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diff --git a/38897-h/38897-h.htm b/38897-h/38897-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce896f2 --- /dev/null +++ b/38897-h/38897-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9780 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Baseball Joe on the School Nine, + by Lester Chadwick. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.chap {width: 65%} + +table { + margin-top: 1em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.tdl {text-align: left;} +.tdc {text-align: center;} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + + +/* ===================== */ +/* DACSoft custom styles */ +/* ===================== */ + +/* Indented paragraph - replacement */ +p { + margin-top: .51em; + margin-bottom: .49em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +/* Unindented paragraph style */ +.noi { + text-indent: 0em; +} + +/* Centered unindented paragraph style */ +.noic { + text-indent: 0em; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Hanging indent. */ +.hang { + text-indent: -6em; + padding-left: 7em; +} + +/* Additional separtator lines. */ +hr.r15 { + width: 15%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; +} + +hr.r95 { + width: 95%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; +} + +/* Table cell alignments */ +td.tdrb { + text-align: right; + vertical-align: bottom; +} + +td.tdrt { + text-align: right; + vertical-align: top; +} + +/* Title page borders and content. */ +.tp1 { + border: 2px solid black; + padding: 2px; + text-align: center; + margin: auto; + width: 368px; +} + +.tp2 { + border: 1px solid black; + padding: 2px; + text-align: center; + margin: auto; + width: 360px; +} + +.tp3 { + border: 2px solid black; + padding: 2px; + text-align: center; + margin: auto; + width: 420px; +} + +.subtitle { + font-size: 1.5em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +.author { + font-size: 1.25em; + margin-top: 2em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +.works { + font-size: .75em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +/* Smaller page numbers - replacement */ +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: x-small; + text-align: right; + color: gray; +} /* page numbers */ + +/* Illustration page. */ +.illpage { + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%; +} + +/* Advertisement formatting. */ +.adtitle { + font-size: 1.5em; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +.adauthor { + font-size: 1.25em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +/* Transcriber's Notes - replacement. */ +.tnote { + background-color: #E6E6FA; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; +} + +.tntitle { + font-size: 1.25em; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Baseball Joe on the School Nine, by Lester Chadwick + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Baseball Joe on the School Nine + or, Pitching for the Blue Banner + +Author: Lester Chadwick + +Release Date: February 16, 2012 [EBook #38897] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 391px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="391" height="600" alt="cover" title="cover" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 379px;"> +<a name="image01" id="image01"><img src="images/image01.jpg" width="379" height="600" alt="THE NEXT MOMENT THE HORSEHIDE WENT SPEEDING TOWARD THE PLATE." title="THE NEXT MOMENT THE HORSEHIDE WENT SPEEDING TOWARD THE PLATE." /></a> +<br /><span class="caption"><a href="#Page_200">THE NEXT MOMENT THE HORSEHIDE WENT SPEEDING +TOWARD THE PLATE.</a></span> +</div> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="tp1"> +<div class="tp2"> +<h1>Baseball Joe on<br /> +the School Nine</h1> + +<p class="noic">OR</p> + +<p class="noi subtitle">Pitching <i>for the</i> Blue Banner</p> + +<p class="noi author"><i>By</i> LESTER CHADWICK</p> + +<p class="noi works">AUTHOR OF<br /> +“BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS,” “THE<br /> +RIVAL PITCHERS,” “A QUARTER-BACK’S PLUCK,”<br /> +“BATTING TO WIN,” ETC.</p> + +<p class="p2 noi works"><i>ILLUSTRATED</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50px;"> +<img src="images/logo.jpg" width="50" height="26" alt="logo" title="logo" /> +</div> + +<p class="p6 noi works">NEW YORK</p> + +<p class="noic">CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY</p> +</div> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="tp3"> +<p class="noic"><b>BOOKS BY LESTER CHADWICK</b></p> + +<hr class="r95" /> +<p class="noic"><b>THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES<br /> +12mo. Illustrated</b></p> + +<p class="noi hang">BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS<br /> + Or The Rivals of Riverside</p> + +<p class="noi hang">BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE<br /> + Or Pitching for the Blue Banner</p> + +<p class="noic">(<i>Other Volumes in Preparation</i>)</p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p class="noic"><b>THE COLLEGE SPORTS SERIES<br /> +12mo. Illustrated</b></p> + +<p class="noi hang">THE RIVAL PITCHERS<br /> + A Story of College Baseball</p> + +<p class="noi hang">A QUARTER-BACK’S PLUCK<br /> + A Story of College Football</p> + +<p class="noi hang">BATTING TO WIN<br /> + A Story of College Baseball</p> + +<p class="noi hang">THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN<br /> + A Story of College Football</p> + +<p class="noic">(<i>Other Volumes in Preparation</i>)</p> + +<hr class="r95" /> +<p class="noic"><b>CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, New York</b></p> +</div> + +<p class="p2 noic">Copyright, 1912, by<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cupples & Leon Company</span></p> + +<hr class="r15" /> +<p class="noic"><b>Baseball Joe on the School Nine</b></p> + + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<col style="width: 20%;" /> +<col style="width: 70%;" /> +<col style="width: 10%;" /> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">CHAPTER</td> + <td class="tdl"></td> + <td class="tdrt">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">I</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Hitting a Teacher</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">1</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">II</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">Planning a Battle</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">12</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">III</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">An Angry Bully</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">23</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">IV</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Joe Learns Something</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">31</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">V</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">The Tables Turned</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">40</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">VI</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">The Bully Sneers</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">52</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">VII</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">A Clash with Luke</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">58</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">VIII</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">“Who Will Pitch?”</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">68</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">IX</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">Tom’s Plan Fails</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">74</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">X</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">The Banner Parade</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">82</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XI</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">Joe Hopes and Fears</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">92</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XII</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">On the Scrub</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">98</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIII</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">Joe’s Great Work</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">106</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIV</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">The Game at Morningside</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">115</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XV</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">A Strange Discovery</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">124</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVI</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">A Hot Meeting</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">130</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVII</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">The Initiation</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">136</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVIII</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">“Fire!”</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">143</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIX</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">A Thrilling Rescue</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">150</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XX</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">The Warning</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">160</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXI</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">Bad News</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">167</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXII</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">Bitter Defeat</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">173</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIII</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">Hiram is Out</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">183</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIV</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">Two of a Kind</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">190</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXV</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">By a Close Margin</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">198</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVI</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">The Overturned Statue</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">211</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVII</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">On Probation</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">218</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVIII</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">Luke’s Confession</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">224</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIX</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">A Glorious Victory</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">233</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXX</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">Good News—Conclusion</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">240</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<div class="illpage"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#image01">THE NEXT MOMENT THE HORSEHIDE WENT SPEEDING TOWARD +THE PLATE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#image02">HIRAM SHELL WENT SLIPPING AND SLIDING DOWN THE OUTSIDE WALL OF THE SNOW +FORT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#image03">AROUND THE MORNINGSIDE DIAMOND MARCHED THE SINGING, CHEERING AND YELLING +LADS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tdl"><a href="#image04">THE WHITE BALL WAS PLAINLY VISIBLE AS IT SAILED THROUGH THE AIR.</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h1>BASEBALL JOE ON THE +SCHOOL NINE</h1> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></h2> + +<h3>HITTING A TEACHER</h3> + + +<p>“Look out now, fellows; here goes for a high +one!”</p> + +<p>“Aw come off; you can’t throw high without +dislocating your arm, Peaches. Don’t try it.”</p> + +<p>“You get off the earth; I can so, Teeter. +Watch me.”</p> + +<p>“Let Joe Matson have a try. He can throw +higher than you can, Peaches,” and the lad who +had last spoken grasped the arm of a tall boy, +with a very fair complexion which had gained +him the nickname of “Peaches and Cream,” +though it was usually shortened to “Peaches.” +There was a crowd of lads on the school grounds, +throwing snowballs, when the offer of “Peaches” +or Dick Lantfeld was made.</p> + +<p>“Don’t let him throw, Teeter,” begged George +Bland, jokingly.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I’ll not,” retorted “Teeter” Nelson, whose +first name was Harry, but who had gained his +appellation because of a habit he had of “teetering” +on his tiptoes when reciting in class. “I’ve +got Peaches all right,” and there was a struggle +between the two lads, one trying to throw a snowball, +and the other trying to prevent him.</p> + +<p>“Come on, Joe,” called Teeter, to a tall, good-looking, +and rather quiet youth who stood beside +a companion. “Let’s see you throw. You’re always +good at it, and I’ll keep Peaches out of the +way.”</p> + +<p>“Shall we try, Tom?” asked Joe Matson of +his chum.</p> + +<p>“Might as well. Come on!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, let ‘Sister’ Davis have a whack at it +too,” urged George Bland. Tom Davis, who was +Joe Matson’s particular chum, was designated +“Sister” because, in an incautious moment, when +first coming to Excelsior Hall, he had shown a +picture of his very pretty sister, Mabel.</p> + +<p>Tom and Joe, who had come upon the group +of other pupils after the impromptu snowball +throwing contest had started, advanced further toward +their school companions. Peaches and +Teeter were still engaged in their friendly struggle, +until Peaches tripped over a stone, concealed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +under a blanket of snow, and both went down in +a struggling heap.</p> + +<p>“Make it a touchdown!” yelled George Bland.</p> + +<p>“Yes, shove him over the line, Peaches!” +cried Tom.</p> + +<p>“Hold him! Hold him!” implored Joe, and +the little group of lads, which was increased by the +addition of several other pupils, circled about the +struggling ones, laughing at their plight.</p> + +<p>“D-d-down!” finally panted Peaches, when +Teeter held his face in the soft snow. “Let me +up, will you?”</p> + +<p>“Promise not to try to throw a high one?” +asked Teeter, still maintaining his position astride +of Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Yes—I—I guess so.”</p> + +<p>“That doesn’t go with me; you’ve got to be +sure.”</p> + +<p>“All right, let a fellow up, will you? There’s +a lot of snow down my neck.”</p> + +<p>“That’s what happened to me the last time you +fired a high snowball, Peaches. That’s why I +didn’t want you to try another while I’m around. +You wait until I’m off the campus if you’ve got to +indulge in high jinks. Come on now, fellows, +since Peaches has promised to behave himself, let +the merry dance go on. Have you tried a shot,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +Joe? Or you, Sister,” and Teeter looked at the +newcomers.</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” answered Joe Matson with a smile. +“Haven’t had a chance.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” put in Tom Davis. “You +started a rough-house with Peaches as soon as we +got here. What’s on, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, we’re just seeing how straight we can +aim with snowballs,” explained Teeter. “See if +you can hit that barrel head down there,” and he +pointed to the object in question, about forty yards +away on the school campus.</p> + +<p>“See if you can hit the barrel, Joe,” urged +George Bland. “A lot of us have missed it, including +Peaches, who seems to think his particular +stunt is high throwing.”</p> + +<p>“And so it is!” interrupted the lad with the +clear complexion. “I can beat any one here +at——”</p> + +<p>“Save that talk until the baseball season +opens!” retorted Teeter. “Go ahead, Joe and +Tom. And you other fellows can try if you like,” +he added, for several more pupils had joined the +group.</p> + +<p>It might seem easy to hit the head of a barrel +at that distance, but either the lads were not expert +enough or else the snowballs, being of irregular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +shapes and rather light, did not carry well. +Whatever the cause, the fact remained that the +barrel received only a few scattering shots and +these on the outer edges of the head.</p> + +<p>“Now we’ll see what Sister Davis can do!” +exclaimed Nat Pierson, as Joe’s chum stepped up +to the firing line.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m not so much,” answered Tom with a +half smile. “Joe will beat me all to pieces.”</p> + +<p>“Joe Matson sure can throw,” commented +Teeter, in a low voice to George Bland. “I remember +what straight aim he had the last time we +built a fort, and had a snow fight.”</p> + +<p>“I should say yes,” agreed George. “And talk +about speed!” he added. “Wow! One ball he +threw soaked me in the ear. I can feel it yet!” +and he rubbed the side of his head reflectively.</p> + +<p>The first ball that Tom threw just clipped the +upper rim of the barrel head, and there were some +exclamations of admiration. The second one was +a clean miss, but not by a large margin. The third +missile split into fragments on the rim of the +head.</p> + +<p>“Good!” cried Peaches. “That’s the way to +do it!”</p> + +<p>“Wait until you see Joe plug it,” retorted Tom +with a smile.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m not such a wonder,” remarked our +hero modestly, as he advanced to the line. In his +hand he held three very hard and smooth snowballs, +which he spent some time in making in anticipation +of his turn to throw. “I haven’t had +much practice lately,” he went on, “though I used +to throw pretty straight when the baseball season +was on.”</p> + +<p>Joe carefully measured with his eye the distance +to the barrel. Then he swung his arm +around a few times to “limber up.”</p> + +<p>“That fellow used to pitch on some nine, I’ll +wager,” said Teeter in a whisper to Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I heard something about him being a +star on some small country team,” was the retort. +“But let’s watch him.”</p> + +<p>Joe threw. The ball left his hand with tremendous +speed and, an instant later, had struck +the head of the barrel with a resounding “ping!”</p> + +<p>“In the centre! In the centre!” yelled Peaches +with enthusiasm as he capered about.</p> + +<p>“A mighty good shot!” complimented Teeter, +doing his particular toe stunt.</p> + +<p>“Not exactly in the centre,” admitted Joe. +“Here goes for another.”</p> + +<p>Once more he threw, and again the snowball<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +hit the barrel head, close to the first, but not quite +so near the middle.</p> + +<p>“You can do better than that, Joe,” spoke Tom +in a low voice.</p> + +<p>“I’m going to try,” was all the thrower said.</p> + +<p>Again his arm was swung around with the peculiar +motion used by many good baseball pitchers. +Again the snowball shot forward, whizzing +through the air. Again came that resounding +thud on the hollow barrel, this time louder than +before.</p> + +<p>“Right on the nose!”</p> + +<p>“A clean middle shot!”</p> + +<p>“A good plunk!”</p> + +<p>These cries greeted Joe’s last effort, and, sure +enough, when several lads ran to get a closer view +of the barrel, they came back to report that the +ball was exactly in the centre of the head.</p> + +<p>“Say, you’re a wonder!” exclaimed Peaches, +admiringly.</p> + +<p>“Who’s a wonder?” inquired a new voice, and +a tall heavily-built lad, with rather a coarse and +brutal face, sauntered up to the group. “Who’s +been doing wonderful stunts, Peaches?”</p> + +<p>“Joe Matson here. He hit the barrel head +three times out of three, and the best any of us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +could do was once. Besides, Joe poked it in the +exact centre once, and nearly twice.”</p> + +<p>“That’s easy,” spoke the newcomer, with a +sneer in his voice.</p> + +<p>“Let’s see you do it, Shell,” invited George +Bland.</p> + +<p>“Go on, Hiram, show ’em what you can do,” +urged Luke Fodick, who was a sort of toady to +Hiram Shell, the school bully, if ever there was +one.</p> + +<p>“Just watch me,” requested Hiram, and hastily +taking some hard round snowballs away from a +smaller lad who had made them for his own use, +the bully threw.</p> + +<p>I must do him the credit to say that he was a +good shot, and all three of his missiles hit the +barrel head. But two of them clipped the outer +edge, and only one was completely on, and that +nowhere near the centre.</p> + +<p>“Joe Matson’s got you beat a mile!” exclaimed +Peaches.</p> + +<p>“That’s all right,” answered Hiram with the +easy superior air he generally assumed. “If I’d +been practicing all day as you fellows have I could +poke the centre every time, too.”</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, those three balls were the +first Joe had thrown that day, but he did not think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +it wise to say so, for Hiram had mean ways about +him, and none of the pupils at Excelsior Hall +cared to rouse his anger unnecessarily.</p> + +<p>“Well, I guess we’ve all had our turns,” spoke +George Bland, after Hiram had thrown a few +more balls so carelessly as to miss the barrel entirely.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t,” piped up Tommy Burton, one of +the youngest lads. “Hiram took my snowballs.”</p> + +<p>“Aw, what of it, kid?” sneered the bully. +“There’s lots more snow. Make yourself another +set and see what you can do.”</p> + +<p>But Tommy was bashful, and the attention he +had thus drawn upon himself made him blush. +He was a timid lad and he shrank away now, +evidently fearing Shell.</p> + +<p>“Never mind,” spoke Peaches kindly, “we’ll +have another contest soon and you can be in it.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s see who can throw the farthest,” suggested +Hiram. His great strength gave him a +decided advantage in this, as he very well knew.</p> + +<p>The other boys also knew this, but did not like +to refuse to enter the lists with him, so the long-distance +throwing was started. Hiram did throw +hard and far, but he met his match in Joe Matson, +and the bully evidently did not like it. He sneered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +at Joe’s style and did his best to beat him, but +could not.</p> + +<p>“I ate too much dinner to-day,” said Hiram +finally, as an excuse, “so I can’t throw well,” and +though there were covert smiles at this palpable +excuse, no one said anything. Then came other +contests, throwing at trees and different objects. +Finally Hiram and Luke took themselves off, and +everyone else was glad of it.</p> + +<p>“He’s only a bluff, Shell is!” murmured +Peaches.</p> + +<p>“And mean,” added George.</p> + +<p>“Joe, I wonder if you can throw over those +trees,” spoke Tom, pointing to a fringe of big +maples which bordered a walk that ran around +the school campus. “That’s something of a +throw for height and distance. Want to try?”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” assented our hero, “though I don’t +know as I can do it.”</p> + +<p>“Wait, I’m with you,” put in Peaches. “We’ll +throw together.”</p> + +<p>They quickly made a couple of hard, smooth +balls, and at the word from Tom, Joe and +Peaches let go together, for it was to be a sort of +contest in swiftness.</p> + +<p>The white missiles sailed through the air side +by side, and not far apart. Higher and higher<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +they went, until they both topped the trees, and +began to go down on the other side. Joe’s was +far in advance of the snowball of Peaches, however, +and went higher.</p> + +<p>As the balls descended and went out of sight, +there suddenly arose from the other side of the +trees a series of expostulating yells.</p> + +<p>“Stop it! Stop that, I say! How dare you +throw snowballs at me? I shall report you at +once! Who are you? Don’t you dare to run!”</p> + +<p>“We—we hit some one,” faltered Peaches, his +fair complexion blushing a bright red.</p> + +<p>“I—I guess we did,” admitted Joe.</p> + +<p>There was no doubt of it a moment later, for +through the trees came running a figure whose +tall hat was battered over his head by the snowballs, +some fragments of the missiles still clinging +to the tile.</p> + +<p>“You sure did,” added Teeter, stifling a laugh. +“And of all persons in the school but Professor +Rodd. Oh my! Oh wow! You’re in for it now! +He won’t do a thing to you fellows! Look at his +hat! Here he comes!”</p> + +<p>Professor Elias Rodd, one of the strictest and +certainly the “fussiest” instructor at Excelsior, +was hurrying toward the group of boys.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></h2> + +<h3>PLANNING A BATTLE</h3> + + +<p>Professor Elias Rodd was rather elderly, +and, as he never took much exercise, his sprinting +abilities were not pronounced. So it took him +about a minute and a half to cross the campus to +where the little group of lads awaited him—anxious +waiting it was too, on the part of Joe and +Peaches. And in that minute and a half, before +the excitement begins, I want to take the opportunity +to tell you something about Joe Matson, +and his chum Tom Davis, and how they happened +to be at Excelsior Hall.</p> + +<p>Those of you who have read the first volume +of this series entitled, “Baseball Joe of the Silver +Stars,” need no introduction to our hero. Sufficient +to say that he was a lad who thought more +of baseball than of any other sport.</p> + +<p>Joe was the son of Mr. and Mrs. John Matson, +and he had a sister named Clara. Joe’s father +was an inventor of farming machinery and other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +apparatus, and had been employed by the Royal +Harvester Works of Riverside, which was located +on the Appleby River, in one of our New England +States. Joe lived in Riverside, his family +having moved there from Bentville.</p> + +<p>In the previous story I told how Joe made the +acquaintance of Tom Davis, who lived in the +house back of him. Joe became interested in the +Silver Stars, the Riverside amateur nine, and +through doing a favor for Darrell Blackney, the +manager, was given a position in the field.</p> + +<p>But Joe wanted to become a pitcher, and, in +fact, had pitched for the Bentville Boosters. He +longed to fill the box for the Stars, and was finally +given a chance. But he had incurred the enmity +of Sam Morton, the regular pitcher, and there +were several clashes between them. Finally Joe +displaced Sam and won many games for the Stars.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matson had some trouble with his inventions, +for Isaac Benjamin, manager of the harvester +works, and Rufus Holdney, the latter once +a friend of the inventor, determined to get certain +valuable patents away from Mr. Matson. How +they nearly succeeded, and how Joe foiled the +plans of the plotters once, is told in the first +book.</p> + +<p>Though Joe aided his father considerably, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +young pitcher never lost his interest in baseball, +and when, at the last moment, word came that +Mr. Matson had seemingly lost everything, Joe +hid his own feelings and went off to pitch the +deciding championship game against the Resolutes +of Rocky Ford, the bitter rivals of the Silver +Stars.</p> + +<p>Joe’s heart was heavy as he pitched, for he +knew that if his father lost his money through the +taking away of his patents there would be no +chance of his going to boarding school, and Joe +desired that above everything.</p> + +<p>But he pluckily pitched the game, which was a +close and hot one. He won, making the Stars the +champions of the county league; and then Joe +hurried home.</p> + +<p>To his delight there was a message from his +father, stating that at the last minute unexpected +evidence had won the patent case for him, and he +was now on the road to prosperity.</p> + +<p>So it was possible for Joe to go to boarding +school after all, and, to his delight, Tom Davis +prevailed upon his parents to send him. So Joe +and Tom went off together to attend Excelsior +Hall, just outside of Cedarhurst, and about a hundred +miles from Riverside.