The practice soon came to an end, and then the five-innings game with the scrubs started. This proved to be quite a contest, and Fred Rover distinguished himself by knocking a three-bagger, while Jack struck out six batsmen, much to his satisfaction. When the contest came to a close the regular nine had won by a score of 11 to 3.
“Well, that shows the old nine is still in the running,” remarked Dan Soppinger, when the boys were rushing to the gymnasium to get under the showers.
“Right you are, Dan,” answered Jack. “Just the same, that scrub team isn’t Hixley High, or Columbus or Longley, either, please don’t forget that.”
“Oh, I know that just as well as you do, Jack. We’ve got to play much better than we did to-day if we expect any victories in the regular games.”
“Don’t forget that we’ll be up against Dink Wilsey again,” said Gif.
“I don’t believe that any of us are likely to forget it,” grinned Dan. All remembered Dink Wilsey very well. He was the pitcher for Hixley High and a fellow who was destined to become talked about in baseball circles. He had a puzzling delivery, and sometimes struck out even the best of the batsmen with ease.
From that day forth Jack and the other members of the ball team put in every spare moment at practice. Gradually the young pitcher obtained better control of the sphere, and then he did what he could to increase his speed and make his curves more puzzling.
The contest with Hixley High was to take place on the latter’s grounds, and almost all the pupils at Colby Hall made the journey to see the game. Many girls were also present from Clearwater Hall and from the town.
“Oh, Jack, I hope you win!” said Ruth Stevenson, as he strode forward to greet her and the others who had arrived from the girls’ school.
“We’re going to do our best, Ruth,” answered the young pitcher. And then, as he noticed something of a cloud on her face, he added jokingly: “You don’t have to look so glum about it.”
“I’m not glum over the game, Jack. I was thinking of something else,” she answered soberly.
“Why, what’s the matter, Ruth—has anything gone wrong?”
“Yes, Jack. But—but maybe I’d better not tell you anything about it,” she faltered.
“Has anybody been annoying you?”
“I can’t tell you now—I’ll tell you after the game if I get a chance,” whispered Ruth, as several of the other boys and girls came closer.
At that moment came a blare of tin horns and the noise of many rattles, and then the Hixley High boys let out a wild yelling:
“Hixley High! Hixley High! Hixley High forever!” and this was repeated over and over again.
“Wake up, fellows!” came suddenly in a bellow from Ned Lowe. “Everybody wake up for Colby Hall!” And then there boomed out this refrain:
“Who are we?Can’t you see?Colby Hall!Dum! Dum! Dum, dum, dum!Here we come with fife and drum!Colby! Colby! Colby Hall!”
“That’s the stuff! Give it to ‘em again!” yelled Fatty Hendry, wiping the perspiration from his forehead, and once more the school refrain boomed forth.
“Oh, isn’t that grand!” remarked Mary Rover.
“The best ever!” answered her cousin Martha.
“It makes me feel just as if I was being raised off my feet,” remarked May Powell.
The game began with Hixley High at the bat. There was a wild cheering for Rigby, the center-fielder, when he came up, stick in hand, and also yells of encouragement for Jack.
“Put him out in one-two-three order, Jack!”
“Don’t let him get a smell at first!”
“Knock the cover off it, Rigby! Make a homer!”
After two strikes, one of them a foul, Rigby managed to get a safe hit to first. But then Jack tightened up and presently the side was retired without a run.
“That’s the stuff! Hold ‘em to goose eggs all the way through!”
“Now, then, Colby, go to it and make a couple!”
But alas for this hope! One player got as far as third, but there the inning ended.
Goose eggs also went up for both sides in the second, third and fourth innings. Then two players of Hixley High managed to make singles, and on a fumble by one of the new men playing for Colby one of these hits was turned into a run.
“Hurrah! Hurrah! That’s the stuff! Score one for Hixley!”
“Hold ‘em down! Hold ‘em down! Don’t let ‘em score again!” came from the Colby Hall supporters. And the players from the military school did “hold ‘em down” to the single tally which had been made.
With the score 1 to 0, the game ran along to the eighth inning. Then Dan Soppinger managed to knock out a two-bagger, and he was followed at the plate by Randy. Two men were already out, so it was a crucial moment in more ways than one.
Dink Wilsey was still in good form, although the strain was evidently telling upon him. He sent in two swift balls, which were called strikes, one being a foul. Then came two wide ones, which were put down as balls by the umpire.
“Hit it, Randy!” sang out Gif. “Paste it for all you know how!”
Randy was on the alert, and although the next ball pitched was a bit low, he swung for it, sending it down toward right field.
“Run, Dan! Run!”
“Leg it, Randy!”
And both players did run for all they were worth. Dan had started as Randy swung for the sphere, and consequently touched third a few seconds later. Then, as he saw the ball was still down in right field with the fielder chasing madly after it, he came in to the home plate. Randy had meanwhile reached first and was halfway to second, which he reached safely by sliding.
“Hurrah! One run for Colby Hall!”
“And Randy Rover made it a two-bagger!”
“Some playing, I’ll say!”
