.

  " Wha 's the matter? " inquired Benny, lounging out of the hotel door. As usual he was under the influence of drink.

  " Hol' on, Cas -gee! Wha 's all the dough for? Lemme in."

  "Never mind, Benny," replied Cas. " Just raising a little collection for Jim Ayers' wife. Remember Jim?"

  " Got drunk with Jim many a time - hol' on there. Wha's the matter? Is my money counterfeit?"

  Benny was the most improvident of fellows. He seldom had any money.

  And his bad habit excluded him from many of the plans and pleasures of his comrades. "Say, Benny, this isn't a matter of the price of a beer," replied Cas, moving toward the corner.

  Benny straightened up. " You're only kiddin' me - if I thought you meant that for an insult - say! I'm Just as much a sport an' gennelman as you, any day."

  Thereupon Benny soberly thrust his hand into his pocket, pulled out a bill and some silver, soberly turned the pocket inside out to get the small change, and with great dignity dropped all the money into Cas's hat.

  Chapter X.

  MARJORY AND POND-LILIES.

  IT was July second, and Chase was happy. Many things had occurred to make him so; summed up, they made a great beautiful whole. The team had won fourteen straight victories before dropping a game to Columbus, and had come home in first place. He had kept up his good work, especially at the bat.

  Friends he had made everywhere. What a rousing welcome Findlay had given its team on home-coming! On the first of the month he had drawn one hundred dollars and had sent it home to his mother. While in Columbus Mac had taken him to see a surgeon, a wonderful specialist, who had injected something into the corner of his crooked eye, had cut a muscle or ligament, and then bound a little black cap over the eye, cautioning him to wear it till a certain time. Chase had managed to play with only one eye, but now the time was up. That morning he had temporarily slipped off the black cap to find he did not recognize the straight glanced, clear-eyed person in the mirror.

  Then there was another thing, which, though he would hardly admit it to his own consciousness, had more than all else added a brightness to his day. An exceptionally large and enthusiastic audience had attended yesterday's game, and in the grandstand, sitting among a merry crowd of young people, he had seen golden hair and blue eyes that he knew. He looked again to make sure. It was Marjory. And the whole grandstand seemed to grow gayer and brighter, the shrill cries of excited rooters had a joyous ring, the very sky and field took on a warmer color. The wonder of wonders was, that at a critical stage of the game, when by fast sprinting he scored a run, and was passing by the stand, he looked up to catch wonderfully, in all that sea of faces and waving hats, a smile meant for him.

  Even the abuse of his fellow-players, renewed doubly since the home-coming, had no power to affect him after that smile. And a significant remark of Mittie-Maru's had further enhanced the spell. "I've fixed it fer you, all right, all right. You mosey out along the river. See !"

  Chase had turned hot and cold at Mittie's speech, had lamely questioned him further, but nothing more, except elaborate winks, could be elicited from the mascot.

  And all this was why Chase was happy and roaming wild in the meadows. It was a soft, warm summer morning. The larks were turning their black-spotted yellow breasts to the sun and singing their sweet songs. Chase tramped and tramped, and ever resolutely tried to turn away from the maple-grove along the river. But every circle led that way, and he found himself at last in the shade of the trees. Through the bushes he caught a glance of the cool river, and then he saw a boat and a glimpse of blue and a gleam of gold. He tried to run away, but could not. His steps led him down the sandy path to the huge old maple.

  "Good-morning, Mr. Chase. Why, aren't you lost?" Marjory's blue eyes regarded him in laughing surprise.

  Chase had a vague thought that somehow he was lost, but all he could think of to say was that the weather was fine for the time of year. " It is !lovely," she said.

  Then he had a brilliant thought, and he wondered why it had not come sooner. " Were - you going to - row? "

  " Oh, yes. I always row every morning."

  " Might I - would you - I - I like to row."

  " You do? How nice! Then you must row me up to the meadow-pond where the lilies grow."