</p> + +<p>Joe and Tom, who had each finished short<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +courses in the Riverside High School, started for +Excelsior Hall at the opening of the Fall term, and +had spent the Winter, with the exception of the +Christmas holidays, at the institution. They liked +it very much, and made a number of friends as +well as some enemies. Their chief foe, as well +as that of nearly every other lad in Excelsior +Hall, was Hiram Shell.</p> + +<p>The months passed, and with the waning of +Winter, Joe began to feel the call of the baseball +diamond. He and Tom got out some old gloves +and balls and bats, and in the seclusion of their +room they played over again, in imagination, some +of the stirring games of the Silver Stars. As yet, +however, there had been no baseball activity at +Excelsior, and Joe was wondering what sort of +team there would be, for that there must be one +was a foregone conclusion. Joe knew that before +he picked out Excelsior Hall as his particular +boarding school.</p> + +<p>I might add that Dr. Wright Fillmore was the +principal of Excelsior Hall. He was dubbed +“Cæsar” because of his fondness for the character +of that warrior, and because he was always +holding him up as a pattern of some virtues to +his pupils. Dr. Enos Rudden the mathematical +teacher was one of the best-liked of all the instructors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +He was fond of athletics, and acted as +sort of head coach and trainer for the football +and baseball teams.</p> + +<p>As much as Dr. Rudden was liked so was Professor +Rodd disliked. Professor Rodd, who was +privately termed “Sixteen and a Half” or “Sixteen” +for short (because of the number of feet in +a rod) was very exacting, fussy and a terror to the +lads who failed to know their Latin lessons.</p> + +<p>And as we are at present immediately concerned +with Professor Rodd, now I will go back +to where we left him approaching the group of +students, with wrath plainly written on his countenance.</p> + +<p>“Who—who threw that ball—that snowball?” +the irate instructor cried. “I demand to know. +Look at my hat! Look at it, I say!” and that +there might be no difficulty in the boys seeing it +Mr. Rodd endeavored to take off his head-piece.</p> + +<p>But he found this no easy matter, for the snowballs, +hitting it with considerable force, had driven +it down over his brow. He struggled to get it +off and this only made him the more angry.</p> + +<p>“Who—who threw those balls at me?” again +demanded Professor Rodd, and this time he managed +to work off his hat. He held it out accusingly.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p>“We—I—er—that is—we all were having a +throwing contest,” explained Teeter Nelson, diffidently, +“and—er——”</p> + +<p>“You certainly <i>all</i> didn’t throw at me,” interrupted +the professor. “Only two balls struck me, +and I demand to know who threw them. Or shall +I report you all to Dr. Fillmore and have him +keep you in bounds for a week; eh?”</p> + +<p>“Nobody meant to hit you, Professor,” put in +Tom. “You see——”</p> + +<p>“Will you or will you not answer my question?” +snapped the instructor, in the same tone of +voice he used in the classroom, when some luckless +lad was stuttering and stammering over the +difference between the <i>gerund</i> and the <i>gerundive</i>. +“Who threw the balls?”</p> + +<p>“I—I’m afraid I did,” faltered Joe. “I threw +one, and—and——”</p> + +<p>“I threw the other,” popped out Peaches. +“But it was an accident, Professor.”</p> + +<p>“An accident! Humph!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” eagerly went on Peaches, who, having +been longer at the school than Joe, knew better +how to handle the irate instructor. “You see it +was this way: We were having a contest, and +wanted to see who could throw over the trees. +Instead of throwing <i>primus</i>, <i>secondus</i>, and <i>tertius</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +as we might have done, Joe and I threw together—um—er—ah +<i>conjunctim</i> so to speak,” and +Peaches managed to keep a straight face even +while struggling to find the right Latin word. +“Yes, we threw <i>conjunctim</i>—together—and we +both wanted to see who could do the best—er—<i>supero</i>—you +know, and—er we—well, it was an +accident—<i>casus eventus</i>. We are awfully sorry, +and——”</p> + +<p>Professor Rodd gave an audible sniff, but there +was a marked softening of the hard lines about +his face. He was an enthusiastic Latin scholar, +and the trial of his life was to know that most of +his pupils hated the study—indeed as many boys +do. So when the teacher found one who took the +trouble in ordinary conversation to use a few +Latin words, or phrases, the professor was correspondingly +pleased. Peaches knew this.</p> + +<p>“It was a <i>casus eventus</i>—an accident,” the fair-cheeked +lad repeated, very proud of his ability in +the dead language.</p> + +<p>“We are very sorry,” put in Joe, “and I’ll pay +for having your hat ironed.”</p> + +<p>“We threw in <i>conjunctim</i>,” murmured Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Ha! A very good attempt at the Latin—at +least some of the words are,” admitted Professor +Rodd. “They do credit to your studying, Lantfeld,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +but how in the world did you ever get <i>casus +eventus</i> into accident?”</p> + +<p>“Why—er—it’s so in the dictionary, Professor,” +pleaded Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Yes, but look up the substantive, and remember +your endings. Here I’ll show you,” and, pulling +from his pocket a Latin dictionary, which he +was never without, Professor Rodd, sticking his +battered hat back on his head, began to quote and +translate and do all manner of things with the +dead language, to show Peaches where he had +made his errors. And Peaches, sacrificing himself +on the altar of friendship, stood there like a +man, nodding his head and agreeing with everything +the instructor said, whether he understood +it or not.</p> + +<p>“Your <i>conjunctim</i> was not so bad,” complimented +the professor, “but I could never pass +<i>casus eventus</i>. However, I am glad to see that +you take an interest in your studies. I wish more +of the boys did. Now take the irregular conjugation +for instance. We will begin with the +indicative mood and——”</p> + +<p>The professor’s voice was droning off into his +classroom tones. Peaches held his ground valiantly.</p> + +<p>“Come on, fellows, cut for it!” whispered Teeter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +hoarsely. “Leg it, Joe. Peaches will take +care of him.”</p> + +<p>“But the hat—I damaged it—I want to pay +for it,” objected our hero, who was square in +everything.</p> + +<p>“Don’t worry about that. When Old Sixteen +gets to spouting Latin or Greek he doesn’t know +whether he’s on his head or his feet, and as for a +hat—say, forget it and come on. He’ll never +mention it again. Peaches knows how to handle +him. Peaches is the best Latin lad in the whole +school, and once Sixteen finds some one who will +listen to his new theory about conjugating irregular +verbs, he’ll talk until midnight. Come on!”</p> + +<p>“Poor Peaches!” murmured Tom Davis.</p> + +<p>“Never mind, Sister,” spoke George Bland, as +he linked his arm in that of Joe. “Peaches seen +his duty and he done it nobly, as the novels say. +When Sixteen gets through with him we’ll blow +him to a feed to make it up to him. Come on +while the going’s good. He’ll never see us.”</p> + +<p>Thus the day—rather an eventful one as it was +destined to become—came to an end. The boys +filed into the big dining hall, and talk, which had +begun to verge around to baseball, could scarcely +be heard for the clatter of knives and forks and +dishes.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p>Some time later there came a cautious knock +on the door of the room that Tom Davis and Joe +Matson shared. The two lads were deep in their +books.</p> + +<p>“Who’s there?” asked Joe sharply.</p> + +<p>“It’s me—Peaches,” was the quick if ungrammatical +answer. “The coast is clear—open your +oak,” and he rattled the knob of the door.</p> + +<p>Tom unlocked and swung wide the portal, and +the hero of the Latin engagement entered.</p> + +<p>“Quick—anything to drink?” he demanded. +“I’m a rag! Say, I never swallowed so much dry +Latin in my life. My throat is parched. Don’t +tell me that all that ginger ale you smuggled in +the other day is gone—don’t you dare do it!”</p> + +<p>“Tom, see if there’s a bottle left for the gentleman +of thirst,” directed Joe with a smile.</p> + +<p>Tom went to the window and pulled up a cord +that was fastened to the sill. On the end of the +string was a basket, and in it three bottles of ginger +ale.</p> + +<p>“Our patent refrigerator,” explained Joe, with +a wave of his hand. “Do the uncorking act, +Tom, and we’ll get busy. You can go to sleep,”—this +last to a book he had been studying, as he +tossed it on a couch.</p> + +<p>“Oh, but that’s good!” murmured Peaches as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +he drained his glass. “Now I can talk. I came +in, Joe and Tom, to see if you didn’t think it +would be a good thing to have a fight.”</p> + +<p>“A fight! For cats’ sake, who with?” demanded +Tom.</p> + +<p>“Are you spoiling for one?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I mean a snowball fight. This is probably +the last of the season, and I was thinking we +could get a lot of fellows together, make a fort, +and have a regular battle like we read about in +Cæsar to-day. It would be no end of sport.”</p> + +<p>“I think so myself,” agreed Joe.</p> + +<p>“Bully!” exclaimed Tom sententiously, burying +his nose in his ginger ale glass. “Go on, tell us +some more.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I was thinking,” resumed Peaches, +“that we——”</p> + +<p>He was interrupted by another tap on the door. +In an instant Peaches had dived under the table. +With one sweep of his arm Joe noiselessly collected +the bottles, while Joe spread a paper over +the glasses. The knock was repeated, and the +two lads looked apprehensively at the door.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></h2> + +<h3>AN ANGRY BULLY</h3> + + +<p>“Well, why don’t one of you fellows open +the door?” demanded Peaches in a hoarse whisper +from his point of vantage under the table. “If +it’s one of the ‘profs.’ or a monitor, he’ll get wise +if you wait all this while.”</p> + +<p>It might be explained that there was a rule at +Excelsior Hall against students visiting in their +classmates’ rooms at certain hours of the day, unless +permission had been secured from the professor +or monitor in charge of the dormitory. +Needless to say Peaches had not secured any such +permission—the lads seldom did.</p> + +<p>“Aren’t you going to open it?” again demanded +Peaches, from where he had taken refuge, +so as to be out of sight, should the caller prove to +be some one in authority.</p> + +<p>“Yes—certainly—of course,” replied Joe. +“Tom, you open the door.”</p> + +<p>Once more came the knock.</p> + +<p>“Open it yourself,” insisted Tom. “It’s as +much your room as it is mine. Go ahead.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + +<p>But there was no need for any one to first encounter +the stern gaze of some professor, if such +the unannounced caller should prove to be. The +knock was repeated and then a voice demanded:</p> + +<p>“Say, you fellows needn’t pretend not to be in +there. I can hear you whispering. What’s up?” +and with that the portal swung open and Teeter +Nelson entered. He advanced to the middle of +the room and stood moving up and down on his +tiptoes.</p> + +<p>“I like your nerve!” he went on. “Having a +spread and not tipping a fellow off. Is it all +gone?” and with a sweep of his arm he sent the +paper cover flying from over the half-emptied ginger +ale glasses. “Where’s Peaches?” he demanded. +“I know he’s out, for I was at his den, +and there’s not a soul in. He’s got a ‘dummy’ +in the bed, but it’s rank. Wouldn’t fool anybody.”</p> + +<p>“Then you must have spoiled it!” exclaimed +Peaches, sticking his head out from beneath the +table, the cloth draping itself around his neck like +a lady’s scarf. “I made a dandy figure. It would +fool even Sixteen himself; and then I sneaked out. +I made it look as natural as could be. I’ll bet +you did something to it.”</p> + +<p>“Only punched it a couple of times to see if it +was you,” retorted Teeter. “But say, what’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +going on? Why didn’t you open when I +knocked?”</p> + +<p>“Thought it was a prof.,” replied Joe. “Why +didn’t you give the code knock. Tat—rat-a-tat-tat—tat-tat—and +the hiss.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right, I did forget it. But I got all +excited when I found that Peaches had sneaked +off without telling me. Say, what’s on, anyhow? +Where’s the feed? Give me something good.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing going but ginger ale,” answered Joe, +as Peaches crawled the rest of the way out from +under the table. “And I don’t know as there’s +any left.”</p> + +<p>“Gee, you fellows have nerve!” complained +the newcomer.</p> + +<p>“There’s one bottle,” said Tom, who had +charge of the improvised refrigerator, and forthwith +he hauled up the basket, at the sight of which +Teeter laughed joyously, and proceeded to get +outside of his share of the refreshments.</p> + +<p>“What’s doing?” he demanded, after his thirst +was quenched, and when they were all seated at +the table.</p> + +<p>“We’re going to have a snow battle,” explained +Peaches. “We were just talking about it when +you gave us heart disease by pounding on the +oak.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Heart disease; my eye!” exclaimed Teeter. +“You should have a clear conscience such as I +have, and nothing would worry you. That’s good +ale all right, Joe. Got any more?” and he finished +his glass.</p> + +<p>“Nary a drop. But go on, Peaches. Tell us +more about the snow fight.”</p> + +<p>Whereupon the lad did, waxing enthusiastic, +and causing his chums to get into the same state +of mind.</p> + +<p>“It will be no end of fun!” declared Teeter. +“We’ll choose sides and see which one can capture +the fort.”</p> + +<p>“When can we do it?” asked Tom.</p> + +<p>“The sooner the quicker,” was Joe’s opinion. +“The snow won’t last long.”</p> + +<p>“Then we ought to start on the fort to-morrow +and have the battle the next day,” was the opinion +of Peaches.</p> + +<p>Permission to have the snow battle was obtained +from Dr. Fillmore the next day, and the +work of building the snow fort started soon after +lessons were over. Fortunately the white flakes +packed well, and with a foundation of a number +of big snowballs the fort was shortly in process of +construction.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>A better day for a snow battle could not have +been desired. It was just warm enough so that +the snow stuck, and yet cool enough so that the exertion +would not be unpleasant. The fort was at +the far end of the big school campus, and all +about it the ground had been practically cleared of +snow to build it. This made it necessary for the +attacking party to carry their ammunition from +afar. As for the defenders of the fort, they +had plenty of snow inside, and, as a last resort +they could use part of the walls of the structure itself +to repel the enemy.</p> + +<p>The lads had made wooden shields for themselves, +some using the heads of barrels, with leather +loops for hand and arm. Others were content +with something simpler, a mere board, or a barrel +stave.</p> + +<p>Sides had been chosen, and, somewhat to his +own surprise, Joe Matson was made captain of the +attacking force.</p> + +<p>“We want you because you can throw straight +and hard,” explained Teeter, who was a sort of +lieutenant of the attacking army.</p> + +<p>“Soak those fellows good!” pleaded Peaches.</p> + +<p>“We’ve got to look out for icy balls,” cautioned +Tom.</p> + +<p>“How so?” asked Joe, as he looked toward the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +fort where Frank Brown, as captain, was marshalling +his lads.</p> + +<p>“I heard that Hiram Shell and Luke Fodick +soaked a lot of snowballs in water last night, and +let ’em freeze,” went on Tom. “They’re just +mean enough to use them.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” agreed Peaches, “and we made +it up not to throw that kind. Well, if we catch +Hiram or Luke using ’em we’ll make a protest, +that’s all.”</p> + +<p>“Say, are you fellows all ready?” asked Frank +Brown at length, as he looked to see if he and his +mates had a good supply of ammunition.</p> + +<p>“Sure,” answered Joe. “Yell when you want +us to come at you.”</p> + +<p>“Any time now,” replied Frank. “Get on the +job, fellows!” he called to his force.</p> + +<p>The snow battle began. Joe and his lads had +boxes and baskets of snowballs piled where they +could easily get them. They took them with them, +up to the very walls of the fort, certain boys being +designated as ammunition carriers.</p> + +<p>The fight was fast and furious. The air was +thick with flying balls; and the yells, shouts, cries, +and laughter of the lads could be heard afar.</p> + +<p>Up to the fort swarmed Joe and his mates, only +to be driven back by a withering fire. Then they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +came once more to the attack, pouring in a destructive +rain of white balls on the defenders of +the snow fort. But this resulted partly in disaster +for the attacking foe, as several of their number +were captured.</p> + +<p>“At ’em again!” ordered Joe, after a slight repulse. +“We can capture that place!”</p> + +<p>Once more they swarmed to the attack, and with +very good effect, delivering such a rattling volley +of balls, that the defenders were thrown into confusion, +and could not send back an answering fire +quickly enough.</p> + +<p>“Swarm the walls! Swarm the walls!” yelled +Joe.</p> + +<p>He and his lads scrambled up, their pockets +filled with balls. Down upon the hapless foe they +threw them, and in another moment the fort would +have been theirs.</p> + +<p>“Repel boarders! Repel boarders!” sang out +Hiram. “Come on, fellows, give ’em an extra +dose!”</p> + +<p>Joe saw the bully, and Luke, his crony, rush to a +corner of the fort and take something from a +wooden box. The next instant several lads uttered +cries of real pain, as they felt the missiles +of almost solid ice hit them. Joe understood at +once.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<p>“The mean, sneaking coward!” he cried. In +his hand he held a large snowball. It was hard +packed, but did not equal the ice balls in any +particular. Yet it was effective.</p> + +<p>Joe saw the chance he wanted. Hiram had +drawn back his hand to throw one of the missiles +he and Luke had secretly made, when, with a suddenness +that was startling, Joe threw his large +snowball full in the bully’s face.</p> + +<p>Hiram caught his breath. The ball he had intended +throwing fell from his hand. He staggered +back, his face a mass of snow. Then he +recovered himself, cleared his eyes of the flakes +and, with a yell of rage sprang forward.</p> + +<p>“I saw you throw that, Joe Matson!” he cried. +“You had no right to pitch it with all your might +at such close range.”</p> + +<p>“I had as much right as you and Luke have to +use iceballs,” retorted our hero.</p> + +<p>“I—I’ll fix you for that!” threatened Hiram, +boiling over with wrath, as he scrambled up the +inner walls of the fort and stood before Joe. “I’ll +knock you into the middle of next week! I’ll teach +you how to behave. I’m going to lick you good,” +and he drew back his fist, and aimed a mighty +blow at our hero.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></h2> + +<h3>JOE LEARNS SOMETHING</h3> + + +<p>Joe Matson had been in fights before. Some +had been forced upon him, and he accepted the +challenges for sufficient reasons, and had given +a good account of himself in the battles. Other +fistic encounters had been of his own seeking and +for excellent reasons he had generally come out +ahead.</p> + +<p>The prospective fight with the bully was very +sudden. Joe had seen what he considered a mean +trick on Hiram’s part and had thrown on the +impulse of the moment. He rather regretted his +hasty action, but it was too late for regrets now, +and he was willing to accept the outcome.</p> + +<p>“I’m going to make you wish you’d never +come to Excelsior Hall!” cried Hiram, and with +that he expected the blow which he had aimed at +Joe to land on the countenance of our hero.</p> + +<p>But, like the celebrated flea of history, who, +as the Dutchman said, “ven you put your finger +on him, dot flea he aind’t dere!” so it was with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +Joe. He cleverly ducked, and then waited for +what would happen next.</p> + +<p>Something did happen with a vengeance. +Hiram had rushed up the slippery, sloping, inner +wall of the fort to get at Joe, and pummel him +for sending the snowball smashing into his face, +but when Joe turned aside, and Hiram’s fist went +through the air like a batter fanning over a swift +ball, the bully was unable to recover himself.</p> + +<p>He overbalanced, clawed vainly at the atmosphere, +made a grab for Joe, who took good care +to keep well out of reach, and then <a href="#image02">Hiram Shell +went slipping and sliding down the outside wall +of the snow fort</a>, turning over several times ere +he landed at the bottom, amid a pile of the white +flakes.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 375px;"> +<a name="image02" id="image02"><img src="images/image02.jpg" width="375" height="600" alt="HIRAM SHELL WENT SLIPPING AND SLIDING DOWN THE OUTSIDE WALL OF THE SNOW FORT." title="HIRAM SHELL WENT SLIPPING AND SLIDING DOWN THE OUTSIDE WALL OF THE SNOW FORT." /></a> +<br /><span class="caption"><a href="#Page_32">HIRAM SHELL WENT SLIPPING AND SLIDING DOWN THE +OUTSIDE WALL OF THE SNOW FORT.</a></span> +</div> + +<p>In his descent he struck several lads who were +swarming up to the attack, and these Hiram +bowled over like tenpins, so that when he came +to rest he was in the centre of a pile of heaving +bodies, and of threshing and swaying arms and +legs, like a football player downed after a long +run.</p> + +<p>“Get off me, you fellows!” yelled Hiram, when +he could get his breath. “I’ll punch some of you +good and hard for this!”</p> + +<p>“And you’ll get punched yourself if you don’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +take your feet out of my face!” retorted Peaches, +who was one of the few pupils not afraid of the +bully.</p> + +<p>“Where’s that Joe Matson? I’ve got a score +to settle with him,” went on Hiram, as he +struggled to his feet, and disentangled himself +from the mass of snow-warriors.</p> + +<p>“You’ll have one to settle with me if you +knock me down again!” cried Teeter Nelson, as +he tried to shake some snow out from inside his +collar. It was melting and running down his +back in little cold streams. “What do you mean +by playing that way?” demanded Teeter, who +had not seen the impending fight between Joe and +Hiram. “Why don’t you stay inside your own +fort, and not make a human battering ram of +yourself?”</p> + +<p>“You mind your own business!” snapped +Hiram with an ugly look. “I slipped and fell, or +else Joe Matson pushed me. Wait until I get +hold of him.”</p> + +<p>With a look of anger on his face, Hiram +turned and went swarming up the outer wall of +the fort. At the top stood Joe, waiting, and the +lad’s face showed no signs of fear, though he was +a trifle pale. Though Hiram was larger, and +evidently stronger than Joe, our hero was not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +afraid. He was debating in his mind whether it +would not be better to rush to the ground below, +where he would have a better chance if it came +to an out-and-out-fight. Yet Joe had a certain +advantage on top of the snow wall, for he could +easily push Hiram down. Yet this was not his +idea of a contest of that kind.</p> + +<p>“I’ll fix you, Matson!” muttered the bully. +“I’ll teach you to push me down! You might +have broken my arm or leg,” he added in an injured +tone.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t push you!” retorted our hero. “You +tried to hit me and missed. Then you fell.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right!” chimed in Peaches, amid a +silence, for the general snowball fight had ceased +in anticipation of another kind of an encounter.</p> + +<p>Hiram balanced himself half way up the white +wall.</p> + +<p>“What did you smash me in the face with a +snowball for?” he demanded. “We made it up +that no one was to aim at another fellow’s face +at close range, and you know it.”</p> + +<p>“Of course I know it,” answered Joe. “But +that rule applied to hard balls, and I didn’t use +one. I threw a soft ball at you, and you know +why I did it, too. I’ll let Luke Fodick have one, +too, if he does it again.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Does what again?” sneered the bully’s +crony.</p> + +<p>“Use icy balls. I saw you and Hiram take +some frozen ones from that box,” and Joe +pointed to the secret supply of ammunition. +“Some of our fellows were hit and that’s why I +threw in your face, Hiram. Now, if you want to +fight I’m ready for you,” and Joe stood well +balanced on top of the wall, awaiting the approach +of his enemy.</p> + +<p>Somehow the fighting spirit was oozing out of +Hiram. He felt sure that he could whip Joe +in a battle on level ground, but when his opponent +stood above him, and when it was evident +that Joe could deliver a blow before Hiram could, +with the probability that it would send the attacker +sliding down the wall again, the bully +began to see that discretion was the better part +of valor.</p> + +<p>“Do you want to fight?” demanded Hiram, in +that tone which sometimes means that the questioner +would be glad to get a negative answer.</p> + +<p>“I’m not aching for it,” replied Joe slowly. +“But I’m not going to run away. If you like +I’ll come down, but you can come up if you want +to,” and he smiled at Hiram. “You only got +what you deserved, you know.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<p>“That’s right,” chimed in Teeter. “You +hadn’t any right to use frozen balls, Hiram.”</p> + +<p>“Sure not!” came in a menacing chorus from +Joe’s crowd of lads.</p> + +<p>“Well, they weren’t frozen very hard,” mumbled +Hiram. “I only threw a few, anyhow, and +you’ve got more fellows than we have.”</p> + +<p>“Because we captured some of yours—yes,” +admitted Joe.</p> + +<p>“Well, all right then,” answered the bully with +no good grace. “But if you throw at my face +again, at such close range, Joe Matson, I’ll give +you the best licking you ever had.”</p> + +<p>“Two can play at that game,” was Joe’s retort. +“I’m ready any time you are.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you go at him now, and clean him +up?” asked Luke Fodick, making his way to +where Hiram stood. “If you don’t he’ll be saying +he backed you to a standstill. Go at him, +Hiram.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve a good notion to,” muttered the bully.</p> + +<p>He measured with his eye the distance between +himself and Joe, and wondered if he could cover +it in a rush, carry his opponent off his feet, and +batter and pummel him as they rolled down the +fort wall together.</p> + +<p>“Go on!” urged Luke.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I—I guess I will!” spoke Hiram desperately.</p> + +<p>Then from the outer fringe of the attacking +crowd there arose a cautious warning.</p> + +<p>“Cheese it! Here comes old Sixteen!”</p> + +<p>Professor Rodd was approaching and the lads +well knew that he was bitterly opposed to fights, +and would at once report any who engaged in +them.</p> + +<p>“Come on! Let’s finish the snow fight!” cried +Teeter. “Get back in your fort, Hiram, and the +rest of you, and we’ll soon capture it.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said the bully in a low voice. Then +looking at Joe he said: “This isn’t the end of it; +not by a long shot, Matson. I’ll get square with +you yet.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you choose,” answered Joe, as he +rallied his lads to the attack again.</p> + +<p>Then the snow ball fight went on, with Professor +Rodd an interested onlooker. Joe’s boys +finally won, capturing the fort; but the real zest +had been taken out of the battle by the unpleasant +incident, and the boys no longer fought with jolly +good-will.</p> + +<p>“Ah, that is what I like to see,” remarked the +Latin professor, as the lads, having finished the +game, strolled away from the fort which had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +been sadly battered and disrupted by the attack +on it. “Nothing like good, healthy out-door exercise +to fit the mind for the classics. I’m sure +you will all do better in Latin and Greek for this +little diversion.”