The excitement was now intense as Colby Hall saw a chance to win. But this chance went glimmering a few seconds later when a pop-fly was gathered in with ease by the Hixley pitcher.
“Never mind, we’ve tied the score, and that’s something,” said Gif. “Now all we need do is to hold them down and make one more run.”
In the ninth inning Hixley High fought desperately to score, and Colby Hall did the same. But neither side got further than first.
“A tie game! A tie game!” was the cry.
“Now, then, it takes only one run to win!”
The excitement was now at a fever heat, and this continued through the tenth and eleventh innings. By this time it was growing dark, so that the fielders had difficulty in seeing the ball.
“I think we had better call it a tie and let it go at that,” said the Hixley captain to Gif. “What do you think about it?”
There was a brief consultation, and several of the regular school coaches were called in. In the meanwhile it grew darker rapidly, and presently the contest was called off.
“It’s too bad we couldn’t finish it,” remarked Jack, as he shook hands with Dink Wilsey.
“We’ll have to finish it next year,” said the rival pitcher, with a grin.
There was a good deal of talk about the contest, but gradually the crowd dispersed, and many of the Colby boys started for the Hall. The Rovers and some of their chums rejoined the girls, and walked with them to the automobiles which were to take Martha and Mary and the others back to Clearwater Hall.
“I’m so sorry you fellows didn’t win that game,” pouted May Powell, on the way.
“Well, we did our best,” answered Fred. “And believe me, it’s something to hold down a school like Hixley with such a pitcher as Dink Wilsey.”
“You don’t mean to say he can pitch any better than Jack!” put in Ruth quickly.
“Oh, I’m not saying anything against Jack,” answered Fred. “Just the same, Dink’s a great pitcher, and Jack will say so himself.”
“He cert
ainly is,” was the reply from the oldest Rover boy. “He’ll be on one of the professional teams one of these days. If Longley Academy has any such pitcher in Tommy Flanders, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”
Most of the boys and girls went on to where the automobiles were in waiting, but Jack kept to the rear until the whole crowd were out of hearing.
“Now, then, Ruth, tell me what is troubling you,” he said in a low voice.
“Oh, Jack, I don’t believe I ought to tell you! I should have torn it up and forgotten all about it,” returned the girl.
“Torn it up? What do you mean? Was it a letter?”
“Yes, a letter that came yesterday. It is nothing but a scrawl, and it’s unsigned. It was sent from New York.”
“What did the letter say? Did somebody threaten you, Ruth?”
“No, Jack. Somebody threatened you. If it hadn’t been for that, I wouldn’t think of bothering you about it.”
“Humph! this is interesting. Have you got the letter with you?”
“Yes. Here it is,” and the girl brought forth the letter from her handbag. As she had said, it was postmarked New York City, and was addressed to her at the school. The envelope was a plain one, and inside was a single sheet of plain white paper. On this, evidently in a disguised hand, had been scrawled the following:
Ruth Stevenson: If you know when you are well off you won’t have much to do with Jack Rover or his cousins. They are a bum lot and some day you will be ashamed of every one of them. Jack Rover never treated anybody square, and some day you can take it from me that I intend to pound his handsome face into a jelly. Better listen to my warning, or you will be very sorry you had anything to do with that crowd.
“A Friend.”
CHAPTER VII
NEWS FROM ABROAD
“That’s a fine letter, I must say!” remarked Jack, after perusing the scrawl a second time. “Evidently the writer loves me a whole lot.”
“Of course it must have come from one of those fellows who used to go to school with you,” said Ruth. “Perhaps that Martell boy or that Brown boy.”
“I don’t think Nappy Martell would dare send such a letter,” answered the young captain of the cadets. “It would be more like Slugger Brown to do it. But you must remember that those fellows have just been released from that detention camp.” Jack mused for a moment. “This looks more like the work of Gabe Werner to me.”
“Oh, Jack! suppose he should attack you some time when you weren’t aware?”
“That’s a risk a fellow has to run. Of course, I expect to keep on my guard, not only against Gabe Werner but also against Martell, Brown and Glutts. The whole four don’t like any of our crowd.”
“But just read the dreadful thing he says,” continued the girl, as she caught Jack tightly by the arm. “He says he’ll pound your face into a jelly! Oh, Jack! don’t you ever give him a chance to do that,” and Ruth’s face showed her solicitude.
“There is one thing you have to remember, Ruth, and that is the writer of an anonymous letter is generally a coward,” Jack answered as lightly as he could, more to ease her feelings than anything else. “So don’t you worry about this letter. Have you mentioned it to any of the others?”
“No; I didn’t want to worry them.”
“I’m glad you didn’t say anything to Martha and Mary. I know it would upset them a good deal, and maybe they would think they’d have to write to their mothers about it. Just keep it to yourself. And please don’t destroy that letter; it might come in useful some time. Maybe we can trace the handwriting.”
“But you’ll tell your cousins at the Hall, won’t you?”
“Yes; I think I had better, so that they can be on their guard, too. We don’t want to run any unnecessary chances when it comes to those rascals.” And there the talk on this subject came to an end.