  Chase awkwardly got into the boat. Whatever was wrong with his hands and feet? When he had seated himself and straightened the oars he began to row. She was very close to him. He had not looked up, but he saw her little feet and the blue hem of her gown.

  " You 're rowing into the bank, " she said.

  "Why -so I am." Hastily he turned out and then was careful to row straight. The boat glided smoothly and silently. The little river meandered between high green banks. Tall trees cast shadows on the water. Here were dark patches of shade, there golden spaces of sun!shine. Birds were flitting and singing.

  "Have you seen Mittie-maru? " asked Chase.

  "Yes, indeed. Lots of times. I've seen his den and fished with him and we've rowed after pond-lilies and had fine times together."

  What was there in her simple, kind words to make him feel so strangely toward Mittie? Of course he was glad she had been with Mittie, but somehow the gladness was an entirely new thing. All at once he discovered he was sorry that the Findlay team had to play games on the road. If it had not been for that he could have helped her give Mittie a good time.

  "Here's the pond," said Marjory.

  "It's very shallow, so you must be careful or we 'll stick in the mud." Chase saw that the river widened out into a large basin. There were islands, and bogs, and piles of driftwood. The green and gold and white of pond-lilies sparkled on all sides. The place was alive with birds and water denizens. Kingfishers resented the invasion; water-wagtails skimmed the surface and screamed plaintive cries. Turtles splashed off stumps and frogs plunked under the lily pads. Snakes sunned themselves in bright places. And a great gray crane stood solemnly on one leg and watched.

  " I want a pink one," said Marjory, after Chase had gathered a mass of dripping lilies. He rowed around the pond, and at last located a lily of the desired color, but could not reach it from the boat. He stepped out upon a log and stretched as far as he could reach.

  " Oh ! You'll fall in! " cried Marjory, in sweet solicitude.

  Chase slipped off the log and went in with a great splash. The water came up to his waist. He managed by grasping a branch to avert a worse disaster, and securing the coveted pink lily, climbed back upon the log and so got into the boat.

&nb
sp; "You shouldn't have done that," she said. "It's nothing. I 'll dry in a little while."

  Then they both laughed. Chase rowed back to the bank and placed the boat so that Marjory was in the shade of an overhanging grape-vine, and he sat out in the sun. Somehow her merry laughter had given him courage, so he raised his glance to look at her. She had been only pretty before. Now! But the blue of her eyes meeting his drove away his thoughts.

  " When will you be able to - to take off that eye-shield?" she asked. " Why - how did you know? " he asked, breathlessly.

  " I heard, and I read the baseball notes every day."

  "You do?" exclaimed Chase. Then he took off the shield and threw it away.

  " Oh ! I'm glad. But - but are you sure it's time."

  " Yes. I only waited because - well that is - I - I wanted you to see me first."

  This appeared to be an unfortunate remark, for Marjory colored a soft rose under her white cheeks, and began diligently to sort the lilies.

  "Mittie-maru will be glad," said Chase.

  "If only he could be cured, too!" she replied. "Do you know he suffers all the time, and sometimes dreadfully, yet he never says a word?"

  Yes, I know. Poor Mittie ! " Chase found it much easier to talk, now she avoided looking at him. "You were at the game yesterday. Do you like baseball? "

  " Oh, yes, indeed. I like the running, and I love to see the ball flying, but I don't understand much of the game."

  " Won't you let me teach you? " "Thank you, that would be nice, but I 'm so stupid."

  " Stupid! You? " Chase laughed at the hint of such an impossibility. A blue flitting gleam flashed upon him from under the long lashes. " Oh, I am.

  Now what is a bingo?

  " A bingo ? Why that's baseball talk for a safe hit, a ball knocked safely out of the reach of a fielder."

  " What does Captain Winters mean when he hops round the base and yells 'Mugg's Landing! Irish stew! Ras-patas' ? "

  "He's coaching then, saying any old thing to try to rattle the pitcher."

  " Oh, is that it? What do you do with a base after you steal it?"