</p> + +<p>“He’s got another think coming as far as I’m +concerned,” whispered Teeter to Joe. “I haven’t +got a line of my Cæsar.”</p> + +<p>“This is certainly what I like to see,” went on +the instructor. “No hard feelings, yet I venture +to say you all fought well, and hard. It is most +delightful.”</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t have been quite so delightful if +you’d have come along a few minutes later and +seen a real fight,” murmured Peaches. “Would +you have stood up to Hiram, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“I sure would. I was ready for him, though +I don’t want to be unfriendly to any of the fellows +here. But I couldn’t stand for what he did. Oh, +I’d have fought him all right, even at the risk +of a whipping, or of beating him, and having him +down on me all the while I’m here.”</p> + +<p>“I guess he’s down on you all right as it is,” +ventured George Bland. “And it’s too bad, too.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know as I care particularly,” +spoke Joe.</p> + +<p>“I thought I heard you say you wanted to play<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +ball when the Spring season opened,” said George.</p> + +<p>“So I do, but what has Hiram Shell got to do +with it?”</p> + +<p>“Lots, as you’ll very soon learn,” put in Teeter. +“Hiram is the head of the ball club—the manager—I +guess you forgot that, and he runs things. If +he doesn’t want a fellow to play—why, that fellow +doesn’t play—that’s all. That’s what George +means.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” assented George. “And Hiram is sure +down on you after what you did to him to-day, +Joe.”</p> + +<p>The young pitcher stood still. Many thoughts +came to him. He felt a strange sinking sensation, +as if he had suddenly lost hope. He dwelt +for a moment on his great ambition, to be the +star pitcher on the school nine, as he had been +on the nine at home.</p> + +<p>“Well, I guess it’s too late to worry about it +now,” remarked Joe after a bit. “I’m sorry—no; +I’m not either!” he cried, with sudden energy. +“I’d do the same thing over again if I had to, +and if Hiram Shell wants to keep me off the nine +he can do it!”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk!” cried Teeter, clapping +Joe on the back.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></h2> + +<h3>THE TABLES TURNED</h3> + + +<p>“Well, Joe, what do you think about it?” +Tom Davis glanced at his chum across the room +as he asked this question. It was several hours +after the snow battle, and the two lads were +studying, or making a pretense at it.</p> + +<p>“Think about what, Tom?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you know what I mean—what happened +to-day, and how it’s going to affect your chances +for the nine. They look rather slim, don’t they?”</p> + +<p>“Well, Tom, I don’t mind admitting that they +do. I didn’t know Hiram was such a high-mucky-muck +in baseball here. But there’s no use +crying over spilled milk. He and I would have +had a clash sooner or later, anyhow, and it might +as well be first as last.”</p> + +<p>“It’s too blamed bad though,” went on Tom.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” agreed Joe, “especially as I picked out +Excelsior Hall because their nine had so many +victories to its credit, and because it had a good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +reputation. That’s what partly induced you to +come here, too, I guess.”</p> + +<p>“Well, yes, in a way. Of course I like baseball, +but I’m not so crazy after it as you are. +Maybe that’s why I’m not such a good player. +If I can hold down first, or play out in the field, +it suits me; but you——”</p> + +<p>“I want to be pitcher or nothing,” interrupted +Joe with a smile, “but I’m afraid I’m a long way +from the box now.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, from what I can hear, Hiram has the +inside track in the baseball game. He’s manager +chiefly because he puts up a lot of money for the +team, and because his friends, what few he has, +are officers in the organization.”</p> + +<p>“Who’s captain?” asked Joe. “Maybe I +could induce him to let me play even if Hiram +is down on me.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing doing there,” replied Tom quickly. +“Luke Fodick is captain, or, rather he was last +year, I hear, and he’s slated for the same position +this season. Luke and Hiram are as thick as such +fellows always are. When Hiram is hit Luke +does the boo-hoo act for him. No, Luke will be +down on you as much as his crony is. But maybe +we can get up a second nine, and play some +games on our own hook!”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>“None of that!” Joe exclaimed quickly. “I’m +not an insurgent. I play with the regulars or not +at all. They’d be saying all sorts of things +against me if you and I tried to start an opposition +team.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so. Still it mightn’t be a bad idea, +under the circumstances, to have another team, +if it wasn’t for what the school would say.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Why, Excelsior got dumped in the interscholastic +league last season. They play for the +blue banner you know—a sort of prize trophy—and +it was won by Morningside Academy, which +now holds it. That’s why I say it might be a +good thing to have some more ginger in the team +here. I know you could put it in, after the way +you pitched on the Silver Stars when they licked +the Resolutes.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it can’t be done I’m afraid,” Joe rejoined. +“There can only be one first team in a +school, and I don’t want to disrupt things or play +second fiddle. If I can’t get on the nine I’ll have +to stay off, that’s all. But it’s going to be mighty +tough to sit still and watch the other fellows play, +and all the while just itching to get hold of the +ball—mighty tough,” and Joe gazed abstractedly +about the room.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I wish I could help you, old man, but I can’t,” +said Tom. “I suppose this clash with Hiram had +to come but I do wish it had held off until after +the season opened. Once you were on the nine +you could show the fellows what stuff you had in +your pitching arm, and then Hiram and Luke +could do their worst, but they couldn’t get you +off the team.”</p> + +<p>“That’s nice of you to say, but I don’t know +about it,” remarked Joe. “Well, I’m about done +studying. I wish——”</p> + +<p>But he did not finish the sentence, for there +came a knock on the door—a pre-arranged signal +in a certain code of raps, showing that one of their +classmates stood without.</p> + +<p>“Wait a minute,” called Tom, as he went to +open the door.</p> + +<p>His quick view through the crack showed the +smiling faces of Teeter and Peaches, and there +was an audible sigh of relief from Joe’s roommate. +For Tom had fallen behind in his studies +of late, and had been warned that any infractions +of the rules might mean his suspension for +a week or two.</p> + +<p>“Gee, you took long enough to open the door,” +complained Teeter, “especially considering what +we have with us.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Don’t you mean ‘whom’ you have with +you?” asked Joe, nodding toward Peaches.</p> + +<p>“No, I mean ‘what,’” insisted Teeter with a +grin as he unbuttoned his coat and brought into +view several pies, and a couple of packages done +up in paper.</p> + +<p>“Oh, that’s the game, is it?” asked Joe with +a laugh.</p> + +<p>“And there’s more to it,” added Peaches, as he +produced two bottles from the legs of his trousers. +“This is the best strawberry pop that can be +bought. We’ll have a feast as is a feast; eh, +fellows?”</p> + +<p>“Lock the door!” exclaimed Tom, and he did +it himself, being nearest to it. “There may be +confiscating spirits abroad in the land to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Old Sixteen is abroad, anyhow,” spoke Teeter +with a laugh, “but I guess we’ll be safe. I have +a scheme, if worst comes to worst.”</p> + +<p>“What is it?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“You’ll see when the time comes—if it does. +‘Now, on with the dance—let joy be unconfined!’ +Open the pop, Peaches, and don’t sample it until +we’re all ready. Got any glasses, you fellows? +This is a return game for the treat you gave us +the other night.”</p> + +<p>“Then we’ll find the glasses all right,” spoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +Joe with a laugh. “But what’s your game, not +to let old Sixteen catch us at this forbidden midnight +feast? Have you dummies in your beds?”</p> + +<p>“Not a dum. But watch my smoke.”</p> + +<p>From the parcels he carried, Teeter produced +what looked to be books—books, as attested by +the words on their covers—books dealing with +Latin, and the science of physics.</p> + +<p>“There are our plates,” he said as he laid the +books down on the table. Then Joe and Tom saw +that the books were merely covers pasted over a +sort of box into which a whole pie could easily be +put. “Catch the idea,” went on Teeter. “We +are eating in here, which is against the rules, worse +luck. But, perchance, some monitor or professor +knocks unexpectedly. Do we have to hustle and +scramble to conceal our refreshments? Answer—we +do not. What do we do?”</p> + +<p>“Answer,” broke in Peaches. “We merely slip +our pie or sandwiches or whatever it happens to +be, inside our ‘books,’ and go right on studying. +Catch on?”</p> + +<p>“I should say we did!” exclaimed Joe. “That’s +great!”</p> + +<p>“But what about the bottles of strawberry +pop?” asked Tom. “We can’t hide them in the +fake books.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>“No, I’ve another scheme for that,” went on +Teeter. “Show ’em, Peaches.”</p> + +<p>Thereupon Peaches proceeded to extract the +corks from the bottles of liquid refreshment. +From the packages Teeter had brought he took +some other corks. They had glass tubes through +them, two tubes for each cork. And on one tube +in each cork was a small rubber hose.</p> + +<p>“There!” exclaimed Teeter as Peaches put +the odd corks in the bottles. “We can pour out +the pop with neatness and dispatch into our glasses +and at the same time, should any one unexpectedly +enter, why—we are only conducting an experiment +in generating oxygen or hydrogen gas. The +bottles are the retorts, and we can pretend our +glasses are to receive the gas. How’s that?”</p> + +<p>“All to the horse radish!” cried Joe in delight.</p> + +<p>“Then proceed,” ordered Teeter with a laugh; +and when all was in readiness each lad sat with a +fake book near him, into which he could slip his +piece of pie at a moment’s warning, while on the +table stood the bottles of pop with the tubes and +hose extending from their corks—truly a most +scientific-looking array of flasks and glassware.</p> + +<p>“Now let’s talk,” suggested Teeter, biting generously<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +into a pie. “That was a great fight we +had to-day, all right.”</p> + +<p>“And there might have been one of a different +kind,” added Peaches. “Hear anything more +from Hiram, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t expect to—until the next time, +and then I suppose we’ll have it out.”</p> + +<p>“I guess Joe’s goose is cooked as far as getting +on the nine is concerned,” ventured Tom.</p> + +<p>“Sure thing,” agreed Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Yet we’re going to need a new pitcher,” went +on Teeter. “Probably two of ’em?”</p> + +<p>“How’s that?” asked Tom interestedly.</p> + +<p>“Why Rutherford, our star man of last year, +graduated, and he’s gone to Princeton or Yale. +Madison, the substitute who was pretty good in +a pinch game, graduated, too; but we thought he +was coming back for an extra course in Latin. I +heard to-day that he isn’t, and so that means we’ll +have to have two new box-men. There might +be a show for Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Forget it!” advised Peaches. “Not the way +Hiram and Luke feel. They went off by themselves +right after supper to-night, and I heard +them saying something about Joe here, but I +couldn’t catch what it was. Oh, they’re down on +him all right, for Joe backed Hiram to a standstill<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +to-day, and that hasn’t happened to the bully +in a blue moon.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, I guess I can live if I don’t get on +the nine my first season here,” spoke Joe. “I’ll +keep on trying though.”</p> + +<p>Thus the talk went on, chiefly about baseball, +and gradually the strawberry pop was lowered in +the bottles, and the pie was nearly consumed.</p> + +<p>“Guess you had all your trouble for nothing, +Teeter,” remarked Tom. “We aren’t going to +be interrupted to-night.”</p> + +<p>Hardly had he spoken than there was the faint +rattle of the door knob. It was as if some one +had tried it to see if the portal was unlocked before +knocking. Slight as the noise was, the lads +heard it.</p> + +<p>“Quick! On the job!” whispered Teeter. He +crammed the rest of his pie into the fake book, as +did the others.</p> + +<p>“Study like blazes!” was Teeter’s next order.</p> + +<p>There came a knock at the door.</p> + +<p>“Young gentlemen have you any visitors?” demanded +the ominous voice of Professor Rodd.</p> + +<p>Teeter placed the ends of the rubber tubes one +in each of two glasses before Joe could answer.</p> + +<p>“I heard voices in there—more than two +voices,” went on the Latin instructor grimly, “and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +I demand that you open the door before I send +for Dr. Fillmore and the janitor.”</p> + +<p>Tom slid to the portal and unlocked it. Professor +Rodd stepped into the room and his stern +gaze took in the two visitors. But he also saw +something else that surprised him.</p> + +<p>On the table was apparatus that very much resembled +some used for experiments in the physics +class. And, wonder of wonders, each of the four +lads held a book in his hand—a book that the +merest glance showed to be either a Latin grammar +or a treatise on chemistry.</p> + +<p>“What—why——?” faltered the professor.</p> + +<p>“<i>Aliqui—aliquare—aliqua</i>,” recited Teeter in a +sing-song declension voice. “<i>Aliquorum—aliquarum—aliquorum.</i>” +Then he pretended to look +up suddenly, as if just aware of the presence +of the instructor.</p> + +<p>“Oh, good evening, Professor Rodd,” said +Teeter calmly.</p> + +<p>“What does this mean?” exclaimed the teacher. +“Don’t you know it is against the rules for students +to visit in each others’ rooms after hours +without permission?”</p> + +<p>“I knew it was—that is for anything but study,” +replied Teeter frankly. “I didn’t think you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +minded if we helped each other with our Latin.” +Oh! what an innocent look was on his face!</p> + +<p>“Oh!—er—um—and you are studying Latin?” +asked the professor, while a pleased smile replaced +his frown.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Professor,” put in Peaches. “And I +can’t seem to remember, nor find, what the neuter +plural accusative of ‘some’ is. I have gone as far +as <i>aliquos—aliquas</i>, but——”</p> + +<p>“<i>Aliqua—aliqua!</i>” exclaimed the Professor +quickly. “You ought not to forget that. We +had it in class the other day.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, so we did!” exclaimed Teeter. “I +just remember now; don’t you, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” murmured Joe, wondering whether or +not they had turned the tables on the teacher.</p> + +<p>“I am glad to see you so studious,” went on Mr. +Rodd. “And I see you do not neglect your physics, +either. Ah—er—what is the red liquid in the +bottles,” and he looked at what remained of the +strawberry pop.</p> + +<p>It was the question Tom and Joe had feared +would be asked. But Teeter was equal to the +emergency.</p> + +<p>“Professor,” he asked innocently, “isn’t there +some rule regarding <i>quis</i> used in the indefinite in +connection with <i>aliquis</i>?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Yes, and I am glad you spoke of that,” said +Mr. Rodd quickly, rubbing his hands, much +pleased that he had a chance to impart some +Latin information. “<i>Quis</i> indefinite is found in +the following compounds: <i>aliquis</i>—someone; <i>si +quis</i>, if any; <i>ne quis</i>, lest any; <i>ecquis</i>, <i>num quis</i>, +whether any. I am very glad you brought that +up. I will speak of it in class to-morrow. But +I must go now.”</p> + +<p>The boys began to breathe easier and Teeter, +who had been whispering declensions to himself, +left off.</p> + +<p>“Oh, by the way,” spoke the Professor, as if +he had just thought of it: “I don’t mind you boys +studying together, if you don’t stay up too late. +But it is better to ask permission. However, I will +speak to Dr. Fillmore about it, and it will be all +right from now on. I am pleased that some of +my students are so painstaking. I wish more +were.”</p> + +<p>With a bow he left them and they tried not +to give way to their exultation until he was far +down the corridor.</p> + +<p>“Say, talk about pulling off a stunt! We did +it all right!” exclaimed Joe.</p> + +<p>“I should say yes,” agreed the others.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a></h2> + +<h3>THE BULLY SNEERS</h3> + + +<p>“Well, you ought to get out a patent on this,” +remarked Joe, when they resumed the eating of +the pie and the drinking of the pop, following the +withdrawal of the professor.</p> + +<p>“You sure had,” agreed Tom. “Let Joe give +you some points. His father has taken out several +patents.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I guess we’ll make it free for all—any +fellow is welcome to the idea,” replied Teeter. +“So your dad’s an inventor, eh, Matson?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, harvester machinery—his latest was a +corn reaper and binder, and he nearly lost it,” +and Joe briefly told how Isaac Benjamin and Rufus +Holdney had nearly ruined his father, as related +in detail in “Baseball Joe of the Silver Stars.”</p> + +<p>“Ever hear anything more of those fellows?” +asked Tom, following the recital of the schemes +of the plotters.</p> + +<p>“No, they seem to have disappeared,” answered +Joe. “They cleared out after dad won +his case in the courts. But he’s on the watch for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +them, he told me. His business isn’t all settled +yet, and there is some danger. But I guess Benjamin +or Holdney won’t bother him, though some +other rascals may.”</p> + +<p>“Anything more to eat?” asked Peaches, during +the pause that followed.</p> + +<p>“Say, what are you, a human refrigerator?” +demanded Teeter. “I couldn’t carry any more +pie if I tried.”</p> + +<p>“It’ll be our treat next time,” observed Joe. +“Why didn’t George Bland come with you?”</p> + +<p>“Had to bone on trigonometry, I guess,” replied +Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Does he play on the team?” Joe wanted to +know.</p> + +<p>“Yes, we all do. George is short, I’m on third, +and Teeter holds down first sometimes. But you +never can tell what Hiram is going to do. He and +Luke are always making shifts, and that’s what +lost us the Blue Banner last season. The fellows +would no more than get familiar with their positions +than Hiram would shift ’em. Oh, he runs +things to suit himself.”</p> + +<p>The hour of ten boomed out from the big +school clock and the visitors left.</p> + +<p>“Spring fever!” exclaimed Joe one day, as he +and Tom came from a physics lecture.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Yes, I’ve got it, too,” admitted Tom. “It’s in +the air, and I’m glad of it. What’s that Shakespeare +says about ‘now is the winter of our discontent?’”</p> + +<p>“Oh, cheese it! Don’t begin spouting poetry. +Besides I’m not sure it was Shakespeare, and I +don’t give a hang. All I know is that Spring is +coming, and soon they’ll begin getting the diamond +in shape.”</p> + +<p>“Precious lot of good that will do you—or me, +either. Hiram is as down on me as he is on you.”</p> + +<p>“I know it, and I was going to speak of that, +Tom. There’s no use in your losing a chance to +play on the nine just because I’m on the outs. +Why don’t you cut loose from me? You can get +another room, and maybe if you do——”</p> + +<p>“Hold on!” cried Tom quickly. “Do you +want me to go, old man?” and he looked sharply +at Joe.</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! Of course you know I don’t.”</p> + +<p>“Then drop that kind of talk, unless you want +a fight on your hands. You and I stick together, +Hiram Shell or no Hiram Shell—and Luke Fodick.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I didn’t know,” spoke Joe softly.</p> + +<p>“Here, come on; let’s have a catch,” proposed +Tom. “I’ve got an old ball that we used in one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +of the Star games. Get over there and sting +some in to me. Wait until I get my glove on,” +and he adjusted his mitt.</p> + +<p>“Jove! This is like old times!” exclaimed Joe, +as he lovingly fingered the horsehide—dirty and +stained as it was from many a clouting and drive +into the tall grass and daisies. “I wish we could +go and see a game, even if we couldn’t play.”</p> + +<p>“Same here,” came from Tom, as he crouched +to receive the ball his chum was about to deliver. +Joe wound up and sent in a “hot” one. It landed +squarely in Tom’s glove for the first-baseman (a +position he sometimes had played on the Stars) +was not a half bad catcher.</p> + +<p>“How was that?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Pretty good. Not quite over the plate, but +you can get ’em there. Let ’em come about so,” +and Tom indicated a stone that would serve for +home.</p> + +<p>“Watch this,” requested Joe as he wound up +again and let drive.</p> + +<p>“A beaut!” cried Tom. “Give me some more +that way, and you’ll have the man out.”</p> + +<p>“Say, what are you fellows doing?” demanded +a voice, and the two chums looked up to see Hiram +Shell gazing at them with mingled expressions on +his fleshy face.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, having a little practice,” replied Joe easily. +The feeling between himself and the bully +had nearly worn off, and they were on speaking, +if not on friendly terms.</p> + +<p>“Practice for what?” demanded Hiram.</p> + +<p>“Well, the baseball season opens pretty soon,” +went on Joe, “and Tom and I sort of felt the +fever in our veins to-day. Want to have a catch?”</p> + +<p>“No,” half snarled Hiram. “Say, did you fellows +play ball before you came here?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“Sure,” put in Tom. “Joe was one of the best +pitchers on the Silver Stars.”</p> + +<p>“The Silver Stars? Never heard of ’em!” +sneered Hiram.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it was only an amateur nine,” Joe admitted +modestly. “Tom here was first baseman, and +we had some good country games.”</p> + +<p>“Huh! Maybe you came <i>here</i> to play baseball!” +suggested Hiram with a leer. “Seems to +me I heard that you had some such notion.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I have,” asserted Joe confidently. “I +like the game, and I’d give a good deal to get on +the nine. So would Tom, I guess.”</p> + +<p>“First base is filled,” snapped Hiram.</p> + +<p>“How about pitcher,” asked Tom eagerly, anxious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +to put in a good word for his chum. “I hear +you need a new pitcher.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you did; eh?” exclaimed the bully with an +unpleasant laugh. “Well, you’ve got another +‘hear’ coming. Besides, if there wasn’t another +pitcher in the country, you wouldn’t get a chance, +Matson!”</p> + +<p>“No?” queried Joe easily.</p> + +<p>“No, and a dozen times no! What, you pitch? +Say, you may have been all right on a sand-lots +team, but there’s some class to Excelsior Hall. We +don’t want any dubs on our nine. You think you +might pitch on <i>my</i> team? I guess nixy! We want +some fellow who can deliver the goods.”</p> + +<p>“Joe can!” exclaimed Tom eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Aw, forget it!” sneered Hiram. “Why, you’d +be knocked out of the box first inning with some of +the teams we play. You pitch! Ha! Ha! That’s +pretty rich. I’ll have to tell the fellows about +this!”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t ask you to let me pitch,” said Joe +quietly though an angry spot burned in either +cheek.</p> + +<p>“No, and you’d better not!” snapped Hiram. +“You pitch! Ha! Ha! It makes me laugh,” and +with a sneering look at Joe the bully strode off, +chuckling unpleasantly.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a></h2> + +<h3>A CLASH WITH LUKE</h3> + + +<p>For several minutes Joe stood staring after the +baseball manager. The young pitcher’s arm hung +listlessly at his side. There was a look on his face +that would have been sad, had Joe been that kind +of a lad—showing his feelings needlessly. But +our hero was full of spunk and grit, and, though +Hiram’s unnecessarily cruel words hurt him grievously, +Joe shut his teeth with a firmer grip, +squared his shoulders, drew himself up, and then +he smiled at Tom.</p> + +<p>“Well, of all the mean, unmitigated, low-down, +cantankerous, sneaking, bulldozing and——” +sputtered the first baseman.</p> + +<p>“Hold on!” exclaimed his companion. “You’ll +blow up if you go on that way, Tom. Besides, save +some of those big words for a time when you +may need ’em.”</p> + +<p>“Need ’em? Say if I don’t need ’em now I +never will. I wish I had thought to get rid of a +few when that bully was here.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You’d only gotten into trouble. Better keep +still about it.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t Joe. Just think of it! We came here +to play ball, and the first crack out of the box that +fellow goes and tells us we can’t.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know as I have any particular +right to play on the nine here.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you have, the best right in the world! I’ll +bet they haven’t got a pitcher here who can stand +up to you, and I’m going to tell that sneaking bully +so, too,” and Tom started off after the departing +Hiram.</p> + +<p>“No, don’t!” cried Joe quickly. “It will only +make matters worse.”</p> + +<p>“But you want to pitch; don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Sure, but that would be the best way in the +world to insure that I wouldn’t. Hiram Shell is +just the kind of a fellow who, if he thinks a chap +wants anything, is going to do his best—or worst—to +stop him.”</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do then?”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to lie low and saw wood. The baseball +season hasn’t opened yet. The team isn’t +made up. Nobody knows who is going to play +and——”</p> + +<p>“Well, Hiram as good as told us two fellows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +who weren’t going to play,” interrupted Tom. +“That’s you and I.”</p> + +<p>“Wait a bit,” advised Joe. “I was going to +say that when the season has started and several +games have been played there may be a change. +I may get a chance to play then, just as I did on +the Stars. I’m willing to wait. The Summer is +long, and there’ll be more than one game. Just +say nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if you say so, I suppose I’ll have to,” +answered his chum, “but it’s mighty hard to keep +still when a fellow like Hiram Shell rubs your nose +in the dirt, and then kicks you in the bargain. +He’ll have to ask me to play now. I won’t volunteer!” +and Tom shook his fist in the direction of +the manager. “Yes, he’ll have to get down on +his knees and——”</p> + +<p>“Precious little danger of that,” remarked Joe +with a laugh. He was feeling more like himself +now, though the memory of the bully’s sneering +words rankled. They had cut deep.</p> + +<p>“Guess there’s no use catching any longer,” +resumed Tom after a pause. “I don’t exactly +feel like it.”</p> + +<p>“Me either. I guess we’ve gotten over our +touch of spring fever,” and Joe’s voice was a bit +despondent. Really, he cared more about what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +Hiram had said than he liked to admit, even to +himself. He had had high hopes when he left +the Riverside High School to come to Excelsior +Hall that he would at once become a member of +the nine. His ambition, of course, was to pitch, +but he would have accepted any position—even +out in the field, for the sake of being on the school +team. Now it seemed that he was fated not even +to be one of the substitutes.</p> + +<p>“What are you fellows up to?” asked a voice +suddenly, and the two chums turned to behold +Peaches and Teeter walking toward them.