It was not until late that evening, when the four Rovers were retiring, that Jack got a chance to mention the anonymous letter to his cousins. All were tremendously interested, and speculated on who the writer could be.
“My opinion is it was either Gabe Werner or Slugger Brown,” said Randy. “Neither Nappy Martell nor Bill Glutts would have the nerve to do it.”
“I’ll side with Jack and say it was Werner,” said Fred.
“And I’ll side with my brother and say it was either Slugger or Werner,” added Andy.
Two days later came word which filled the Rover boys with joy. It was announced that, as the war in Europe was at an end, Colonel Colby might be expected home any day.
“Hurrah! that means that our folks will be coming home too before long!” cried Fred, throwing up his cap. “Isn’t this the best ever!”
“Maybe we’ll get word from our fathers in a day or two,” returned Andy. “Anyway, I hope so.”
“My! what a grand old time we ought to have when they do get home,” said Randy, his eyes glistening.
“We’ll tear the woodpile down!” announced his twin, and then turned a handspring just to ease his feelings.
The talk among the cadets at the Hall was now divided between the return of Colonel Colby and the baseball game with Columbus Academy. In the meantime Hixley High played a game with Longley Academy and lost by a score of 3 to 7.
“Gee! that doesn’t look good to me,” announced Gif soberly, when the news came in. “All we could do this year was to hold them to that tie.”
“That score would seem to prove that the Longley nine is just about twice as good as the Hixley nine,” remarked Dan.
“I see by the score that Tommy Flanders struck out nine men. He certainly must have been going some,” came from Fred, who was studying the score sheet with interest.
“Yes, and the Longley fellows made two home-runs and three two-baggers,” put in Spouter. “I must say they didn’t do a thing to Hixley High but punch holes into them.”
“We’ve certainly got our work cut out for us,” announced Jack, and then went to practicing harder than ever.
But if the score between Longley and Hixley had been a disappointment to the Colby Hall team, there was quite a little comfort for them in the game with Columbus Academy. The Columbus boys did their level best to win, and yet when the game came to an end Colby Hall was the victor by a score of 8 to 3.
“Well, that shows we are still in the running!” cried Gif that evening. “Those Columbus fellows certainly put up a stiff game.”
“They certainly did!” answered Randy. “Their pitcher wasn’t such a wonder, but their fielding was certainly great and they have some very good batsmen.”
“Yes, and their shortstop is as good as you can find them,” added Spouter.
“I’ve got one complaint to make about that game,” said Ralph Mason, who was the major of the school battalion. “I don’t know whether I ought to speak to you fellows about it or to Captain Dale.”
“What is that, Major?” questioned Gif quickly.
“It has to do with little Henry Stowell,” answered the young major seriously.
“Oh, I think I know what you mean!” cried Ned Lowe. “Isn’t it the way in which he was talking to some of those Columbus players?”
“It is,” was Ralph Mason’s reply. “Then you heard it too, did you?”
“I heard a little. I hoped to hear more, but just then somebody came up and took me away.”
“If it was about the ball game, Major, I think I ought to know of it,” said Gif.
“The trouble is, Gif, I don’t really know whether Stowell meant anything by it or not—or rather if he understood what he was doing. He is so very innocent in some things I hate to accuse him of actual wrong-doing. But one thing is certain: Those Columbus Academy fellows pumped him as much as they could about our players, and especially about Jack Rover’s style of pitching. And they also asked a great number of questions about the two new players on the nin
e.”
“Codfish is a sneak, and always was!” burst out Dan Soppinger. “Oh, I know you fellows feel inclined to stick up for him,” he added, looking at the Rovers; “and once in a while I feel sorry for him myself. But, just the same, he isn’t to be trusted.”
“If you’ll excuse me for saying something, Major, I don’t think I’d take the matter to Captain Dale—at least not just yet,” put in Jack. This conversation took place during the cadets’ off time, and the young captain felt he could talk freely to his superior officer. “If we find that Stowell really tried to injure us, I guess we can take care of him,” and he smiled suggestively.
“All right, we’ll let it go at that,” answered Ralph Mason; and then walked away, satisfied in his own mind that he had said quite enough to the other boys.
By careful inquiry it was ascertained that several other cadets had noticed Stowell talking to some of the Columbus students and had overheard some of the remarks. All were of the opinion that the little cadet had told altogether too much, although it was possible that he was innocent in the matter.
“We certainly ought to teach him some kind of a lesson,” remarked Andy.
“I wonder where Codfish is now?” questioned his twin quickly.
“I don’t know, but I think we can soon find out. Come on—let us look him up.”
“Hi! what are you up to?” demanded Jack, feeling that something was in the air.
“Oh, let them go, Jack!” cried Fred. And then he added to the twins: “If it’s anything worth seeing, let us know about it.”
“We will!” called back Andy gaily.
The twins hunted around the school, and at last found Henry Stowell in the gymnasium, where he was sitting on a bench watching some other cadets going through their athletic exercises.
“If we can only manage to keep him here a while we might be able to fix up something in his room for him,” suggested Randy.
“I guess that would be easy,” answered his twin. “There is Walt Baxter. We’ll get him to engage Codfish’s attention for a while.”
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