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we were having a catch,” replied Tom, +“until we got called down for it. It seems you +have to have a permit at Excelsior to indulge in +a little private practice,” he added sarcastically.</p> + +<p>“What’s up your back now?” asked Teeter.</p> + +<p>“Yes, who’s been rubbing your fur the wrong +way?” Peaches wanted to know. “What’s riled +Sister?”</p> + +<p>“Who do you reckon would, if not Bully +Shell?” asked Tom. “He’s the limit,” and he +rapidly told how Hiram had sneered at Joe’s +efforts, and had said that he never would be on +the team.</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s too bad, for Hiram has the inside +track,” admitted Teeter. “I’m as sorry about it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +as you are, and so are a lot of the fellows. The +trouble is that the athletic committee is too big. +There are a lot of lads on it who don’t care a rap +for baseball or football, who don’t even play +tennis, yet they have a vote, and it’s their votes +that keep Hiram as manager, and Luke as captain.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t it be changed?” Tom wanted to know. +Joe was maintaining a discrete silence, for he did +not want to urge his own qualifications as a pitcher. +Tom was eager to fight for his chum.</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s been tried,” spoke Peaches, “but +Hiram has his own set with him—a set that isn’t +the sporting element of Excelsior by a good lot, +and their votes keep him in. He spends his money +freely and toadies to them, and they fairly black +his shoes. Luke Fodick, too, helps out. He has +his crowd and they’re all with him. I tell you it’s +rotten, but what are you going to do?”</p> + +<p>“I know what I’m going to do if I stay here!” +declared Tom.</p> + +<p>“What?” demanded Peaches and Teeter +eagerly.</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to tell until I’m ready to spring +it,” said Tom, “and when I do I think you’ll see +some fur fly. How soon before the school team +is picked?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Well, they ought to get at it pretty soon now,” +answered Teeter. “There is a meeting of the +athletic committee some time next week, and a +manager and captain will be elected. It’s always +done that way here, though in some places +they do it right at the close of the season. But +it has always been a cut-and-dried affair as +long as Hiram has been here. He got in—he +and Luke—and they’ve stayed in ever since.”</p> + +<p>“Can we go to that athletic meeting?” asked +Tom.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” said Teeter quickly. “It’s open to +every lad in the school, but lots don’t take the +trouble to go,—they know how it will turn out.”</p> + +<p>“Well, maybe there’ll be a different turn to it +this time,” predicted Tom.</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid you’ve got another guess coming,” +was the retort of Peaches; and then the four +friends strolled toward the school buildings.</p> + +<p>“What do you say to a scrub game?” asked +Teeter.</p> + +<p>“I’m willing!” said Joe eagerly; and so it +was arranged.</p> + +<p>The school diamond was not in very good shape, +but two teams, of seven lads on a side, gathered +for the first impromptu baseball game of the season +the following afternoon. Tom, Joe, Peaches<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +and Teeter tried to get more out, but there were +various excuses, and it might be noted that aside +from Teeter and Peaches not one of the former +regular nine appeared.</p> + +<p>“I guess they’re afraid Hiram will release +them if they play with us,” commented Tom.</p> + +<p>“Maybe so,” admitted Teeter. “George +Bland would come only he had some experimental +work to finish. George isn’t any more afraid of +Hiram than we are.”</p> + +<p>“Well, let’s play ball,” suggested Joe; and the +game started. Joe occupied the box for his side, +an honor that came easily to him since none of +the others had had any experience as a twirler of +the horsehide.</p> + +<p>Our hero felt a little nervous as he took his +place, for he knew he was out of practice. Also +he felt that he was being watched, not only by +his particular friends, but by others. And some +of them might not be friendly eyes—nay, some +might be spying on behalf of Hiram Shell.</p> + +<p>But Joe pulled himself well together, laughed +at his idle fears, and sent in a swift curve. It +broke cleanly and completely fooled the batter.</p> + +<p>“Say, that’s the way to get ’em over!” cried +Teeter admiringly from behind the bat as the +ball landed in his mitt. “Do it some more!”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I’ll try,” laughed Joe, and he repeated the +trick.</p> + +<p>The man was easily struck out, and the next at +the bat fell for a like fate, but the third found +Joe’s curve and swatted the ball for two bags.</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, Joe just allowed that so you fellows +wouldn’t get discouraged,” exclaimed Teeter as +an excuse for his pitcher. “Get ready to slaughter +the next man, Joe.”</p> + +<p>And Joe did. He was delighted to find that his +ability to curve the ball, and send it swiftly in, +had not deserted him during the long winter of +comparative inactivity. He knew that he could +“come back with the goods,” and there was a +feeling of hope welling up within him, that, +after all, there might come a chance for him to +pitch on the Excelsior nine.</p> + +<p>The game went on, not regular, nor played according +to the rules by any means. But it was +lots of fun, and some of the lads discovered their +weak points, while others found themselves doing +better than they expected. Joe’s side won by a +small margin, and just as the winning run came in +our hero was aware of a figure walking toward +the bench on which the side was sitting.</p> + +<p>“Huh! Starting off rather early, ain’t you?” +demanded a voice, and they turned to behold Luke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +Fodick. “Who said you fellows could use the +diamond, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>“We didn’t ask anybody,” retorted Teeter +with a snap.</p> + +<p>“Well, you want to—after this,” was the surly +command. “I’m captain of the nine and what I +say goes. I’m not going to have the diamond all +torn up before the season opens, see! I’m +captain!”</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” spoke Peaches quietly. “The election +isn’t until next week.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that got to do with it? You ain’t +thinking of running opposition to me; are you?”</p> + +<p>“No,” and a bright spot burned on the fair +cheeks of the light-complexioned lad.</p> + +<p>“Because if you are you’ll have a fight on your +hands,” threatened Luke. “Who’s been pitching?” +he asked, his gaze roving over the crowd +of lads.</p> + +<p>“I was for our side,” replied Joe quietly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you—yes I heard about you!” exclaimed +Luke with a grating laugh. “You’re the fellow +who wants to pitch on the nine; ain’t you? Well, +you want to get that bee out of your bonnet, or +you may get stung, see? Hiram told me about you. +Why, you are only an amateur. We want the best +here at Excelsior. By Jove, it’s queer how tacky<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +some of you high school kids get as soon as you +come to a real institution. Talk about nerve, +I——”</p> + +<p>Joe fairly leaped from the bench. In another +stride he confronted Luke.</p> + +<p>“Look here!” cried our hero, anger getting the +best of him for the time being. “I’ve taken all of +that kind of talk I’m going to either from you or +Bully Shell! Now you keep still or I’ll make you. +I’ll give you the best licking you ever had; and I’ll +do it right here and now if you say another word +about my pitching! I didn’t come here to take any +of your sneers, and I don’t intend to. Now you +put that in your pipe, and smoke it, and then +close up and stay closed,” and shaking his finger +so close to the astonished Luke that it hit the +buttons on his coat, Joe turned back and sat down.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a></h2> + +<h3>“WHO WILL PITCH?”</h3> + + +<p>For a moment there was silence—a sort of +awed silence—and Teeter uttered a faint cheer.</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“You’re all right!” declared Peaches.</p> + +<p>Luke turned and glared at them. Afterward +several lads said the bully’s toady looked dazed, +as if he did not understand what had happened.</p> + +<p>“He’ll go tell Hiram now, and he’ll be laying +for you, Joe,” was Tom’s opinion.</p> + +<p>“Let him. I’m ready to meet that bully whenever +he is, and I’m not afraid, either.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk!” exclaimed Teeter +admiringly. “If Hiram got one good licking he +wouldn’t be quite so uppish. But I’m afraid this +will put you on the fritz for the nine, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care if it does. I’m going to let +’em know what I think.”</p> + +<p>Yet in the quietness of his room that night Joe +rather regretted what he had done. He realized<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +that he might have turned off Luke’s insult with a +laugh.</p> + +<p>“For if I had done so I’d stand a better chance +of getting on the nine,” mused Joe.</p> + +<p>Then a different feeling came to him.</p> + +<p>“No, I couldn’t do that either,” he reflected. +“I’m not built that way. I’m not going to lie +down and be walked on, nine or no nine, and I’m +going to find some way to play ball, at that!”</p> + +<p>There was a determined look on Joe’s face, and +he squared his shoulders in a way that meant +business. If Hiram and his crony could have seen +our hero then they might not have been so sure of +what they would do to him.</p> + +<p>“So that’s how he acted, eh?” asked the bully, +when his crony had reported to him what Joe had +said. “Well, he’ll get <i>his</i> all right. He’ll never +play ball here as long as I am manager.”</p> + +<p>“No, nor while I’m captain,” added Luke. +“Nor that friend of his either, Tom Davis.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right; we’ll make it so hot here for +both of ’em that they’ll leave at the end of the +term,” predicted Hiram.</p> + +<p>What a pity he did not know that Joe and Tom +were not of the “leaving” kind. The hotter it +was the better they liked it, for they both came +of fighting stock.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + +<p>But with all his nerve, and not regretting in the +least what he had done, Joe was a bit uneasy as +the time for the baseball organization meeting +drew near. He hoped against hope that somehow +he might get on the team, but he did not see +how. He talked with other students, and they +all told him that Hiram, Luke and their crowd +ran things to suit themselves.</p> + +<p>“But I’ve got something up my sleeve,” declared +Tom. “There may be a surprise at the +meeting.”</p> + +<p>“What are you up to?” asked Joe. “Nothing +rash, I hope.”</p> + +<p>“You wait and see,” his chum advised. “I’m +not saying anything.”</p> + +<p>As the days went by, Tom might have been +seen talking in confidential whispers to many students. +He made lots of new friends, and it was +remarked that they were neither of the “sporting +set,” nor the crowd that trained with Hiram and +Luke. To all questions Tom turned a deaf ear, +and went on his way serenely.</p> + +<p>It was almost a foregone conclusion as to who +would constitute the nine, with the exception of the +pitchers. As already explained, the students who, +as regular and substitute, had filled the box the +previous season had left, and it was up to Hiram<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +and Luke to find new pitchers. Hiram did not +play on the nine, being content to manage it, but +Luke was catcher and some of the friends of Joe +and Tom filled regular places.</p> + +<p>“How do you dope it out?” asked Tom of +Peaches one day, shortly before the organization +meeting.</p> + +<p>“Well, it’ll be about like this,” was the reply. +“We will all gather in the gymnasium—as many +as want to—and Hiram will be in the chair. He’ll +call the meeting to order and state what we’re +there for, which everyone knows already, without +being told. Then he’ll ask for nominations for +secretary, and one of his friends will go in. Then +he’ll spout about what we ought to do to win this +season, and how to do it, and say we’re sure to +be at the head of the league and win the Blue +Banner and all like that.</p> + +<p>“Then he’ll ask for nominations for players and +they’ll be voted on; we’ll have a little chinning +about money matters, Hiram may say who the +first few games will be with, and it will be all over +but the shouting.”</p> + +<p>“Well, won’t lots of fellows have a chance to +nominate players, or won’t the players themselves +ask to be given a chance?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, but what’s the use? It’s all cut and +dried.”</p> + +<p>“Who’ll be on the nine?”</p> + +<p>“I can pretty near tell you, all but the pitcher. +And that will lay between Frank Brown and Larry +Akers—both friends of Hiram. Luke will catch—that’s +a cinch. George Bland will be in centre-field. +I may be at first, though I doubt it.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, because I dared to say Joe was right for +answering Luke back that time. I’ll probably be +sent out in the daisies, but I don’t care, for with +Luke catching it’s no easy matter to hold down +the first bag. He throws so rotten high. Then +Teeter will be on second. Nat Pierson on third, +Harry Lauter in right, Jake Weston at short, and +Charlie Borden in left. That’s how it will be.”</p> + +<p>“And no show for Joe?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t see any, nor for you, either.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t care about myself, but I’m interested +in Joe. I <i>do</i> wish he could pitch.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid he can’t,” answered Peaches with a +sigh. “I’d almost be willing to give my place to +him, but I’m not altogether sure that I’ll get on the +nine, though I’m going to make a big fight for it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Joe wouldn’t think of doing anything like +that!” objected Tom. “But maybe my plan will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +work. If it does, Hiram won’t have so much to +say as he does now.”</p> + +<p>“I hope to gracious you can work something. +It’s rotten the way things are now, and it is our +own fault, too. But I’m afraid it’s too late to +change. No, you can figure that the nine is already +made up between Hiram and Luke—that is, +all but pitcher.”</p> + +<p>“Then I think Joe has a chance!” exclaimed +Tom. “I’m not going to give up until the last +minute. I’m working hard for him, but don’t say +anything to him about it. I want to surprise +him.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid it will be a disagreeable surprise,” +commented Peaches, as he left his friend.</p> + +<p>The time for the meeting was at hand and on all +sides there seemed to be but one question:</p> + +<p>“Who will pitch?”</p> + +<p>There were many shakes of heads and much +speculation, but Hiram and Luke kept their own +counsel.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a></h2> + +<h3>TOM’S PLAN FAILS</h3> + + +<p>“The meeting will come to order!” called +Hiram. “I’ll cuff some of you fellows over the +head if you don’t sit down.”</p> + +<p>It was rather an unparliamentary way of doing +things, but it proved effective, and at length quiet +reigned. As Peaches had said, Hiram began by +stating what they were there for, and by announcing +that the make-up of the nine was in order.</p> + +<p>Some unimportant business was disposed of, +there were remarks from several lads about what +the season might have in store, there were many +determinations expressed about how well the Excelsior +team would play that season, and then +Hiram said:</p> + +<p>“Nominations for the team are in order. Of +course we expect that there will be a lot more +fellows named than we can use, but there’ll probably +be a weeding-out when we get at practice. +The team named to-night will only be a tentative +one.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Like pie!” murmured Tom. “You and +Luke have it all up your sleeves.”</p> + +<p>“Has the nominating committee anything to +report?” asked Hiram, looking over at Luke. +His crony arose. Luke was chairman of the +nominating committee, as well as chairman of the +committee on membership.</p> + +<p>“Your committee would recommend the following +names,” said Luke, and then he read off +most of those named by Peaches to Tom. He +did not call off his own name, however, and there +was a blank opposite the positions of pitcher and +left field.</p> + +<p>“Say, what’s the matter, don’t I play?” demanded +Peaches, jumping up.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” answered Luke quickly. “But we +haven’t just decided where. I’m going to leave +that with Hiram, and also the position for left +field.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll settle it right now!” exclaimed the +manager. “You’ll play left field, Peaches, and +Charlie Borden will move up from there to first +base.”</p> + +<p>“What did I tell you?” murmured Peaches to +Tom. “What about the stunt you were going to +pull off?”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t time yet. See the gang I have with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +me?” and Tom motioned to a lot of lads in the +rear of the hall.</p> + +<p>“What is it—a rough house?” asked Peaches, +and then he noticed for the first time that the +athletic meeting was much better attended than +usual.</p> + +<p>“Those are new members,” declared Tom in +a whisper. “I’m counting on turning the balance +of power away from Hiram and the crowd +with him. I’ve been canvassing the last week, +and I’ve got a lot of fellows to join who never +took an interest in sports before.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ho! So that’s your game!” exclaimed +Peaches. “Well, it’s a good one all right.”</p> + +<p>“They’ll all vote for Joe for pitcher,” went +on Tom.</p> + +<p>“I notice that there are still two vacancies in +the team,” spoke Jake Weston, who had been +named as shortstop. “We had such success with +Luke as catcher last year, that I move that he +again go behind the bat.”</p> + +<p>“Second it,” sung out Harry Lauter.</p> + +<p>“It has been moved and seconded,” began +Hiram, and there came a shout of “ayes” before +he had finished.</p> + +<p>“That’s the way it always is,” whispered +Peaches. “Luke pretends he’s too modest to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +name himself, and some one else does it for him. +Oh, the cut-and-dried program is going through +all right!”</p> + +<p>“Wait and see,” suggested Tom with a wink.</p> + +<p>“Are the selections of the nominating committee +sanctioned?” asked Hiram.</p> + +<p>Again came a chorus of “ayes.”</p> + +<p>“What about the pitcher?” asked Luke. “Will +you name him, Hiram?”</p> + +<p>“Yes!” said the manager and he looked about +the room until his eyes lit on those of Joe. “I’ll +name Frank Brown as regular pitcher with Larry +Akers as substitute.”</p> + +<p>Again came the chorus of confirmation.</p> + +<p>“Just as I told you,” murmured Peaches.</p> + +<p>Tom was on his feet as the murmurs died +away. Hiram was speaking.</p> + +<p>“That completes the regular nine,” the manager +said, “and it only remains to name the substitutes. +I think we will let them go until you +fellows have had some practice, so we can get a +line on you. There’s time enough. We’ll begin +regular practice next week, if the weather permits, +and then I’ll arrange for games. I have +some in prospect, and the Blue Banner——”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Chairman!” interrupted Tom.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Well, what is it?” snapped Hiram. “I’m +talking, and I don’t want anyone to butt in.”</p> + +<p>“I rise to a point of order,” went on Tom, in +a loud voice. “The nominations have not been +closed, and I want to put in nomination the name +of a friend, who is one of the best pitchers that +ever——”</p> + +<p>“None of that!” cried Hiram. “Get down +to business. I’ll allow your point of order. Who +do you name?”</p> + +<p>“Joe Matson!” cried Tom, “and——”</p> + +<p>“You can’t elect him, what’s the use of trying?” +sneered Luke.</p> + +<p>“Maybe I can’t, with your crowd, but I came +here to-night with some friends of mine, new +members of the athletic committee, and they’ll +vote for Joe, and I think we can outvote you!” +cried Tom defiantly.</p> + +<p>“That’s right!” yelled the lads toward whom +he waved his hand. “Joe Matson for pitcher.”</p> + +<p>Luke turned pale. So did Hiram as they +looked at each other. This was something they +had not counted on—an effective trick.</p> + +<p>“For myself and for these new members I +demand a vote on the name of Joe Matson!” +went on Tom, ignoring Joe’s efforts to stop him.</p> + +<p>“That’s right—we’re for Joe!” yelled the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +new crowd. There were many of them, and with +the usual element always ready to break away +from him, Hiram knew that he would lose on the +combination.</p> + +<p>“One moment!” he shouted, banging his gavel. +Then he hurried over to Luke and the two conferred +excitedly, while there was a near-pandemonium +in the gymnasium.</p> + +<p>“I have an announcement to make!” shouted +Hiram after a bit, making his way back to the +platform. “It is true that you have the right to +nominate any one you please—that is, a member +of the athletic committee has, and members have +the right to vote as they please. But I have to +inform this audience that Sister Davis is not yet +a fully-qualified member of this committee. That +is not just yet.” Hiram sneered disagreeably.</p> + +<p>“Why not? I signed my application, was +properly endorsed, and paid in my dues!” cried +Tom. “And so did these other fellows.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” shouted his crowd in a chorus.</p> + +<p>“Very true,” went on Hiram coolly. He was +master of the situation now, and he knew it. +“But there is a rule of this organization, which +states that at the discretion of the chairman, and +the manager and captain of the team, or any +two of them, new members may be taken on probation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +for three months, and during that term of +probation they have no voting power, so you +see——”</p> + +<p>“That’s an old rule!”</p> + +<p>“It’s never been enforced!”</p> + +<p>“It’s rotten!”</p> + +<p>“That’s only a trick!”</p> + +<p>These were some of the cries that greeted the +announcement Hiram made.</p> + +<p>“It may never have been enforced, but it’s going +to be <i>now</i>!” he shouted. “It was made to +cover just such snap cases as this. You tried to +work a trick, Tom Davis, but you got left. You +and those other lads can’t vote for three months, +and so the team stands as originally named.”</p> + +<p>“But we have no captain—your rule won’t +work. You said the manager, chairman and captain +could apply that rule. Who is the captain?” +demanded Tom, as he saw his game +blocked.</p> + +<p>“Luke Fodick is captain of this nine; isn’t +he?” shouted Hiram, closing the last loophole.</p> + +<p>“Aye!” yelled the bully’s crowd.</p> + +<p>“No!” yelled Tom’s.</p> + +<p>“The ayes have it,” announced the chairman, +“and Luke and I agreed on enforcing that rule +at this time. Besides, I am acting as chairman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +in place of Henry Clay, who isn’t present, and I +have his voting proxy, so Henry and I also agree +on it, if you question the election of Luke.”</p> + +<p>“That ends it,” murmured Peaches in Tom’s +ear. “Henry Clay never does preside as chairman. +He’s only a figurehead for Hiram, and +that’s well known. Hiram always votes for him. +I guess you’re beaten Tom.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid so. I wish I’d known about that +rule.”</p> + +<p>“I’d forgotten it myself,” admitted Peaches. +“It’s rotten, but you can’t do anything unless you +outvote Hiram.”</p> + +<p>The bully was smiling mockingly at Tom and +Joe. The young pitcher felt rather foolish, but +he gave Tom credit for originating a bold move +and one that, under ordinary circumstances, +would have been effective.</p> + +<p>“You may renew your nomination in three +months, if you like, Sister Davis,” spoke Hiram +sarcastically “as you and the others will then be +voting members. I believe that is about all the +business to come before us to-night.” And he +announced the adjournment of the meeting.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a></h2> + +<h3>THE BANNER PARADE</h3> + + +<p>Instantly following Hiram’s words a hub-bub +burst out in the gymnasium. Everyone seemed to +be talking at once, and the crowd of boys split up +into two factions.</p> + +<p>There were those who were with Joe and Tom +in their contention, and who thought that they +had not been given a fair opportunity. Among +these were, of course, the lads who had not +hitherto belonged to the athletic committee, and +who had been induced by Tom to put in their applications.</p> + +<p>On the other side were what might be called +the “conservatives,” those who, while not exactly +favoring Hiram and his high-handed methods, +preferred to take the easiest way and let the old +order of things prevail.</p> + +<p>Then, too, was a smaller crowd of distinct +“Shellites” as Peaches dubbed them—friends +and close cronies of the manager who sided with +him in all things and looked upon him as a sort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +of hero. Chief among them, of course, was Luke +Fodick, and perhaps next in line stood Charlie +Borden, who had replaced Peaches at first.</p> + +<p>“It’s a rotten, mean shame!” burst out +Teeter as he came over to where Tom, Joe and +Peaches were standing. “I’m not going to stand +for it, either!”</p> + +<p>“Well, what can you do?” asked the practical +Peaches. “They have it on us good and proper. +There’s the rule.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t like it, but I’m going to stay +here just the same,” snapped Tom.</p> + +<p>“And so am I,” added Joe frankly. “There’s +no use saying I don’t care, for I do. I’d like +to get on the team. But if I can’t—why I’ll root +for ’em, that’s all.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe you’ll be picked as one of the subs,” +was what Charlie Borden said. “We always have +lots of them to make up the scrub nine. But +frankly, Matson, I don’t think you’ll pitch. Frank +Brown is going to make good, and if he doesn’t +Larry Akers will.”</p> + +<p>He turned to join some of his own particular +crowd, and with them continued the discussion of +the unexpected turn given to the athletic meeting. +Hiram and Luke were surrounded by a throng +of their cronies, and from time to time there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +could be heard from them such remarks as:</p> + +<p>“Serves ’em good and right for trying to butt +in.”</p> + +<p>“What right have new fellows to try to run +our affairs for us, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>“You sat on ’em proper, Hiram.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Luke and I fixed up that scheme,” answered +the bully, with no little pride.</p> + +<p>Joe heard, and the thought came to him that +possibly there might be a split in the ranks of the +lads—a school divided against itself, and on his +account. He took a quick resolve.</p> + +<p>Striding over to Hiram he held out his hand, +saying with a frank smile:</p> + +<p>“Hiram, don’t think for a minute I’m sore. +It’s all right, and I haven’t a word to say. I did +want to get on the nine, but I realize that I am a +new lad here, and maybe next year things will be +different. I’m for the team first, last and always. +Will you shake on it—you and Luke?”</p> + +<p>For a moment the bully eyed our hero. Luke, +too, gazed at him with a sneer on his face. Then +as a little murmur of admiration for Joe’s conduct +arose—a murmur in which some of Hiram’s +own friends joined—the latter knew that it was +the wisest policy to be at least outwardly friendly +with Joe.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>“All right, Matson,” replied Hiram. “I +guess you can come in. I’m sorry if you feel hurt +about the way we run things here at Excelsior +Hall, but——”</p> + +<p>“Not at all—‘to the victors belong the spoils,’” +quoted Joe. “Maybe you’ll let me play on the +scrub.”</p> + +<p>“Sure, if there’s a chance,” put in Luke eagerly. +He, too, saw which way the wind was likely +to blow, and noting that Hiram had changed his +conduct toward Joe it was up to the bully’s toady +to do the same. “You can play on the scrub all +you want to,” Luke added.</p> + +<p>Hiram held out his hand and, though the clasp +he gave Joe might have been more friendly, our +hero took the will for the deed. Luke, also, +shook hands, and thus, for the time being, the +threatened breach was closed. But Joe knew, and +Hiram knew, that never could there be real +friendship between them.</p> + +<p>Some of the lads began leaving the gymnasium +now. There was more talk about the coming +ball season, and some still persisted in denouncing +the high-handed methods of the manager and his +crowd. But in the main the feeling was +smothered, due chiefly to Joe’s manly act. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +young pitcher even remained for a while chatting +with Hiram, Luke and some of their cronies.</p> + +<p>“Say, you sure did have your nerve with you, +when you shook hands with those two sneaks,” +remarked Tom, when he and Joe reached their +room, a little later.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it did take nerve, but it was the only +thing to do. I’m a thousand times obliged to +you, Tom, for what you did for me, and——”</p> + +<p>“For what I didn’t do for you, I guess you +mean,” interrupted his chum with a smile. “Well, +I meant all right, but they beat us out. But +I’m not done trying. Joe, you’re going to pitch +on the first nine of Excelsior Hall before this +season is over, or I’ll eat my hat.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could believe so,” replied Joe with +a little sigh of longing.</p> + +<p>Baseball practice formally opened the next +day, which proved unexpectedly warm and springlike. +The diamond was in good shape, and a +crowd of lads turned out. A host of candidates +did their “stunts” and Luke and Hiram “sized +them up.” Joe wanted to pitch on the tentative +scrub nine that was picked to play against the +first team, but Luke, who seemed to manage the +second squad as well as the first, sent our hero +out in the field, as he also did Tom.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Never mind,” consoled Peaches, who was on +the first team. “Luke doesn’t captain the scrub +when it’s formed regularly, and when the fellow +is picked out who is to have charge I’ll speak +for you, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks. I would like a chance to get in the +box.”</p> + +<p>That the first nine had many weak spots was +soon made plain to captain and manager, and, to +give them credit, they at once set at work correcting +them.</p> + +<p>“I’ll get Dr. Rudden out to give you fellows +some pointers as soon as we’re in a little better +shape,” said Hiram, referring to the instructor +who usually acted as coach.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and you fellows need it all right,” said +Tom in a low voice.</p> + +<p>“Everybody in the gym right after the game,” +ordered Hiram, during a lull in the play. “We’re +going to arrange about the Blue Banner parade.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that,” asked Joe of Teeter.</p> + +<p>“Oh, every year all the teams in the Interscholastic +League meet and have a parade to sort +of open the season. The nine that holds the +banner marches at the head, we have a band, +and after that a little feed and it’s jolly fun. +You’ll like it.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Morningside holds the banner now, doesn’t +she?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, worse luck. It ought to come here, and +would have if Hiram and Luke had run things +differently last year. But they wouldn’t listen to +reason. Well, I’ve got to play ball. See you at +the meeting.”</p> + +<p>The regulars won the ball game by a small +margin, and then the lads trooped off to the gymnasium +to the meeting. It was much more friendly +and enthusiastic than the organization session had +been, and arrangements were quickly made for +taking part in the annual parade.</p> + +<p>“As is the custom,” said Hiram, “we will all +meet on the grounds of the school that holds the +Blue Banner—that’s Morningside, I’m sorry to +say, but next season will be different. We are going +to win the Blue Banner this time.”</p> + +<p>“That’s what he always says,” murmured +Peaches in Tom’s ear.</p> + +<p>“So we will meet on the Morningside diamond, +do the regular marching stunt and have a feed +there. It will be necessary for you fellows to +chip in for part of the expenses as our treasury +is low just now. It won’t be much. Now the +parade committee will meet to talk over details, +and so will the rooting crowd. Get busy now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +fellows; we want to make a good showing in the +parade.”</p> + +<p>The Interscholastic League, of which the Blue +Banner was the trophy, consisted of these schools +beside Morningside Academy and Excelsior Hall: +Trinity School, Woodside Hall and the Lakeview +Preparatory Institute—or, more briefly the +Lakeview Prep., which I shall call it.</p> + +<p>In the parade of the nines of these institutions, +and the followers of them, there were always +some novel features, and the lads tried to +outdo each other in singing, cheering or giving +their school yells. A committee generally had +charge of the cheering and yelling contingents, +and this body of students for Excelsior now got +busy making up new war-cries.</p> + +<p>The day of the parade was a glorious one. It +was Saturday, naturally, as that was the only time +the students could be free. Early in the afternoon +a big crowd left Excelsior Hall, the nine +and the substitutes, including Joe and Tom, in +their uniforms, each carrying a bat as an insignia +of office. Morningside Academy was about five +miles from Excelsior, and could be reached by +trolley. Several special cars carried our hero +and his companions.</p> + +<p>All the other marching contingents save Trinity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +were on hand when the Excelsior lads arrived +at Morningside, and they were noisily greeted. +A few minutes later the Trinity lads arrived and +then pandemonium broke loose.</p> + +<p>“Say, this is great!” cried Joe, as cheer after +cheer, and school-yell after school-yell, rent the +air. “I guess we’ll have some fun after all, +Tom.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, sure. It’s jolly.”</p> + +<p>The managers of the parade were rushing +wildly to and fro, trying to get things in shape +for the start. Lads who had not seen each other +for some time were exchanging greetings, and the +members of the various nines were talking “shop” +to their hearts’ content.</p> + +<p>“Get in line! Get in line!” cried the marshals. +“We’re going to start.”</p> + +<p>The lads were to parade around the Morningside +diamond, as a sort of tribute to the winning +team of the league, and then go down through +the town to the public square, where the yelling, +cheering and singing would take place. Then +they were to come back to Morningside for the +feast.</p> + +<p>The band struck up a lively air and a silence +fell over the crowd. Then, out from the midst +of the throng came the lads of Morningside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +They were to lead the line, as was their right, +by virtue of being champions, and as they swung +into formation Joe looked at them with critical +eyes. Here was the doughty foe of his school.</p> + +<p>His gaze fell upon one sturdy lad who carried +a staff—carried it proudly—and no wonder, for, +floating from it was the Blue Banner, glorious +in gold embroidery and silver lace—the Blue +Banner of the Interscholastic League—the trophy +which meant so much.</p> + +<p>“’Rah! ’Rah! ’Rah!” yelled the lads. “Three +cheers for the Blue Banner!”</p> + +<p>And how those cheers welled out! The lad +carrying the banner dipped it in response to the +salute.</p> + +<p>Joe felt his heart strangely beating. A mist of +tears came into his eyes—not tears of regret, but +rather tears of joy and pride, that he belonged +to the school which had a right to fight for that +banner. Ah, if he could but enter that struggle +himself!</p> + +<p>Slowly the Morningside lads filed to their +places. Louder played the band. There were +more cheers, more salutes to the blue trophy, and +then the banner parade was under way.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a></h2> + +<h3>JOE HOPES AND FEARS</h3> + + +<p><a href="#image03">Around the Morningside diamond marched the +singing, cheering and yelling lads.</a> The Blue +Banner fluttered in the Spring breeze, and not a +student in the crowd but either hoped it would stay +in the possession of the present owners, or would +come to his school, the desires varying according +to the allegiance of the wisher.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 376px;"> +<a name="image03" id="image03"><img src="images/image03.jpg" width="376" height="600" alt="AROUND THE MORNINGSIDE DIAMOND MARCHED THE SINGING, CHEERING AND YELLING LADS." title="AROUND THE MORNINGSIDE DIAMOND MARCHED THE SINGING, CHEERING AND YELLING LADS." /></a> +<br /><span class="caption"><a href="#Page_92">AROUND THE MORNINGSIDE DIAMOND MARCHED THE SINGING, CHEERING AND YELLING LADS.</a></span> +</div> + +<p>It was a gala occasion for the town of Morningside, +this Blue Banner parade, and the people +turned out in great numbers to watch the lads. +Throngs came from neighboring towns and villages, +and some even from a distant city, for the +boys could always be depended on to make the +occasion enjoyable.</p> + +<p>The Excelsior Hall crowd did some new +“stunts.” Under the leadership of Luke and +Hiram they rendered some odd songs and yells, +and then, as they passed around the public square, +Hiram executed his main surprise. The leader<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +of Excelsior, none other than Luke Fodick, had +been carrying a pole, on the top of which was a +canvas bundle. It was tied about with strings in +such a manner that, by pulling on one cord the +wrapping would fall off, as when a statue is unveiled. +To all questions as to what was on the +pole under the canvas Luke and Hiram returned +only evasive replies.</p> + +<p>But on reaching the public square, when the +cheering was at its height, Luke pulled the string. +At once there floated from the staff an “effigy” +of the Blue Banner. It was made of blue calico +and worked on it in strands of yellow rope were +the words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="noi"><span class="smcap">We’ll have the real banner this year!</span></p></div> + +<p>Surmounting the odd trophy was a stuffed +eagle, rather the worse for being moth-eaten, and +worn “to a frazzle,” as Tom said. But it made +a hit, and the yells of laughter bore evidence of +how the crowd appreciated it.</p> + +<p>“Guess we’ve made good all right,” said Hiram +to his crony. “There’s nothing else like it in +the parade.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” answered Luke. “Oh, it takes +us to do things.”</p> + +<p>“And sometimes <i>not</i> do them,” murmured +Teeter. “We ought to have the real banner.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Maybe we will,” spoke Joe.</p> + +<p>The other schools had their own specialties in +singing, cutting queer capers, or in cheers, and +made hits in their own way. Around the square +marched the lads, and then, with a final chorus, +rendered by all the students, the parade was over. +Back to Morningside Academy they went, and +sat down to what the papers described later as +a “sumptuous repast; a feast of reason and a +flow of soul.”</p> + +<p>Jolly good fellowship prevailed at the board. +Speeches were made, toasts responded to, and +baseball talk flowed on all sides. Hiram and +Luke made remarks, as did the managers and +captains of the other nines. Predictions were +freely expressed as to who would have the banner +the next year, and then came more singing, more +cheering and more yelling.</p> + +<p>The dinner broke up finally, and then the +various managers and captains got together to +arrange the Interscholastic League schedule of +games.</p> + +<p>“Well, it was all right; wasn’t it?” asked Tom +of Joe, when they were on their way back to Excelsior +Hall.</p> + +<p>“Fine and dandy,” was the answer. “They’re +a nice lot of fellows—all of ’em.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Quite some class to those Trinity School +lads,” remarked Tom. “It’s a swell place—a lot +of millionaires’ sons go there I understand.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but I hobnobbed with some of ’em, and +they weren’t a bit uppish. Right good fellows, +I thought.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, all millionaire lads aren’t cads though +money sometimes makes a chap that way. Trinity +must be quite a school.”</p> + +<p>“I guess it is, but Excelsior is good enough +for me. We’re in with a dandy crowd of fellows, +though, and that makes it nice if you’ve got +to play a lot of games with ’em. Nothing like +class when it comes to sport. We ought to have +some corking good games this Summer.”</p> + +<p>“I only wish you and I were more in it,” went +on Tom.</p> + +<p>“Wait until we see about the scrub,” suggested +him chum. “I’m not worrying as much as I was +at first.”</p> + +<p>But, though Joe thus lightly passed over the +matter, deep down in his heart there was a great +longing. To him baseball meant more than to +the average player. From the time when he had +seen his first game, as a little chap, our hero had +fairly lived, eaten and slept in an atmosphere of +the diamond. He had organized a team of lads<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +when he was scarcely nine years old, and played +those little chaps in a sort of improvised circuit.</p> + +<p>Then, as he grew, and developed, and found +that he could pitch, the world seemed to hold +something worth while for Joe Matson. “Baseball +Joe,” he had been dubbed, when as a small +chap he shouldered his bat and started off across +the lots to a game, and “Baseball Joe” he was +yet.</p> + +<p>How he longed to be on the regular nine, even +in the outfield, none but himself knew. And +when he dreamed of the possibility that he might +some time occupy the pitching mound—well, he +had to stop short, for he found himself indulging +in a too high flight of fancy.</p> + +<p>“Get back to earth, Joe,” he told himself. +“If you want to pitch for Excelsior you’ve got +to do a heap of waiting, and you are pretty good +at that game.”</p> + +<p>And so Joe had hopes and fears—hopes that +his dream might come true, and fears lest the +enmity of Hiram and Luke would keep him one +of the “scrubbiest of the scrubs.”</p> + +<p>He was tired after the excitement of the +parade, and so was Tom, but they were not too +weary to accept an invitation to gather in the +room of Teeter and Peaches that night for a surreptitious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +lunch of ginger snaps, cheese and +bottled soda water, which had been smuggled in. +And, as before, the lads took the same precautions +with the fake books and the tubes, hose +and bottles. But they were not disturbed.</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ll have to get busy next week,” remarked +Teeter as he slowly sipped his glass.</p> + +<p>“How so?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Hard practice against the scrub starts Monday.”</p> + +<p>“Who’s captain of the scrub; did you hear?” +asked Peaches eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Ward Gerard—a nice fellow, too.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the stuff!” cried Peaches. “Now +there’s a chance for you, Joe. Ward’s room is +on this corridor. I’m going to see him.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll be caught,” warned Teeter.</p> + +<p>“Caught nothing!” retorted his chum. “It’s +so late none of the profs. or monitors will think +a fellow will dare go out. Ward isn’t an early +sleeper, and I’m going to see him and ask him +to let Joe pitch on the scrub before some one +else gets the place. I’ll be back in a few minutes, +fellows. Don’t eat up all the grub,” and with +that Peaches slipped noiselessly from the room.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a></h2> + +<h3>ON THE SCRUB</h3> + + +<p>“It doesn’t take Peaches long to make up his +mind,” remarked Tom.</p> + +<p>“No, he’s always right on the job,” agreed +Teeter.</p> + +<p>“It’s mighty good of him—and all of you—to +go to all this trouble and fuss on my account,” +added Joe. “I appreciate it, too.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense!” exclaimed Teeter, as he balanced +himself on his toes to see if it was safe +to indulge in any more cheese and ginger snaps. +“We’re glad to do it. I only hope you do make +the team, and pitch, at that.”</p> + +<p>“If I can pitch on the scrub, I’ll be satisfied +for a while.”</p> + +<p>“We want to make Excelsior the best nine in +the league this year,” went on Teeter. “We’ve +got to have the Blue Banner, and one way we +can cinch it is to have a good pitcher.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks!” laughed Joe.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Well, I mean it,” resumed Teeter, helping +himself to a handful of the crisp snaps. “That’s +where our weak point was last season. Many a +game we gave away after we had it practically +won, just because our pitchers went up in the +air. And I’m afraid it’ll be the same now. Frank +Brown isn’t much, unless he’s improved a whole +lot over season, and I don’t believe he has. And +as for Larry Akers—well, he’s only a makeshift. +Now, I’d like to see——”</p> + +<p>But Teeter’s little talk was interrupted by the +sound of footsteps in the corridor outside. For +a moment the lads gazed anxiously at each other, +and Tom made a grab for one of the fake books, +but a look of relief came over their faces when +the door opened and Peaches entered, followed +by some one.</p> + +<p>“I brought Ward with me,” explained the lad +with the fair complexion. “Thought it was the +safest way. Come on in, Ward; I guess these +Indians haven’t scalped all the grub.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, fall to,” invited Teeter. “There’s +plenty.”</p> + +<p>“Charmed, I’m sure,” murmured Ward with +an assumed society air.</p> + +<p>“You know Joe Matson, of course,” went on +Peaches.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, sure. He beat me in physics class the +other week and I haven’t forgotten it.”</p> + +<p>“He wants to pitch on the scrub,” went on the +originator of the scheme. “He’s all to the mustard, +too, and——”</p> + +<p>“Say, let me say a word for myself,” put in +Joe. “I’m not a political candidate in the hands +of my friends. Is there a show for me on the +scrub, Ward?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I haven’t made up the team yet, and +you’re the first applicant for pitcher, so you’ll +have first choice.”</p> + +<p>“Then it’s as good as settled!” declared +Peaches. “When do you make up the team, +Ward?”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow, I guess. I’ll put you down as +first pitcher, Joe, and I hope you can throw a +scare into the school team—not because I’m not +on it myself, but the better opposition they have, +the better they’ll play for the banner.”</p> + +<p>“What about Hiram?” asked Tom. “Won’t +he kick up a fuss if he knows you’ve got Joe? +And what about Luke?”</p> + +<p>“Say, I’m running the scrub!” exclaimed +Ward. “They haven’t anything to say after I +take charge. What I say goes!”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” agreed Teeter. “I’ll do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +Hiram that much justice. He never interferes +with the scrub after the season starts. Neither +does Luke. They have their hands full managing +their own players.”</p> + +<p>“Then I guess I’ll get a chance to pitch,” murmured +Joe, and he was happier than he had been +in some time. It was only a small beginning, but +it was a start, and that meant a good deal.</p> + +<p>Ward Gerard, whom Joe and Tom did not +know very well, turned out to be a good-natured +and pleasant companion. He was one of the new +arrivals at the school, but already stood well in +his classes and on the athletic field. Football +was his specialty, but he was none the less a good +baseball player and might have made the first +team had he tried harder.</p> + +<p>The boys talked of the diamond until the +booming of the big school clock warned them that +they had better get to bed; so with good-nights +and a renewed promise on the part of Ward to +place Joe in the box, the conference broke up.</p> + +<p>“Oh, things are coming your way slowly,” remarked +Tom, as he and Joe reached their room, +having successfully dodged a prying monitor on +the look-out for rule violators.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and now I’ve got to make good.”</p> + +<p>“You can do that easily enough. You always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +have. And when the three months are up I’m +going to make my motion over again, and I’ll +bet we’ll elect you as regular pitcher.”</p> + +<p>“I guess you forget that when the three +months are up the Summer vacation will be here +and the nine will be out of business,” remarked +Joe. “No, I’ve got to work my own way, I +guess.”</p> + +<p>There were some murmurs of surprise when +it was announced the next day that Joe Matson +was to be the scrub pitcher. Friends of rival +candidates urged their claims on Ward, but he +stuck to his promise and the place went to Joe.</p> + +<p>“Did Hiram or Luke say anything when you +told them?” asked Tom of the scrub captain.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes—a little.”</p> + +<p>“What was it?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing very pleasant, so don’t repeat it to +Joe, but Hiram wanted to know why I didn’t +pick out a decent fellow to pitch against the first +team, and Luke remarked that Joe would be +knocked out of the box in the first practice game, +and that I’d have to get some one else.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Luke said that, did he?” asked Tom, +and there was a look of smothered anger in his +eyes.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and then some more.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Just wait until the first game—that’s all,” +requested Tom quietly. “If they knock Joe Matson +out of the box it will be the first time it’s +happened since he found that he was a real +pitcher.”</p> + +<p>“There are some pretty good batters on the +first team,” warned Ward.</p> + +<p>“That’s the kind Joe likes,” replied his chum. +“Just you wait; that’s all.”</p> + +<p>It was the day for the first regular practice +between the scrub and first teams. For several +afternoons Joe had been pitching to Bob Harrison, +who often acted as the scrub catcher, and +as there was so much other individual playing +going on no one had paid much attention to the +work of our hero.</p> + +<p>“Say, I think we’ve got a ‘find’ all right,” +announced Bob to Ward, just before the practice +game was called.</p> + +<p>“How so?” asked the scrub captain.</p> + +<p>“Why, that Matson can sting ’em in for further +orders, and he’s got some of the prettiest +curves that ever came over the plate. The Hiram-Luke +crowd is going to sit up and take notice, +take it from yours truly.”</p> + +<p>“I’m glad of it!” declared Ward. “We’ll +do our best to beat ’em, and it will be for their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +own good. They’re soft, naturally at the beginning +of the season, and so are we, but if we can +wallop ’em, so much the better. Have you and +Joe got your signals down?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, he’s better at that than I am. He must +have played some pretty good games.”</p> + +<p>“So Sister Davis says. Well, here they come. +Now to see what we can do?”</p> + +<p>There was a conference between Luke and +Ward, and in order to give his team the most +severe kind of a try-out, Luke arranged to let +the scrub bat last.</p> + +<p>The first practice game was important in more +ways than one. Not only did it open the season +for Excelsior Hall, but it would show up the weak +players, and, while the first team was practically +picked, there might be a change in it. At least +so every lad who was not on it, but wanted to be, +thought, and he hoped against hope that his playing +might attract the attention of the manager.</p> + +<p>Another thing was that Dr. Rudden, the coach, +sometimes took a hand in the baseball affairs and +occasionally he had been known to over-ride the +judgment of Hiram and Luke, insisting that some +player whom they had not picked be allowed to +show what he could do on the first team. So +there were many hearts that beat high with hope,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +and among them was Joe’s. And there were +hearts that were a bit anxious—to wit, members +of the first team who were not quite sure of +themselves.</p> + +<p>There was a large crowd in the grandstand and +on the bleachers when the gong rang to start the +game—a throng of students mostly, for the general +public was not admitted so early in the +season.</p> + +<p>It was a good day for the game, albeit the +ground was a trifle soft, and the Spring wind +not as warm as might be. The boys in their +spick and span new uniforms made a natty appearance +as they trotted out on the diamond.</p> + +<p>According to custom, Dr. Fillmore, the venerable +head of the school, pitched the first ball +formally to open the season. It was a sort of +complimentary ball, and was not expected to be +struck at.</p> + +<p>“Play ball!” yelled the umpire as he took the +new horsehide sphere from its tinfoil wrapping +and handed it to Dr. Fillmore. The president +bowed as though about to make a speech, and Joe, +who was in the box, stepped back. Our hero’s +heart was thumping under his blouse, for at last +he was about to pitch his first game at Excelsior +Hall, even if it was but on the scrub.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a></h2> + +<h3>JOE’S GREAT WORK</h3> + + +<p>“Let her go, Doctor!”</p> + +<p>“Make him hit it, Professor!”</p> + +<p>“Strike him out!”</p> + +<p>“Give him an old Greek curve!”</p> + +<p>These were some of the cries that reached Dr. +Fillmore as he stood in Joe’s place in the pitching +box. The president of the faculty smiled +pleasantly. He was used to this mild “joshing,” +which was always indulged in by the lads of Excelsior +on the occasion of the opening of the season. +Not that it was at all offensive; in fact, it +rather showed the good feeling existing between +the instructors and their pupils.</p> + +<p>“Are you all ready?” asked Dr. Fillmore, as +though he was inquiring whether a student was +prepared to recite, and as if he really expected +to pitch a ball that was to be hit.</p> + +<p>“Play ball!” called Harvey Hallock, who was +umpiring.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Not too swift now, if you please, Doctor,” +stipulated Nat Pierson, who was first up.</p> + +<p>Then the venerable president delivered the new, +white horsehide sphere. He threw rather awkwardly, +but with more accuracy than might have +been expected from a man who had a ball in his +hands but once a year. Right over the plate it +went, and though usually the initial ball was never +struck at, Nat could not resist the opportunity.</p> + +<p>He “bunted,” and the ball popped up in the +air and sailed back toward the pitcher’s box. To +the surprise of all, Dr. Fillmore stepped forward +and neatly caught it.</p> + +<p>“Hurray!”</p> + +<p>“That’s the stuff!”</p> + +<p>“Put him on the team!”</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you say you were a ball-player, +Doctor?”</p> + +<p>“Let him play the game!”</p> + +<p>These and many other cries greeted the president’s +performance. He bowed again, gravely, +and smiled genially as he tossed the ball to Joe, +who was waiting for it. A little round of applause +came from some members of the faculty who had +accompanied the doctor to the grounds, and then +the head of the school walked off the diamond +amid a riot of cheers. The baseball season at Excelsior<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +Hall had opened under auspicious occasions +everyone thought, and more than one lad +had great hopes that the Blue Banner would +come back there to stay for a while.</p> + +<p>“Play ball!” called the umpire again, and this +time the game was on in earnest.</p> + +<p>Joe dug a little hole for the toe of his shoe, +revolved the ball in his hands a few times, and +looked to get the signal from Bob Harrison, the +scrub catcher.</p> + +<p>Bob, who knew the individual characteristics of +each batter better than did Joe (though the latter +was rapidly learning them) signalled for a high +out, and our hero nodded his head in confirmation. +The next instant he delivered the ball.</p> + +<p>There was a vicious swing of the bat, and there +could almost be heard the swish as it cut the air. +And that is all it did do, for the horsehide landed +squarely in Bob’s glove with a resounding ping! +and there was one strike against Nat.</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to do it!” cried Bob.</p> + +<p>“Say, what’s the matter with you?” angrily demanded +Luke Fodick of one of his best batters. +“What do you want to fan for?”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t help it, I guess,” answered Bob +rather sheepishly. “It was a curve.”</p> + +<p>“Well, don’t you know how to handle them by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +this time?” fairly snarled Hiram, who was closely +watching every player. “If you don’t know how +to hit out a hot one you’d better go back on the +scrub. Don’t do it again.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll kill the next ball!” declared Nat, but he +did not like the looks of it as Joe delivered it, +and did not swing his bat.</p> + +<p>“Strike!” called the umpire sharply.</p> + +<p>“Wha—what?” cried Nat.</p> + +<p>“I said strike. It was right over the plate.”</p> + +<p>“Plate nothing!”</p> + +<p>“What’s he doing, calling strikes on you?” demanded +Hiram.</p> + +<p>“It looks that way,” spoke Nat.</p> + +<p>“Well, say——” began the manager in his bullying +manner, as he strode toward the umpire.</p> + +<p>“Hold on now!” interposed Luke, who sometimes +had better judgment than Hiram. “It’s +all right. Don’t get excited. It may have been +a strike. The fellows haven’t got on to all the +points of the game yet this season. Go on.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” growled Hiram. “But don’t you +dare strike out, Nat.”</p> + +<p>Joe’s next delivery was called a ball, though it +was rightly a strike. Joe said nothing, realizing +that the umpire was naturally a bit afraid of offending +Hiram and Luke too much. Then Nat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +knocked a little pop fly, which was easily taken +care of by the second baseman, and the first man +on the regular, or school team, as it was called, +was out.</p> + +<p>“All ready for the next one!” called Catcher +Bob.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you fan!” warned Hiram to Jake Weston, +who was next up.</p> + +<p>“Just watch me!” exulted Jake as he walked +confidently to the plate.</p> + +<p>Joe sent in a puzzling drop, with considerable +swiftness, but to his chagrin Jake “killed” it, +landing on it squarely and lining it out for two +bags.</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to do it!” yelled Luke, capering +about.</p> + +<p>“Now, where’s your star pitcher?” inquired +Hiram, and he looked toward Tom Davis, who +was playing first. “I guess he isn’t so much!”</p> + +<p>Tom said nothing. He realized that perhaps +his advocacy of Joe’s abilities had brought his +friend and himself too much in the limelight. But +he meant well.</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, we just let you hit that one to see +how it felt,” shouted Bob Harrison, and that +brought back Joe’s nerve, which, for the moment, +had deserted him as he saw his effort go for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +naught. Jake was on second, but he only got one +bag farther, stealing to third as Joe struck out +the next man.</p> + +<p>The school nine members were now whispering +uneasily among themselves. Never before, at the +opening of the season had they had a scrub pitcher +who did such things to them. They realized that +they had to play the game for all it was worth.</p> + +<p>Luke and Hiram were whispering earnestly together +and when Harry Lauter, whom Joe had +struck out walked to the bench, Luke stepped up +to the plate.</p> + +<p>“Hold on!” cried Ward Gerard quickly. “You +are out of your turn, Luke.”</p> + +<p>“How’s that?” indignantly demanded the +school captain.</p> + +<p>“George Bland is up next, according to the batting +order you gave me.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ve changed the batting order,” put +in Hiram quickly.</p> + +<p>The truth of the matter was that George was +not a very good hitter, while Luke was, and both +the latter and the manager had seen the necessity +of making at least one run the first inning in order +to inspire confidence in the school team. They +had hoped to change the batting order unobserved, +and bring up a good hitter when he was most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +needed. But the scrub captain had been too sharp +for them.</p> + +<p>“Changed the batting order, eh?” asked Ward. +“You can’t do it now under the rules.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, we ain’t playing strictly according +to rules yet,” said Luke weakly. “I’m going to +bat, anyhow. You can change your batting order +if you like.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t have to,” responded Ward. “But +go ahead, we’ll allow it.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks—for nothing!” exclaimed Hiram sarcastically, +and Luke held his place at home plate.</p> + +<p>The situation was now rather tense. There +were two men out, a man was on third and the +captain of the school team himself was at bat. It +was up to Luke to bring in his man and save his +side from a goose egg in the first inning. Luke +fairly glared at Joe, as if daring our hero to strike +him out, and Joe was no less determined to do +that feat if possible.</p> + +<p>He looked at Bob for a signal, and got one +that meant to deliver a swift in. Then Joe knew +that Luke, for all his boasting was a bit afraid—afraid +of being hit by the ball, and, being timid +would involuntarily step back if the horsehide +seemed to be coming too close to him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Here goes!” murmured Joe, and he sent in +one with all his force.</p> + +<p>As he had expected, the school captain did step +back, and, an instant later, the umpire cried:</p> + +<p>“Strike!”</p> + +<p>“What?” fairly yelled Luke turning at him. +There was a laugh from some of the scrubs, and +it was joined in by a number of the other students—lads +who were kept from the athletic committee +by the snap ruling of Luke and Hiram. The captain +realized that there was a feeling against him, +and he quickly swallowed his wrath.</p> + +<p>“Watch what you’re doing,” warned Hiram.</p> + +<p>“Oh, that was only a fluke,” declared Luke. +Joe smiled. He was going to send in another +“fluke,” but not the same kind. He delivered a +quick ball, with a peculiar upward twist to it, and, +as Luke swung viciously at it, but too low, naturally +his bat passed under the ball.</p> + +<p>“Strike two!” yelled the umpire, as the ball +landed safely in Bob’s big mitt.</p> + +<p>There was a murmur of astonishment from the +school nine and its particular sympathizers, and +a breath of delight from the despised scrubs. +Hiram flushed angrily, yet he dared say nothing, +for there was no doubt about this strike. As for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +Luke, he was too surprised to make any comment.</p> + +<p>“I’ll get the next one!” he declared, as he +tapped his bat on the home plate. He did hit it, +but it was only a foul, and, being on the last +strike, did not count against him.</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to do it. You’re finding his +curves if he has any!” cried Hiram. “Swat it!”</p> + +<p>“Sure!” assented Luke.</p> + +<p>With all his might he hit at the next ball, only +to fan the air.</p> + +<p>“Strike three—batter’s out!” called the umpire +amid a tense silence. Luke had done what he +was seldom guilty of; he had struck out, and to +a pitcher whom he not only hated but despised. +Joe’s great work had enabled the scrub to retire +the school team without a run—a thing that had +not been done at Excelsior in many years.</p> + +<p>“Wow! That’s the stuff!” yelled Tom, as he +raced in from first. “I knew you could do it, +Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Great work, old man!” complimented Ward. +“Now we’ll see what we can do.”</p> + +<p>There were gloomy and dubious looks on the +faces of Hiram and Luke as the school team filed +out on the field.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a></h2> + +<h3>THE GAME AT MORNINGSIDE</h3> + + +<p>Interest, especially for Joe, centered in what +Frank Brown, the school pitcher, might do. So, +as a matter of fact, was the attention of nearly +all the players and spectators on him. For, to a +large extent, the victories of the Excelsior team +would depend on what their battery could do. +Of course it was up to the other players to lend +them support, but it was pretty well established +that if the pitcher and catcher did well, support +would not be lacking.</p> + +<p>At the catching end of it Luke Fodick could be +depended on nearly every time. But Frank Brown +had yet to show what he could do as a twirler. +In practice he had made out fairly well, but now +the real test was to come.</p> + +<p>Naturally he was a bit nervous as he walked to +the box, to face his first opponent, none other than +Ward Gerard, the scrub captain; and Ward was +a good hitter. He managed to hit a two bagger.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<p>Luke and Hiram cast anxious looks at each +other. Well they knew how much depended on the +showing their pitcher would make.</p> + +<p>“Watch yourself, Frank,” called Hiram—just +the very advice to make poor Frank more nervous. +But he braced up, struck out the next man, and +managed to hold the succeeding one hitless.</p> + +<p>The school nine was now about in the same position +as the scrub had been. Their opponents had +a man on third and two out. It was a time when +Frank needed to brace up, and repeat Joe’s trick. +But he could not do it. Joe himself came to the +bat, and with watchful eyes picked out just the ball +he wanted after two strikes had been called on +him. He rapped out as pretty a single as had +been seen on the diamond in many a long day, and +brought in Ward with the first run.</p> + +<p>“Wow! Wow!” yelled the scrubs, capering +about. “That’s the way to do it!”</p> + +<p>Luke and Hiram were almost in a panic. They +saw the team they had so carefully built up in +danger of disintegration; and holding a hasty conference, +warning was sent to every school player +to do his very best to get the scrub side out without +another run.</p> + +<p>Frank did it, for he struck out the next man, +and Joe died at second. But the scrub had one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +run and the school nine nothing. It was a poor +beginning for Excelsior’s chances at the Blue +Banner when the players realized what a strong +team Morningside had, and how efficient were the +other nines in the league.</p> + +<p>I am not going to describe that first school-scrub +game in detail. I shall have other more +important contests to tell you about, as the story +goes on. Sufficient to say that after the ending +of the first inning Hiram and Luke went at their +lads in such a fierce spirit that there was a big +improvement.</p> + +<p>Joe kept up his good work in the box, but he +had not yet “found” himself that season. He +was not hardened enough; he lacked practice, and +his arm soon gave out. Then, too the fielding of +the scrubs was ragged, after Joe once began +to be hit. The result was that the school nine +began to pile up runs, and Hiram and Luke were +jubilant.</p> + +<p>“Now, where’s your wonderful pitcher?” +asked Luke of Ward.</p> + +<p>“Oh, he’s coming on. No use to work him too +hard at first,” replied the scrub captain good naturedly. +“Look out for your own.”</p> + +<p>This advice was needed, for, after helping his +team to get a good lead, Frank Brown also rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +went to pieces and when the game was over the +school team led by only two runs.</p> + +<p>“That’s too close for comfort,” observed +Hiram to Luke, as they walked off the diamond. +“Frank has got to do better than that.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he’ll be all right after a little more practice,” +spoke the captain.</p> + +<p>“If he isn’t Larry Akers will go in,” warned +the manager.</p> + +<p>“Sure. Well, we’ve got lots of time before the +first Morningside game. We’ll win that.”</p> + +<p>“I hope we do,” but Hiram’s tone was not confident. +Somehow he was worried over the way +Joe Matson pitched.</p> + +<p>As for our hero, he was warmly congratulated +by his friends. Tom Davis was particularly enthusiastic.</p> + +<p>“We’ll have you in the box for the school nine +before long,” he predicted.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” answered Joe rather dubiously. +“It’s a close combination between Hiram and +Luke, and they may get Frank Brown into shape.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you believe it. He can’t pitch as good +as you in a thousand years.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” chimed in Teeter.</p> + +<p>“Nothing like having good friends,” remarked +Joe laughingly.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now that the season was started the baseball +practice went on with a vim. Luke and Hiram +had some of their players out every day, batting +or catching the ball. Others were sent around +the track to improve their wind, and in the gymnasium +others were set at work on the various +machines, as Dr. Rudden found their weak spots.</p> + +<p>The school nine battled against the scrub, too, +and though Joe improved in his pitching so did +the members of the first team in their batting, so +that there were no other contests as close as the +first one.</p> + +<p>The time for the first Morningside game was +approaching. It was the first regular contest of +the season and as such was always quite an affair. +This time it was to be played on the Morningside +diamond, and Luke and Hiram were bending +every effort to win the game.</p> + +<p>The nine picked to play was practically the same +as the one that played the first game against the +scrub. There had been some shifts, and then +shifts back again, and under the urging of the +coach, the captain and the manager, the lads had +improved very much.</p> + +<p>The day of the first game came. In special +cars or in stage coaches, for those who preferred +that method of locomotion, while some of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +more wealthy lads hired autos, the nine and its +supporters made their way to Morningside. +Hiram, Luke and a few of their cronies went in +a big touring car that Spencer Trusdell, a millionaire’s +son, owned.</p> + +<p>“Some class to them,” remarked Joe, as he and +Tom with a squad of the scrub and substitutes, +got aboard a trolley car.</p> + +<p>“They may have to walk back,” predicted +Tommy Barton, one of the scrub.</p> + +<p>“Why?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Spencer may not have money enough left to +buy gasolene. He’s a sport, you know, and always +betting.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he’ll bet on his own nine; won’t he?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes—but——” and Tommy paused significantly.</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to say you think Morningside +will win, do you?” asked Ward Gerard. +“You old traitor, you!”</p> + +<p>“I shouldn’t be surprised to see our side licked,” +replied Tommy calmly. “They’re soft, and Morningside +has already played one game with Trinity +and trimmed them.”</p> + +<p>And as Joe and Tom journeyed to the grounds +they heard others say the same thing. Nevertheless,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +Luke, Hiram and their own particular crowd +were very confident.</p> + +<p>There was a big attendance at the game. The +stands were filled with a rustling, yelling, cheering +and vari-colored throng—the colors being supplied +by scores of pretty girls, whose brothers, or +whose friends, played on either nine.</p> + +<p>“Jove! What wouldn’t I give to be booked to +pitch to-day!” exclaimed Joe, as he and Tom +found their seats, for neither was on the list of +substitutes.</p> + +<p>“I know how you feel, old man,” sympathized +Tom. “But just hang on, and things may come +your way.”</p> + +<p>“Play ball!” cried the umpire, and the first +big game of the season for Excelsior Hall was +underway.</p> + +<p>That contest is still talked about in the annals +of the two schools. It started off well, and Excelsior, +first to the bat, rapped out two runs before +the side was retired. Then came the first real intimation +that the opponents of Morningside were +weak in several places, notably in the pitching box, +and in fielding and stick-work.</p> + +<p>Frank Brown, after striking out two men in +succession, and giving the impression to his mates +that he was going to make good, and to his rivals<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +that they had a strong boxman to fight against—Frank, +I say, literally went up in the air.</p> + +<p>He was not used to being hooted at and jeered, +and this is just what the Morningsideites did to +him to get his “goat.” They got it, for before +the first inning closed he had been unmercifully +pounded, and four runs were chalked up to the +credit of the foes of Excelsior Hall.</p> + +<p>Still that score might not have been so bad had +Hiram and Luke kept their heads. They changed +their batting order, put in some substitutes, and +Hiram used strong language to Frank.</p> + +<p>“You’ve got to do better!” insisted the bullying +manager. This had the further effect of getting +on Frank’s nerves, and he did worse than +ever.</p> + +<p>“Say, why don’t you fellows get a real +pitcher?” asked Halsted Hart, manager of the +Morningsides.</p> + +<p>“This is too easy,” added Ted Clay, the opposing +pitcher with a laugh.</p> + +<p>In desperation Luke finally sent in Larry Akers +to pitch. At first he tightened up and stopped the +winning streak of Morningside, and then, he, too, +fell by the wayside, and the hooting, yelling crowd +had his “Angora,” as Peaches dolefully remarked.</p> + +<p>It might be said in passing that both Peaches<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +and Teeter did well, and George Bland not quite +so well. But the rest of the Excelsior team made +many errors. Even Luke was not exempt, and +this had the further effect of worrying his players.</p> + +<p>It is no pleasure to write of that first game, and +that is why I have not gone into details about it, +for Excelsior Hall is a school dear to my heart, +and I do not like to chronicle her defeats.</p> + +<p>When the ninth inning came the score stood +fourteen to six. In desperation, Luke had sent in +Ned Turton to replace Larry. Several of his own +friends asked him to give Joe a chance, but neither +he nor Hiram would listen. In fact, there was a +disagreement between Hiram and Luke. The +manager wanted to shift Peaches back to first base +but Luke would not hear of it until Hiram threatened +to resign as manager, and that so alarmed +the captain that he let him have his way.</p> + +<p>That settled matters, not because Peaches went +to first, though he did good service there, but it +was too late to stem the losing tide. The Excelsior +team could not get a run in their share of the +ninth, and Morningside did not take the trouble +to finish out, the final score being fourteen to six +in their favor. The opponents of Excelsior had +snowed them under.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a></h2> + +<h3>A STRANGE DISCOVERY</h3> + + +<p>“Three cheers for Excelsior Hall!” cried +Captain Elmer Dalton of the Morningside team. +“All ready boys, with a will!”</p> + +<p>The cheers were deafening and perhaps they +were all the more hearty because it was the winning +nine and its supporters who were giving them.</p> + +<p>The crowd swarmed over the diamond, players +and spectators mingling. Everybody was talking +at once, the losing side and their supporters trying +to explain how the defeat had come about, and +the victors exulting in their victory.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see what’s the matter with you fellows, +anyhow,” growled Hiram, as he strode over and +joined the little group of disconsolate ones who +were walking toward the dressing room. “You +ought to have beaten ’em.”</p> + +<p>“And so we would have if they’d given me decent +support,” broke in Luke. “There were too +many changes on the team.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + +<p>“And I suppose you think I’m responsible for +that,” retorted Hiram quickly.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t say so. One thing, though; there’s +got to be another change.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” added the manager scowling at +the team, but neither he nor Luke intimated where +the change ought to be made.</p> + +<p>“They’re right on that one point,” said Peaches, +“a big shift is needed, and I can tell ’em one +place to make it, if not two.”</p> + +<p>“Where?” asked Teeter.</p> + +<p>“Pitcher for one,” replied Peaches quickly, +“and catcher for the other. If we had two good +men as a battery there would have been a different +story to-day.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” quickly demanded Hiram, turning +around, for Peaches had unconsciously spoken +louder than he intended.</p> + +<p>“I said I agreed with you,” spoke the lad diplomatically, +“that if we’d had some changes +the result would have been different to-day,” but +he did not mention the changes.</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s all over,” remarked Joe to Tom, as +they descended from the grandstand. “Let’s get +back home. Jove! But it’s too bad to start the +season with a defeat.”</p> + +<p>“Somebody had to lose,” replied Tom philosophically.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +“We couldn’t both win, and I didn’t +expect it would turn out much different when I +heard the talk on the way to the game. But it +will teach Luke and Hiram a lesson.”</p> + +<p>“If they want to learn it—yes.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t worry. They’ll be only too anxious, +after to-day. But I notice some of the Trinity +Hall and Lakeview Prep. players here. Getting +a line on us, I guess.”</p> + +<p>“Shouldn’t wonder. We play Trinity next +week.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we ought to win that game. Hurry up, +Joe, and we can get the next trolley back. No +autos for us.”</p> + +<p>As the two chums hurried across the diamond +they found themselves in the midst of a crowd of +Morningside players and students. At the sight +of one lad in the uniform of Morningside, a uniform +not soiled by the dust and grime of the diamond, +Tom plucked Joe by the sleeve.</p> + +<p>“For the love of Mike, look there!” exclaimed +the former first baseman of the Silver Stars.</p> + +<p>“Where?” asked Joe, and Tom pointed to +the player in the spick and span new uniform.</p> + +<p>“Sam Morton!” gasped Joe, as he recognized +his former rival on the Stars and his sometime +enemy. “Sam Morton! What’s he doing here?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Looks as if he was on the nine,” replied Tom. +“He’s in one of the Morningside uniforms, but +he didn’t take part in the game.”</p> + +<p>“Sam Morton here!” went on Joe, wonderingly. +“It doesn’t seem possible. I wonder why +we didn’t hear something about it? It sure is he, +and yet——”</p> + +<p>“Wait, I’ll ask some one,” volunteered Tom, +and tapping on the shoulder a Morningside player +near him, he asked: “Is he one of your nine?” +Tom pointed to Sam Morton, who had not yet observed +our heroes.</p> + +<p>“What? Oh, yes; he’s a newcomer here I believe, +but he had quite a reputation, so Captain +Dalton put him on as substitute pitcher.”</p> + +<p>“Substitute pitcher!” gasped Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he’s rather good I believe. He hasn’t +had much practice with us as yet or we’d have +played him part of the time against you fellows +to-day. Why, do you know him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. He used to be on the same town team +with me,” replied Joe.</p> + +<p>“He’ll probably play next week,” went on the +Morningside lad, “and when we meet you fellows +again he’ll probably do what Ted Clay did to-day,” +and he grinned cheerfully—there is nothing +like a cheerful enemy.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Sam Morton here,” murmured Joe, as if unable +to believe it, while his old enemy strode on +without having seen him, and the Morningside +lad, who had given them the information swung +about on his way to the dressing rooms.</p> + +<p>“Say, that’s going some!” exclaimed Joe, as +he and Tom walked on. “Fancy meeting Sam +Morton here. I didn’t hear that he was going +to boarding school.”</p> + +<p>“Neither did I. He must have made up his +mind lately. Probably he began right after the +Easter vacation. I didn’t spot him at the time of +the banner parade.”</p> + +<p>“Me, either. But there was such a mob of +fellows that it was hard to find anyone. But if +he’s here and he makes good, and pitches in some +of the games, and if——”</p> + +<p>“If you get the chance to pitch for the school +nine, you and Sam may fight your old battles over +again,” finished Tom.</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” agreed Joe.</p> + +<p>It was a discouraged, disgruntled and altogether +unhappy crowd of lads that returned to +Excelsior Hall late that afternoon. Despondency +perched like a bird of ill-omen on the big flagstaff; +and a celebration that some of the lads had arranged +for, in case of a victory, did not come off.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + +<p>Tom and Joe were seated in their room, talking +over various matters, including the game of +the day, when there came the usual signal on their +door, indicating that a friend stood without.</p> + +<p>“That’s Teeter,” predicted Tom.</p> + +<p>“Peaches,” was Joe’s guess, but when he swung +open the portal both lads stood there. On their +faces were looks of suppressed excitement.</p> + +<p>“What’s up?” demanded Joe.</p> + +<p>“Lots. Special meeting of the athletic committee +called. In the gym. Come on!” panted +Peaches.</p> + +<p>“We’re going to protest against the way +Hiram manages the team!” added Teeter.</p> + +<p>“Come on!” urged Peaches, recovering his +breath. “We want you with us. There’s a lot +of feeling against Hiram and Luke. They practically +lost the game for us to-day. The revolt is +spreading. It’s a chance for you, Joe. Come on.”</p> + +<p>“There’s going to be a hot time!” predicted +Teeter. “We have permission to hold a meeting. +All the fellows are coming. Get a move on.”</p> + +<p>Joe and Tom grabbed up their caps and hurried +after their chums, Joe with a wildly-beating heart. +Had his chance come?</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a></h2> + +<h3>A HOT MEETING</h3> + + +<p>“The meeting will come to order!”</p> + +<p>Teeter was in the chair, looking over a talking, +shifting, excited crowd of lads gathered in +the school gymnasium. He had assumed the office, +and no one had disputed him.</p> + +<p>“The meeting will come to order!” he cried +again.</p> + +<p>“Order! Order!” begged George Bland and +Peaches. “We can’t do anything like this.”</p> + +<p>“What are we going to do?” asked Tommy +Barton.</p> + +<p>“Try and fix things so we can win ball games,” +answered Tom Davis.</p> + +<p>Joe did not say much. He realized that this +was, in a measure, a meeting to aid him, and he +felt it would be best to keep quiet. His friends +were looking out for his interests.</p> + +<p>“Order! Order!” begged Teeter again, and +after many repetitions, and bangings of his gavel,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +he succeeded in producing some semblance of +quietness.</p> + +<p>“You all know what we’re here for,” went on +Teeter.</p> + +<p>“No, we don’t; tell us!” shouted some one.</p> + +<p>“We’re here in the first place to make a protest +against the way Hiram Shell and Luke Fodick +managed the baseball team to-day,” went on +Teeter, “and then we’ll consider what can be +done to make things better. We ought to have +won against Morningside to-day, and——”</p> + +<p>“That’s the stuff!”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk!”</p> + +<p>“Hit ’em again!”</p> + +<p>These were a few of the cries that greeted +Teeter’s announcement. He was very much in +earnest.</p> + +<p>“This isn’t a regular session of the athletic +committee at all,” he resumed. “It’s a protest +meeting, and it’s going to be sort of free and +easy. Any fellow that wants to can speak his +mind. I take it you all agree with me that we +ought to do something.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right!” came in a chorus.</p> + +<p>“And we ought to protest against Hiram’s +high-handed method. What about that?”</p> + +<p>“That’s right, too,” responded several. Joe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +looked over the crowd. As far as he could see +it was composed in the main of lads who were +only probationary members of the school society—lads +without voting power.</p> + +<p>Neither Hiram nor Luke was present, and +Joe could not see any of their particular crowd. +He was mistaken in thinking that Hiram had no +friends there, however, for no sooner had Teeter +asked the last question than Jake Weston arose +and asked in rather sneering tones:</p> + +<p>“Do you call this giving a fellow a square +deal?”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” inquired Teeter. The +room was quiet enough now.</p> + +<p>“I mean just this,” went on the lad who was +perhaps the closest of all on the nine to Hiram +save Luke. “I mean that Hiram Shell isn’t here +to defend himself, and you’re saying all sorts of +mean things against him.”</p> + +<p>“We intend to have him here—if he’ll come,” +spoke Teeter significantly. “Luke, too. We want +them to hear what we say about them.”</p> + +<p>“You’re trying to disrupt the team!” yelled +Jake, who had lost his temper.</p> + +<p>“I am not! I’m trying to do anything to +better the team. We ought to have won that +game to-day, and you know it.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I know that I played my best!” shouted Jake, +“and if you accuse me of——”</p> + +<p>“Nobody’s accusing you,” put in Peaches.</p> + +<p>Several lads were on their feet, all seeking to +be heard. Teeter was vainly rapping with his +gavel. It looked for a few moments as if there +would be several fights, for lads were shaking +their fists in each other’s faces.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you give Hiram a show?” demanded +Jake. “Let him know this meeting is +being held.”</p> + +<p>“I sent word to him, but he didn’t come,” +called Teeter, above the din.</p> + +<p>“Well, he’s here now!” interrupted a sudden +voice, and Hiram Shell fairly jumped into the +room, followed by Luke and a score of their particular +friends. “I just heard of this snap session, +and I want to know what it’s about. How +dare you fellows hold a meeting of the athletic +committee when I didn’t call it?”</p> + +<p>“Say, you drop that kind of talk!” fairly +yelled Teeter. “This isn’t a meeting of the athletic +committee!”</p> + +<p>“Come on down off that platform!” demanded +the bully striding toward the chairman <i>pro tem</i>. +“What right have you got there?”</p> + +<p>“Just as much right as you have, and I’m going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +to stick! This is just a meeting of the fellows +of Excelsior Hall, and I’ve got just as much right +to preside as you have.”</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was the gavel which Teeter clenched +in his hand, perhaps it was the fearless manner +in which he faced Hiram, or perhaps it was the +way in which Joe, Tom, Peaches and several of +the larger students crowded up around Teeter, +like a bodyguard, that caused Hiram to pause in +his progress toward the chairman.</p> + +<p>Whatever it was, it proved effective and probably +prevented a serious clash, for Hiram was in +the mood to have struck Teeter, who surely would +have retaliated.</p> + +<p>“Well, what’s it all about?” asked the bully, +after a pause. “What do you fellows want, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>“We want the ball team managed differently,” +retorted Teeter.</p> + +<p>“That’s right!” came from a score of ringing +voices.</p> + +<p>Hiram turned a bit pale. It was the first time +he had ever witnessed an organized revolt against +his authority.</p> + +<p>“Aren’t you fellows satisfied with the way I +manage things?” the bully sneered.</p> + +<p>“No, and not with the way Luke Fodick captains<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +the team,” went on the now fully aroused +Teeter. “There’s got to be a change.”</p> + +<p>“Aw, you’re sore because some of your friends +can’t play!” cut in Jake Weston.</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” spoke Teeter. “Everyone +knows we should have won to-day, and what a +miserable exhibition of baseball we gave! It was +rotten, and we want to protest. We’re willing to +let you continue as manager, Hiram, and have +Luke for captain, only we fellows want to have +more of a say in how the team is run.”</p> + +<p>“Why, you fellows haven’t any rights!” cried +Hiram. “A lot of you are only probationary +members, anyhow, and can’t vote.”</p> + +<p>“They don’t need to vote,” declared Teeter. +“It isn’t a question of voting. We’re students +at Excelsior—all of us—and we have a right to +say what we think. We think things ought to be +done differently.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right—we’re with him,” was shouted +in such a volume of energy that it clearly showed +to Hiram that, even though he held the balance +of power in the committee proper, yet he did not +in the whole school, and it was to the whole school +that the team would have to look for support. It +was a crisis in the affairs of Excelsior Hall.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a></h2> + +<h3>THE INITIATION</h3> + + +<p>For a moment after the unexpected support of +Teeter’s ultimatum to Hiram there was a tense +silence. The lads who had come in with the bully—his +supporting army so to speak—remained +grouped around him and Luke. On the other side +stood Teeter, Peaches, Tom, Joe and their friends, +and a number of the better players of the school +nine. Included among them were a number of the +substitutes.</p> + +<p>Hiram Shell looked around him. He must +have been aware that his power might slip very +easily from him now, unless something was done. +It was no time to pursue his usual tactics. He +must temporize, but he made up his mind that +those who had revolted from his authority would +pay dearly for it sooner or later.</p> + +<p>“Well, what do you fellows want?” he fairly +growled.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what we want,” said Teeter firmly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +“In the first place we want this business of +shifting players all about, stopped. A fellow gets +used to playing in one position and he’s best there. +Then you or Luke change him.”</p> + +<p>“Well, hasn’t the captain the right to do +that?” demanded Luke.</p> + +<p>“Sure, yes,” spoke Peaches, “but when you get +a good lad in a good place keep him there.”</p> + +<p>“Is that all?” sneered Hiram.</p> + +<p>“No, we think there ought to be better pitching,” +went on the self-constituted chairman.</p> + +<p>“Ha! I guess that’s where the whole trouble +is!” cried Hiram quickly. “This meeting is for +the benefit of Joe Matson.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing of the sort!” exclaimed Joe quickly. +“I knew nothing about it until Teeter told me. +Of course I’d like to pitch; there’s no use denying +that, but I don’t want any fellow to give way for +me if he’s making good.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the trouble—he isn’t,” put in Teeter.</p> + +<p>Hiram took a quick resolve. He could smooth +matters over now, and later arrange them to suit +himself and Luke. So he said:</p> + +<p>“All right, I admit that we didn’t make a very +good showing to-day. But it was our first game, +and Brown and Akers didn’t do very well in the +box. But don’t be too hasty. Now I’ll tell you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +what I’ll do,” and he acted as though it was a big +favor. “I’ll let you fellows have a voice when I +make changes after this. We’ll do some harder +practice. I’ll make Brown and Akers pitch +better——”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe he can,” murmured Tom.</p> + +<p>“We won’t make any more shifts—right +away,” went on Hiram. “Maybe you fellows +were right. I haven’t given as much time to the +team as I should. But wait—we’ll win the Blue +Banner yet.”</p> + +<p>“That’s all we ask,” said Teeter. “We just +wanted you to know how we felt about it, and if +things are better and our nine can win, we won’t +say another word.”</p> + +<p>“All right, let it go at that,” and Hiram affected +to laugh, but there was not much mirth in it. +“Might as well quit now, I guess. Everybody +out for hard practice next week. I want to see +some better stick-work, and as for pitching—where +are Brown and Akers?”</p> + +<p>“Here!” cried the two boxmen.</p> + +<p>“You fellows will have to brush up a bit on +your speed and curves,” went on the bully manager. +“Isn’t that right, Luke?”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” grunted the captain. There was more +talk, but it was not of the fiery kind and, for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +time, at least, the threatened disruption had +passed. But there was still an undercurrent of +dissatisfaction against Luke and Hiram.</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t see as it did an awful lot of +good,” remarked Tom Davis to Peaches and +Teeter, as they walked out of the gymnasium with +Joe, a little later. “I don’t see that Joe is benefitted.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t expect much,” spoke our hero. “It +was well meant and——”</p> + +<p>“And it did good, too,” interrupted Teeter. +“It’s the first time any one ever talked to Hiram +like a Dutch Uncle, and I guess it sort of jarred +him. He’ll sit up and take notice now, and it +will be for the good of the team.”</p> + +<p>“But where does Joe come in?” asked Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Well, I figure it out this way,” replied Teeter. +“Brown and Akers will try to make good but they +can’t. The fellows will see that we’ve got to +have a new pitcher, and Hiram will have to give +’em one. Then Joe will step in.”</p> + +<p>“There are others as good as I in the school,” +remarked Joe modestly.</p> + +<p>“Well, they haven’t shown themselves if there +are,” was Teeter’s retort. “No, Joe will be +pitching before the season is over, you see if he +isn’t.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> + +<p>The question was discussed pro and con, as +they went to their rooms, and continued after +they got there until a monitor warned them that +though permission had been given to hold a meeting +it did not extend to midnight lunch.</p> + +<p>It was one night, after a hard day on the diamond, +that Joe and Tom, who were studying, +or making a pretense at it, heard the usual knock +on their door.</p> + +<p>“Teeter and Peaches—I wonder what’s up +now?” asked Tom.</p> + +<p>“Let ’em in and they’ll tell us,” suggested Joe, +as his roommate went to the door. It was kept +locked, for often some of the fun-loving students +would come in unannounced to create a “rough-house,” +to the misery of the two chums.</p> + +<p>As the portal swung back, there was revealed to +Joe and Tom several sheet-clad white figures, each +one with a mask of black cloth over his head. The +sight was rather a weird one, and for the moment +Tom was nonplussed.</p> + +<p>“Shut the door,” commanded Joe quickly. +“They’re up to some high jinks!”</p> + +<p>Tom hesitated for a moment. If it was Peaches, +Teeter and their friends, he did not want to shut +them out, but, on the contrary might want to join +the fun. If, on the contrary, it was a hostile crowd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +there was no use getting into trouble. So Tom +hesitated and was lost.</p> + +<p>For a moment later, the throng of white-clad +and unrecognizable figures (because of the masks) +stepped into the room.</p> + +<p>“We have come,” announced one in a voice that +sounded hollow and deep, “to initiate you into +the Mystic and Sacred Order of the Choo-Choo!”</p> + +<p>“Get out, Peaches, I know your voice,” said +Joe, not quite sure whether he did or not.</p> + +<p>“Prepare to join the Mystic and Sacred Order +of the Choo-Choo! Shall he not, comrades?” +demanded a second figure.</p> + +<p>“Toot! Toot! He shall!” was the answer in +a chorus.</p> + +<p>“That’s Teeter all right,” affirmed Tom.</p> + +<p>“Come!” commanded the first figure, advancing +to take hold of Tom’s arm.</p> + +<p>“Shall we go, Joe?” asked his chum.</p> + +<p>Joe thought a minute. There had been rumors +in the school of late, that several initiations had +been held into a newly-formed society. Reports +differed as to what society it was, some lads stating +that they had been made to join one and some +another. But all agreed, though they did not go +into particulars, that the initiations were anything +but pleasant. Joe was as fond of fun as anyone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +but he did not like being mistreated—especially +when it was not by his friends.</p> + +<p>“Don’t go!” he called suddenly to Tom.</p> + +<p>“Then we’ll make you!” said the disguised +voice. “Grab ’em fellows!”</p> + +<p>Instantly there was a commotion in the room. +Joe leaped back to get behind a sofa, but one of +the black-masked figures was too quick for him +and seized him around the neck. Our hero tried to +tear the mask from the face to see who his assailant +was, but other hands clasped his arms +from behind and he was helpless.</p> + +<p>Tom, too, was having his own troubles. He +was beset by two of the unknowns and held in +such a way that he could do nothing. The struggle +though sharp was a quiet one, for the students did +not want to attract the attention of a monitor or +prowling professor.</p> + +<p>“’Tis well,” spoke the lad who was evidently +the leader, when Tom and Joe were held safely, +their hands having been tied behind their backs. +“Away with them to the dungeon deep, and they +will soon be good, faithful and true members of +the Mystic and Sacred Order of the Choo-Choo!”</p> + +<p>Then, realizing that discretion was probably +now the better part of valor, Joe and Tom meekly +followed their captors.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a></h2> + +<h3>“FIRE!”</h3> + + +<p>“Where are you fellows taking us?” demanded +Joe, as they walked softly down the corridor.</p> + +<p>“Toot-Toot!” was all the answer he received.</p> + +<p>“Say, we don’t mind having fun,” added Tom, +“but if you fellows are going to cut up any, we +want to know it.”</p> + +<p>“Toot-Toot!” came again in imitation of a +whistle. It was evident that this was a sort of +signal or watchword among the members of the +Order of Choo-Choo.</p> + +<p>“These aren’t Peaches, Teeter, and our fellows,” +spoke Joe into Tom’s ear as they were +forced to descend a back and seldom used staircase.</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” agreed Tom. “I wonder who +they are?”</p> + +<p>“Some of the seniors, maybe,” suggested the +young pitcher. “I wish I knew where they are +taking us.”</p> + +<p>“The candidates who are about to be initiated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +into the Mystic and Sacred Order of the +Choo-Choo will kindly keep quiet!” came the +quick command from the leader. “Silence is imperative +to have the spell work.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you dry up!” retorted Joe.</p> + +<p>“Silence!” came the command again, emphasized +this time by a dig in the ribs.</p> + +<p>“You quit——” began our hero, but his voice +ended in a grunt, for some one had hit him in the +stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He was +indignant, and had half a mind to make a fight +for it then and there. But he was practically helpless, +and was descending a flight of stairs which +made it dangerous to chance a scuffle. He made up +his mind to fight when the time came.</p> + +<p>“If you fellows——” began Tom.</p> + +<p>“Silence over there!” hissed one of the white-robed +figures. “If they talk any more, Master +of Ceremonies, gag ’em.”</p> + +<p>“Right, Chief Engineer,” was the hollow +answer.</p> + +<p>Tom thought it best to keep quiet. Silently the +little crowd advanced. They halted at the door +of one of the many store-rooms in the basement +of the largest of the school dormitories. One of +the lads opened the portals with a key. It was +as black as pitch beyond.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Enter, timid and shrinking candidates,” commanded +some one. “Enter into the sacred precincts +of the Choo-Choo.”</p> + +<p>“Not much I won’t!” declared Joe. “I can’t +see my hand before my face, and I’m not going +into a dark room, not knowing what is there.”</p> + +<p>“Me either!” declared Tom.</p> + +<p>“It is so ordered,” came the deep voice of the +leader. “Enter or be thrown in!”</p> + +<p>Joe turned, trying in vain to pierce the disguise +of the black mask. He struggled to free +his arms from the rope that bound them, but could +not. He was half-minded to strike out with his +feet, but he was now so surrounded by the initiators +that he could not. Besides, if he did that +he might lose his balance and fall hard. Tom +was in like straits.</p> + +<p>“Forward, march!” came the command.</p> + +<p>“I’m not going in I tell you!” insisted Joe.</p> + +<p>“If he doesn’t go in, shove him,” came the +command.</p> + +<p>Joe, as he felt that resistance was useless, +started forward. It was better to keep his own +footing, if he had to go in the room and not run +the risk of being shoved down.</p> + +<p>Advancing cautiously, followed by Tom, the +young pitcher stepped over the threshold. Almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +instantly he felt cold water spurting up around his +ankles, and he sought to draw back. He did not +want to fall into a deep tank, with his arms bound.</p> + +<p>“Go on! Go on in!” was the command and he +felt himself being shoved from behind. There +was no help for it, but to his relief he found, as +he advanced, that the water did not come higher +than his knees.</p> + +<p>“Great Scott! What are we up against?” asked +Tom.</p> + +<p>“Search me,” responded Joe.</p> + +<p>“Silence! Blindfold ’em!” came a command, +and before they could have prevented it, had they +been able, Joe’s and Tom’s eyes were covered +with big handkerchiefs.</p> + +<p>“Keep on!” was the order again, and the candidates +did, soon stepping out of the water upon +the solid floor.</p> + +<p>“Tie their feet,” was the next order, and this +was done. “Now, candidates,” spoke the leader, +“you have crossed the river of blood and the first +part of your journey is over. But, to be good and +loyal members of the Mystic and Sacred Order +of Choo-Choo, it is necessary that you make a +noise like a locomotive. Go ahead now, puff!”</p> + +<p>For a moment Joe and Tom hesitated and then, +absurd as it was, they entered into the spirit of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +the affair and gave as good an imitation as possible +of a steam locomotive in operation.</p> + +<p>“Very good! Very good,” was the comment. +“Now go up grade,” and the blindfolded candidates +were forced to go up a steep incline of +boards, slipping and sliding back half the time.</p> + +<p>“They are coming on,” commented some one. +“At the next stop they take water. Hose-tender, +get ready!”</p> + +<p>“Hold on! What are you going to do?” demanded +Joe.</p> + +<p>“You’ll see,” was the answer. Joe and Tom +were led to another part of the room. It was +dimly lighted now, as they could see, for a faint +glow came under the handkerchiefs.</p> + +<p>A moment later each of the luckless candidates +felt a cold stream of water strike him full in the +face. They tried to duck, and to turn their heads +away, but the others held them until the upper +part of their bodies were thoroughly soaked.</p> + +<p>“That’s enough for steam,” came the order +from one of the party. “Now to see how they +can carry passengers. Off with their bonds, but +keep the blinders on.”</p> + +<p>This was done.</p> + +<p>“Down on your hands and knees, candidates,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +came the order, and Joe and Tom had nothing for +it but to obey.</p> + +<p>A moment later some one sat on each back +and again came the order:</p> + +<p>“Forward march!”</p> + +<p>Now Joe, while liking fun as well as any lad, +thought there was a limit to it, and to the indignities +of the initiation, especially in a mythical +society which they did not care about joining. +When a heavy lad, therefore, sat down on our +hero’s back Joe made up his mind that matters +had gone far enough.</p> + +<p>“Go ahead! Carry your passenger!” was the +command.</p> + +<p>“Not by a jugful!” cried Joe, and with a +quick motion he stood up, spilling off the lad on +his back. The latter hit the floor with a resounding +whack. The next instant Joe had torn off the +blinding handkerchief, and made a grab for the +lad whom he had upset. He tore off his mask +and there was revealed the scowling face of Hiram +Shell.</p> + +<p>At the same moment Tom had done the same +to his tormentor, discovering Luke Fodick under +the black mask.</p> + +<p>“Oh, so it’s your crowd, is it Hiram?” asked +Joe.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Yes, and by Jove, you’ll suffer for this! Why +aren’t you sports enough to take your initiation as +the others do?”</p> + +<p>“Because we don’t choose to,” replied our hero.</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll make you!” cried Hiram, doubling +up his fists and leaping at Joe. “Come on, Luke, +give ’em what’s coming to ’em!”</p> + +<p>“Two can play at that game,” spoke Joe coolly. +He noted that the room had been roughly fitted +up as a sort of society meeting chamber. At the +entrance was a long, narrow and shallow tank of +water. It was through this that Joe and Tom +had waded.</p> + +<p>“I’ll fix you!” cried Hiram.</p> + +<p>“All right,” agreed Joe easily. “As well here +and now as anywhere, anytime.”</p> + +<p>He threw himself into a position of defense as +Hiram came on. Luke was advancing toward +Tom, while the others, still wearing their masks, +looked on in anticipation.</p> + +<p>There might have been two stiff fights the next +moment had there not suddenly sounded from +without a series of startled cries. Then came the +clanging of bells, and above the riot of noise the +lads heard some one shouting:</p> + +<p>“Fire! Fire! Fire!”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a></h2> + +<h3>A THRILLING RESCUE</h3> + + +<p>“What’s that?” asked half a dozen of the +white-robed lads.</p> + +<p>“Fire, somewhere,” answered Hiram, pausing +in his rush toward Joe.</p> + +<p>“Come on, this can wait,” added one of his +companions. “We’re through with this initiation, +anyhow.”</p> + +<p>“But I’m not through with him,” snapped the +bully with a glance of anger at the young pitcher. +“I’ll settle with him later.”</p> + +<p>“Fire! Fire!”</p> + +<p>Again the cries rang out on the night air.</p> + +<p>“The school must be on fire!” yelled Luke Fodick. +“Come on, fellows!”</p> + +<p>“Fire! Fire!”</p> + +<p>Many voices now took up the cry outside, and +through a partially-curtained window could be seen +the dancing light of flames.</p> + +<p>“Come on!” cried Joe to Tom. “We’ve got +to be in on this, whatever it is!”</p> + +<p>“Surest thing you know,” agreed his chum.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>They rushed from the room, following after +Hiram and Luke. The others straggled out as fast +as they disrobed, for they did not want to be seen +in their regalia by any of the school authorities +who might be on hand after the alarm of fire.</p> + +<p>“I hope it isn’t any of the school buildings!” +exclaimed Joe as he and Tom raced along.</p> + +<p>“That’s right. So do I. Look, you can see +the reflection from here.”</p> + +<p>The boys were opposite a window in the corridor, +and over the roof and spire of the school +chapel could be seen a lurid glare in the sky, but +what was burning could not be made out.</p> + +<p>“It’s the gym!” gasped Tom.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you dare say that!” cried Joe, “and +with the baseball season just starting.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it looks like it anyhow.”</p> + +<p>Together they raced on until they came to a +door that gave egress to the campus. Students +were pouring out from their rooms in all directions, +some eagerly questioning, and others joining +in the cries of “Fire!” No one seemed to +know where the blaze was.</p> + +<p>Professor Rodd came out with his precious tall +hat in one hand and a bundle of books in the +other.</p> + +<p>“Is the school doomed, boys?” he asked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +“How did it start? Have I time to save anything +else? I have some Latin books——”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know where it is, Professor,” answered +Joe. “But it isn’t this building, anyhow.”</p> + +<p>“Good! I’m glad of it. I mean I’m sorry it’s +anywhere. Wait, and I’ll be with you to help +fight the flames.”</p> + +<p>He ran back to his quarters to return quickly +minus his silk hat and the books, and he wore an +old fashioned night-cap.</p> + +<p>“There now, I’m ready,” he announced, and he +ran on as though he had donned a modern smoke +helmet, used by the firemen. The boys laughed, +serious and exciting as the situation was.</p> + +<p>Dr. Rudden saw our two friends hurrying +across the campus together.</p> + +<p>“Why, boys!” cried the coach and athletic director. +“You’re all wet! How did it happen? +Have you been playing the hose on the fire? Did +it burst?”</p> + +<p>“No, we haven’t been to the blaze yet,” answered +Joe. “We had——”</p> + +<p>“A sort of accident,” finished Tom, as his chum +hesitated for the right explanation. Then they +avoided further conversation by racing toward the +blaze, the light of which was becoming every minute +more glaring.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> + +<p>A stream of students and teachers was now hurrying +across the campus, heading for the path +around the chapel, which building hid the fire from +sight. As Tom and Joe turned the corner they +saw at a glance what was burning.</p> + +<p>It was an old disused factory about half a mile +from the school, a building pretty much in ruins +and of little value save as a sleeping place for +tramps. Several times in the past there had been +slight fires there but they had been quickly extinguished, +though many said it would have been +as well to let the old structure burn down.</p> + +<p>This time it seemed as if this would happen. +The factory was of wood, and there had been no +rain recently, so it was quite dry, and there was a +brisk wind to fan the flames.</p> + +<p>“I guess it’s a goner,” panted Tom.</p> + +<p>“Looks that way,” agreed his chum.</p> + +<p>“Here comes the fire department,” went on the +other, as they heard the clanging of a bell down +the road. A little later they could see, by the +glare of the fire, a crowd of village men and boys +dragging, by the long rope attached to it, a combined +chemical engine, and hook and ladder vehicle. +It was a new acquisition in the town of +Cedarhurst, and the citizens were very proud of +it, though they had no horses to pull it. But everyone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +who could do so grabbed hold of the long +rope.</p> + +<p>“They’re making good time,” commented Joe.</p> + +<p>“But they might as well save themselves. The +old factory is better burned than standing. Guess +some more tramps went in there.”</p> + +<p>“Then they’d better be getting out by now,” +observed the young pitcher, “for it must be pretty +hot.”</p> + +<p>The lads ran on, and soon found themselves +close to the burning structure. The heat of the +flames could be felt, and Tom and Joe moved +back into the crowd that had gathered. Up clattered +the fire apparatus, and there was the usual +excitement, with everyone giving orders, and telling +how it ought to be done.</p> + +<p>Finally a chemical stream was turned on, the +whitish foaming mixture of bicarbonate of soda, +sulphuric acid and water spurting upon the flames. +There was a hiss, and the part of the fire that was +sprayed quickly died out.</p> + +<p>But it was evident that several chemical streams +would be needed if the fire was to be completely +extinguished, whereas two lines of hose were all +that were available. In fact nothing but a smothering +deluge of water would have been effective, +and this was not obtainable.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> + +<p>“They’ll never get that fire out!” cried a man +in the crowd. “Why don’t you let it burn, +Chief?”</p> + +<p>“Because we’re here to put out fires. I’m going +to——”</p> + +<p>But what the chief was going to do he never +said, for at that moment, above the crackling of +the fire and the shouts of the men and boys, there +arose an agonized shout.</p> + +<p>“Help! Help! Save me!”</p> + +<p>All eyes turned instinctively upward, and there, +perched on the ledge of what had once been the +clock tower of the factory, high above the roaring, +crackling flames, stood a man, wildly waving his +arms and crying:</p> + +<p>“Help! Help! Save me!”</p> + +<p>“Look! A man! He’ll be burned to death!” +yelled a score of persons as they saw the danger.</p> + +<p>“That’s about right, unless he gets down pretty +soon,” shouted Tom into Joe’s ear. “Why doesn’t +he go down?”</p> + +<p>“Probably because the stairs are burned away,” +was Joe’s shouted answer—everyone was shouting, +partly to make themselves heard and partly +because of the excitement, which was contagious.</p> + +<p>“Help! Help!” cried the man again. He gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +one look below him and crowded closer to the +outer edge of the tower.</p> + +<p>“Look out! Don’t jump!” someone cried.</p> + +<p>“We’ll save you!” shouted the chief. “Get +the ladder, boys! Lively now!”</p> + +<p>Scores of willing ones raced to the wagon and +began pulling out the ladders. They were the extension +kind, and could be made quite long. Several +men ran with one toward the building.</p> + +<p>“Not that side! The flames are too hot! You +can’t raise it there!” cried the chief. “Try +around back!”</p> + +<p>The men obeyed but a moment later there came +a disappointing shout:</p> + +<p>“Too short! The ladder’s too short! Get a +longer one!”</p> + +<p>“That’s the longest we’ve got!” answered the +chief.</p> + +<p>“Then splice two together!” urged some one, +but the suggestion could hardly have been carried +out with safety. No one knew what to do. The +flames were mounting higher and higher, bursting +out on all sides now, so that in a few moments, +even had there been a ladder long enough to reach +to the man, it could not have been raised against +the building.</p> + +<p>“Help! Help!” continued to call the seemingly-doomed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +one. He moved still nearer to the edge +of the tower.</p> + +<p>“Don’t jump! Don’t!” yelled the crowd. +“You’ll be killed!”</p> + +<p>“He might just as well be killed by the fall as +burned to death,” remarked one man grimly. “In +fact I’d prefer it.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t someone do something?” begged a +woman hysterically.</p> + +<p>The man held out his hands appealingly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, if we only had an airship, we could rescue +him!” murmured Tom.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” exclaimed Joe. “I have an idea. +If I could only get a rope up to him he could slide +down it, if we held the outer end away from the +fire—a slanting cable you know.”</p> + +<p>“That’s it!” yelled his chum.</p> + +<p>“How are you going to get a rope up to him?” +asked Luke Fodick, who was standing beside our +hero. “No one could throw a rope up there.”</p> + +<p>“No, perhaps not a rope,” admitted Joe, “but +if I could throw a string we could tie the rope to +the string and he could haul it up and fasten it.”</p> + +<p>“But you can’t even throw a string up there,” +insisted Luke.</p> + +<p>“Of course not!” added Hiram, who had +joined his crony. “Nobody could.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Yes they can—I can!” cried Joe. “I’ll throw +up this ball of cord. It will unwind on the way +up if I keep hold of one end of it,” and he pulled +from his pocket a ball of light but strong cord. +Joe used it to wind around split bats. “I’m going +to throw this,” cried the young pitcher. “Hey +there!” he yelled to the man on the tower. “Catch +this as it comes, and pull up the rope we’re going +to fasten on!”</p> + +<p>The man waved his hands helplessly. He could +not hear.</p> + +<p>“Where you going to get the rope?” asked +Tom.</p> + +<p>“Off the fire apparatus, of course. It’s long +and strong. Tom, you go get the rope off; I’ve +got to make the man hear and understand before +I can throw the cord.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the stuff! The rope from the engine!” +cried the man near Joe. “That’s the idea, young +fellow!”</p> + +<p>Accompanied by Tom, the man raced to the +engine. He quickly explained what the plan of +rescue was, and others aided in taking from the +reel the long rope by which the apparatus was +pulled. Once more Joe shouted his instructions, +while the fire raged and crackled and the crowd +yelled.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Quiet! Quiet!” begged Joe. “I’ve got to +make him hear!”</p> + +<p>“Make a megaphone—here’s a newspaper,” +suggested a man. He quickly rolled it into a cone, +tore off the small end to make a mouthpiece and +Joe had an improvised megaphone. Through it +he begged the crowd to keep silent, and at last +they heard and understood.</p> + +<p>“I’m going to throw you a ball of cord!” +called Joe through the paper cone to the man on +the tower. “Catch it, and when I yell again, pull +up the rope. Fasten it to the tower and we’ll +hold the ground end out and away from the flames. +Then slide down.”</p> + +<p>The man waved his hands to show that he understood. +Then Joe got ready to throw up the +cord.</p> + +<p>“He can’t do it! He’ll never be able to get +that ball up to the man. It will fall short or go +into the flames,” said Luke Fodick.</p> + +<p>“He can’t, eh?” asked Tom, who came back, +helping to pull the long rope. “You don’t know +how Joe Matson can throw. Just watch him.”</p> + +<p>And, amid a silence that was painfully tense, +the young pitcher got ready to deliver a ball on +which more depended than on any other he had +ever thrown in all his life.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</a></h2> + +<h3>THE WARNING</h3> + + +<p>Joe hesitated a moment. Everything would +depend on his one throw, because there was no +chance to get another ball of cord, and if this one +went wide it would fall into the fire and be rendered +useless.</p> + +<p>The fire was increasing, for all the chemicals in +the tank on the wagon had been used, and no fresh +supply was available. Below the tower on which +the man stood, the flames raged and crackled. +Even the tower itself was ablaze a little and at +times the smoke hid the man from view momentarily.</p> + +<p>“I’ll have to wait until it clears,” murmured the +young pitcher, when, just as he got ready to +throw, a swirl of vapor arose.</p> + +<p>“You can’t wait much longer,” said Tom, in an +ominously quiet voice.</p> + +<p>“I know it,” agreed Joe desperately, and it +was but too evident. The tower itself, weakened +by the fire, would soon collapse, and would carry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +the man down with it into the seething fire below.</p> + +<p>“Throw! Throw!” urged several in the throng.</p> + +<p>Joe handed the loose end of the cord to Tom. +He wanted to give all his attention to throwing the +ball. He poised himself as if he was in the pitching +box. It was like a situation in a game when +his side needed to retire the other in order to win, +as when two men were out, three on bases and the +man at bat had two strikes and three balls. All +depended on one throw.</p> + +<p>With a quick motion Joe drew back his arm. +There was an intaking of breath on the part of +the crowd that could be heard even above the +crackling of the flames. All eyes were centered on +the young pitcher.</p> + +<p>“He’ll never do it,” murmured Hiram Shell.</p> + +<p>“If he does he’s a better pitcher than I’ll ever +be,” admitted Frank Brown.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Joe threw. <a href="#image04">The white ball was plainly +visible as it sailed through the air</a>, unwinding as +it mounted upward. On and on it went, Joe, no +less than every one in the crowd, watching it with +eager eyes. And as for the man on the tower +he eagerly stretched out his hands to catch the +ball of cord, on which his life now depended.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 376px;"> +<a name="image04" id="image04"><img src="images/image04.jpg" width="376" height="600" alt="THE WHITE BALL WAS PLAINLY VISIBLE AS IT SAILED THROUGH THE AIR." title="THE WHITE BALL WAS PLAINLY VISIBLE AS IT SAILED THROUGH THE AIR." /></a> +<br /><span class="caption"><a href="#Page_161">THE WHITE BALL WAS PLAINLY VISIBLE AS IT SAILED THROUGH THE AIR.</a></span> +</div> + +<p>Straight and true it went, as swift and as direct<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +a ball as Baseball Joe had ever delivered. Straight +and true—on and on and then——</p> + +<p>Into the hands of the anxiously waiting man +went the ball of cord. Eagerly he clutched it, +while the crowd set up a great cheer.</p> + +<p>“That’s the stuff!” yelled a man in Joe’s ear. +“You sure are one good pitcher, my boy!”</p> + +<p>“Never mind about that now,” said the practical +Joe. “Fasten on the rope. Quick!”</p> + +<p>Willing hands did this, and Joe looked to see +if the knot would not slip. He seemed to have +assumed charge of the rescue operations.</p> + +<p>“Haul up!” he yelled to the man through the +newspaper megaphone. “Haul up the rope and +make it fast. Then, when I give the signal, slide +down.”</p> + +<p>The man waved his hands to show that he understood, +and the next moment he began pulling +on the cord. The rope followed. Quickly it uncoiled +from where the strands had been piled in +readiness for just this. Up and up the man on +the tower pulled it until he held the end of the +heavy rope in his hands.</p> + +<p>There now extended from the tower to the +ground a slanting pathway of rope, such as is sometimes +seen leading down into a stone quarry. It +was high enough above the flames to enable a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +man to swing himself along above them, though +doubtless he would have to pass over a zone of +fierce heat.</p> + +<p>“All ready! Come on down!” yelled Joe, and +the man on the tower lost no time in obeying.</p> + +<p>He let go the rope as his feet touched the earth +and then with a groan he collapsed. The crowd +closed in around him, and two minutes later the +tower, with a crash, toppled into the midst of the +seething furnace of fire. The rescue had been +made none too soon.</p> + +<p>“Don’t crowd around him so!” shouted Joe, +hurrying over to where the man lay.</p> + +<p>He pushed his way into the throng, followed +by Tom, and the two lads actually forced the men +and boys away from the man, who had evidently +fainted. Joe whipped off his coat and made a pillow +for the sufferer’s head.</p> + +<p>As he bent over him, the man’s face was illuminated +by the glare from the burning factory, +and our hero started back in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Isaac Benjamin!” he exclaimed, as he recognized +the former manager of the Royal Harvester +works where Mr. Matson had been employed. +Isaac Benjamin, the man who, with Mr. Rufus +Holdney, had conspired to ruin Joe’s father by +getting his patents away from him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Isaac Benjamin!” said Joe again.</p> + +<p>Mr. Benjamin opened his eyes. Into them +came the light of recognition as he gazed into +Joe’s face. He struggled to a sitting position.</p> + +<p>“Joe—Joe Matson!” he murmured. “I—I +hope your father will forgive me. I—I——”</p> + +<p>“There, don’t think of that now,” said Joe +gently. “Are you hurt?”</p> + +<p>“No—nothing of any consequence. I’m not +even burned, thanks to you. I climbed up into the +tower when I found the place on fire. I—I—Joe, +can you ever forgive me for trying to ruin your +father?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of course. But don’t talk of that now,” +Joe said, while the crowd looked on and wondered +at the man and boy knowing each other—wondered +at their strange talk.</p> + +<p>“I—I must talk of that now—more—more +danger threatens your father, Joe.”</p> + +<p>Joe thought perhaps the man might be in a +delirium of fright, and he decided it would be best +to humor him.</p> + +<p>“That’s all right,” he said soothingly. “You’ll +be taken care of. We’ve sent for a doctor. How +did you come to be in the old factory?”</p> + +<p>“I—I was sleeping there, Joe.” Mr. Benjamin’s +tones did not indicate a raving mind.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Sleeping there?” There was surprise in the +boy’s voice.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Joe, I’m down and out. I’ve lost all +my money, my friends have gone back on me—though +it’s my own fault—I have lost my home—my +position—everything. I’m an outcast—a +tramp—that’s why I was sleeping there. There +were some other tramps. They were smoking—I +guess that’s how the fire started. They got away +but I couldn’t.”</p> + +<p>The man’s voice was excited now, and Joe +tried to calm him. But Mr. Benjamin continued.</p> + +<p>“Wait, Joe, I have something to tell you—something +important—a warning to give you. If +we—can we talk in private?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, later, when you are stronger,” answered +the lad soothingly.</p> + +<p>“Then it may be too late,” went on Mr. Benjamin. +“I am strong enough now. It was just a +passing faintness. I—I am weak—haven’t had +much to eat—I’m hungry. But no matter. Here, +come over here, I’ll tell you.”</p> + +<p>He struggled to his feet with Joe’s aid and led +the lad aside from the crowd, which parted to +make way for them.</p> + +<p>“I’m down and out, Joe. Money and friends +all gone.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What about Mr. Holdney?”</p> + +<p>“He too, has deserted me—turned against me, +though I helped him in many schemes. I’m nothing +but a tramp now, Joe.”</p> + +<p>The young pitcher looked at the wreck of the +man before him. Truly he was “down and out.” +His once fine and well-dressed appearance had +given place to a slouchy attire.</p> + +<p>“But I must tell you, Joe. Your father’s patent +rights are again in danger. Rufus Holdney is +going to try to get some valuable papers and +models away from him. That’s what he and I +quarreled over. I’d do anything to spoil his plans, +after he has thrown me off as he has. I left him, +and since then I have had only bad luck. I don’t +know how I came to come here. I didn’t know +you were here. But warn your father, Joe, to +look well after his new patents. Warn him before +it is too late.”</p> + +<p>“I will,” promised Joe. “I will. Thank you +for telling me. Now we must look after you.” +And indeed it was high time, for, as the young +pitcher spoke Mr. Benjamin tottered and would +have fallen had not our hero caught him.</p> + +<p>“Quick, get a doctor!” cried Joe, as the crowd +surged up again around the unfortunate man, who +had fainted.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</a></h2> + +<h3>BAD NEWS</h3> + + +<p>Attention was divided, on the part of the +crowd, between the man who had been rescued, +and the fire. The old factory was now burning +fiercely and it was useless to try to save the structure. +In fact, nearly everyone was glad that it +had been destroyed, for it would harbor no more +tramps. So the man who had been so thrillingly +rescued was the greater attraction.</p> + +<p>Fortunately there was a doctor in the throng, +and he gave Mr. Benjamin some stimulants which +quickly brought him out of his faint. Then a +carriage was secured, and the man was taken to +the village hotel, Joe agreeing to be responsible +for his board. Though Mr. Benjamin had +treated Mr. Matson most unjustly, and had tried +to ruin him, yet the son thought he could do no +less than to give him some aid, especially after +the warning.</p> + +<p>“Well, I guess it’s all over but the shouting,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +as they say at the baseball games,” remarked Tom +to Joe. “Let’s get home. I’m cold,” for they had +both been drenched over the upper part of their +bodies by the initiation, and the night wind was +cold, in spite of the fact that Spring was well advanced.</p> + +<p>“So am I,” admitted Joe, as he watched the +carriage containing Mr. Benjamin drive off. “I’d +like some good hot lemonade.”</p> + +<p>The fire now held little attraction for our +friends and they hastened back to the dormitory, +Joe explaining on the way how he had unexpectedly +rescued a former enemy of his father’s.</p> + +<p>“And aren’t you going to send some word +home about that warning he gave you?” asked +Tom, as Joe finished. “That Holdney scoundrel +may be working his scheme now.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, sure. I’m going to write to dad as +soon as we get back to our room. Sure I’m going +to warn him. I’m mighty sorry for Mr. Benjamin. +He’s a smart man, but he went wrong, and +now he’s down and out, as he says. But he did me +a good service.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t even things up!” spoke Teeter. +“He surely would have been a gone one but for +you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, some one else might have thought of that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +way of getting him down if I hadn’t,” replied Joe +modestly. “I remember a story I read in one of +the books I had when I was a kid. A fellow was +on a high chimney, and a rope he had used to +haul himself up slipped down. A big crowd +gathered and no one knew how to help him. His +wife came to bring his dinner and she got onto +a scheme right away.</p> + +<p>“‘Hey, John!’ she called ‘unravel your sock. +Begin at the toe!’ You see he had on knitted socks. +Well, he unravelled one, got a nice long piece of +yarn and lowered it to the ground. He tied on +his knife, or something for a weight. Then they +fastened a cord to the yarn, and a rope to the +cord, he pulled the rope up and got down off the +chimney.”</p> + +<p>“Your process, only reversed,” commented +Tom. “I say fellows,” he added, “let’s run and +get warmed up. I’m shivering.”</p> + +<p>“It was warm enough back there at the fire,” +said Teeter, as he looked to where the blaze was +now dying out for lack of material on which to +feed.</p> + +<p>“Beastly mean of Hiram and Luke,” commented +Peaches. “They’re getting scared I guess. I +hope we get ’em out of the nine before the season’s +over.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> + +<p>Joe and Tom entertained their friends with +crackers and hot lemonade, and none of the professors +or monitors annoyed them with attentions. +They must have known of it, when Peaches went +to get the hot water in the dormitory kitchen, but +it is something to have a hero in a school, and Joe +was certainly the hero of the night.</p> + +<p>The two lads, who had been thoroughly soaked, +stripped and took a good rub down, and this, with +the hot lemonade, set them into a warm glow. +Then they sat about and talked and talked until +nearly midnight.</p> + +<p>Joe wrote a long letter to his father explaining +all the circumstances and warned him to be on the +lookout. One of the janitors who had to arise +early to attend to his duties promised to see that +the missive got off on the first morning mail.</p> + +<p>“There, now, I guess we’ll go to bed,” announced +Joe.</p> + +<p>There was much subdued excitement in chapel +the next morning, and Dr. Fillmore made a reference +to the events of the night before.</p> + +<p>“I am very proud of the way you young gentlemen +behaved at the fire,” he said. “It was an +exciting occasion, and yet you held yourselves well +within bounds. We have reason to be very proud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +of one of our number who distinguished himself, +and——”</p> + +<p>“Three cheers for Joe Matson!” yelled +Peaches, and they were given heartily—something +that had never before happened in chapel. Dr. +Fillmore looked surprised, and Professor Rodd +was evidently pained, but Dr. Rudden was observed +to join in the ovation, over which Joe +blushed painfully.</p> + +<p>Joe caught a cold from his wetting and exposure. +It was nothing serious, but the school physician +thought he had better stay in bed for a +couple of days, and, much against his will the +young pitcher did so.</p> + +<p>“How is baseball practice going on?” he asked +Tom after the first day. “I wish I could get out +and watch it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s going pretty good. We scrubs have +a hard job holding the school nine down when +you’re not there to pitch. There’s a game with +Woodside Hall to-morrow, and I guess we’ll +win.”</p> + +<p>Excelsior Hall did win that contest, but not by +as big a score as they should have done. It was +the old story of Hiram and Luke not managing +things right, and having weak pitchers. Still it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +was a victory, and served to elate the bully and +his crony.</p> + +<p>It was on the third day of Joe’s imprisonment +in his room, and his cold was much better. He +had heard that Mr. Benjamin had recovered and +left the hotel; no one knew for what place.</p> + +<p>He sent Joe a note of thanks, however, and it +came in with some mail from home. Joe opened +the home letters first. There was one from his +father, enclosed in one from his mother and +Clara.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Dear Joe,” wrote Mr. Matson. “I got your +warning, but it was too late. Why didn’t you +telegraph me? The night before your letter got +here some valuable papers and models were stolen +from my new shop. I have no doubt but that +Holdney did it—he or some of his tools. It will +cripple me badly, but I may be able to pull +through. I appreciate what Benjamin did for +us, and it was mighty smart of you to save him +that way. But why didn’t you telegraph me about +the danger to my models?”</p></div> + +<p>“That’s it!” exclaimed Joe bitterly to himself. +“What a chump I was. Why didn’t I +telegraph dad, and then it would have been in +time. Why didn’t I?”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII</a></h2> + +<h3>BITTER DEFEAT</h3> + + +<p>Joe’s first act, after receiving the bad news +from home, was to sit down and write his father +a letter full of vain regrets, of self-accusation, upbraiding +himself for having been so stupid as not +to have thought of telegraphing. He hastened +to post this, going out himself though barely over +his cold.</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to take any more chances,” he +remarked to Tom. “Maybe that other letter +wasn’t mailed by the janitor, or it would have +gotten to dad in time.”</p> + +<p>“Hardly,” remarked his chum. “Your father +says the things were taken the night before your +letter arrived, so you would have had to write +the day before to have done any good. Only a +telegram would have been of any use.”</p> + +<p>“I guess so,” admitted Joe sorrowfully. “I’m +a chump!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t worry any more,” advised his +friend. “Let’s get at some baseball practice. +The school has two games this week.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Who with?” asked Joe.</p> + +<p>“Woodside Hall and the Lakeview Preps. We +ought to win ’em both. They need you back on +the scrub. The first nine has had it too easy.”</p> + +<p>“And I’ll be glad to get back,” replied the +young pitcher earnestly. “It seems as if I hadn’t +had a ball in my hands for a month.”</p> + +<p>Joe mailed his letter and then, as the day was +just right to go out on the diamond, he and Tom +hastened there, finding plenty of lads awaiting +them. A five-inning game between the scrub and +school teams was soon arranged.</p> + +<p>“Now boys, go in and clean ’em up!” exclaimed +Luke, as his men went to bat, allowing +the scrub the advantage of being last up. This +was done to make the first team strive exceptionally +hard to pile up runs early in the practice.</p> + +<p>“Don’t any of you fan out,” warned Hiram. +“I’m watching you.”</p> + +<p>“And so am I,” added Dr. Rudden, the coach, +as he strolled up. “You first team lads want to +look to your laurels. You have plenty of games +to play before the finals to decide the possession +of the Blue Banner, but remember that every +league game counts. Your percentage is rather +low for the start of the season.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was putting it mildly. The percentage of +Excelsior Hall was exceedingly low.</p> + +<p>“Beat the scrub!” advised the coach-teacher.</p> + +<p>“They can’t do it with Joe in the box!” declared +Tom; and Luke and Hiram sneered audibly. +Their feeling against our two heroes had not +improved since the event of the initiation.</p> + +<p>The scrub nine was not noted for its heavy +hitting, but in this practice game they outdid +themselves, and when they came up for their first +attempt they pulled down the lead of four runs +which the school nine had, to one. There was +an ominous look on the faces of Luke and Hiram +as the first team went to bat for the second time.</p> + +<p>“Make ’em look like a plugged nickel,” advised +Tom to his pitching chum. “The worse +you make ’em take a beating the more it will show +against Hiram and Luke. We want to get ’em +out of the game.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” assented Joe, and then he “tightened +up,” in his pitching, with the result that a +goose egg went up in the second frame of the first +team.</p> + +<p>Even Dr. Rudden looked grave over this. If +the school nine could not put up a better game +against their own scrub, all of whose tricks and +mannerisms they knew, what could they do against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +the two regular nines with whom they were to +cross bats during the week? When the scrubs got +another run, Joe knocking a three bagger, and +coming home on Tommy Barton’s sacrifice, there +was even a graver look on the face of the coach. +As for Luke and Hiram, they held a consultation.</p> + +<p>“We’ll have to make a shift somewhere,” declared +Hiram.</p> + +<p>“I’ll just let Akers go in the box in place of +Frank Brown,” decided the captain.</p> + +<p>“No, that’s not enough,” insisted the manager. +“You don’t know how to play your own men.”</p> + +<p>“I know as much as you do about it!” fired +back Luke. Of late the bully and his crony +had not agreed overwell.</p> + +<p>“No, you don’t!” reaffirmed Hiram. “I tell +you what you ought to do. You ought to get rid +of Peaches, Teeter and George Bland.”</p> + +<p>“Why, they’re three of the best players on the +nine.”</p> + +<p>“No, they’re not, and besides they’re too +friendly with Joe Matson and Sister Davis. They +don’t half play. They make errors on purpose, +just to make the school team have a bad reputation.”</p> + +<p>“Why should they do that?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Don’t you understand, you chump? They +want to force you and me out. That’s their game. +They’re sore about that meeting, and Matson and +Davis are sore about lots of things. Peaches and +the other two think if they get us out there’ll be +a chance for Joe to pitch.”</p> + +<p>“So that’s their game, is it?” exclaimed Luke. +“Well, I’ll put a stop to it. I’ll make subs of +Peaches, Bland and Teeter, and put in some other +players. They can’t come it over me that way.”</p> + +<p>“Play ball!” called the umpire, for the talk +between the captain and manager was delaying +the game.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we’ll play all right,” snapped Luke, and +he knew that he and his nine had to, for the score +was now tie. “Peaches, Teeter, Bland, you can +sit on the bench a while!” went on Luke. “Wilson, +Natch and Gonzales, you’ll take their places.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that for?” asked the innocent and +unoffending Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Have we played so rotten?” Teeter wanted +to know.</p> + +<p>“I made the changes because I wanted to,” +snapped Luke. “Go sit down with the other +subs, and we’ll see if we can’t play a decent +game.”</p> + +<p>Perhaps Peaches and his chums may have understood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +the reason for Luke’s act, but if they +did, they did not say so. The game went on with +the three new players, and the result may be imagined. +The scrub continued to get ahead, and +the school nine could not catch up because Joe +was pitching in great form, and striking out man +after man, though he was hit occasionally.</p> + +<p>“This is worse than ever,” growled Hiram, +when another inning passed and the scrub was +five runs ahead. “Change back again, Luke.”</p> + +<p>“Say, they’ll think I’m crazy.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t help it. We’ll be worse than crazy if +we don’t win this little measly game. And think +what will happen Friday and Saturday. Change +back.”</p> + +<p>So Peaches, Teeter and George were called +from the bench again, and they played desperately. +There was a general tightening all along +the line, and the school nine began to see victory +ahead. Joe got a little wild occasionally, principally +because he was out of practice, but the best +the school nine could do was to tie the score in +the fifth inning, and it had to go to seven before +they could win, though they had planned to play +only five. The school nine won by a margin of +one.</p> + +<p>“That’s too close for comfort, boys,” said the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +coach. “Why didn’t you have a little mercy, +Joe?” he asked of the young scrub pitcher.</p> + +<p>“I will next time—maybe,” was the laughing +answer. Luke and Hiram scowled at him as +they passed. They would have witnessed with +pleasure his withdrawal from the school. But +Joe was going to stick.</p> + +<p>“What are we going to do?” asked Luke of +Hiram as they walked on.</p> + +<p>“About what?”</p> + +<p>“The nine. We’ve just <i>got</i> to win these two +games.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ll have to do some more shifting, I +guess, and Brown and Akers have got to tighten +up on their pitching. We’ll try some more shifting.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you make me sick!” exclaimed the captain. +“Always changing. What good does that +do?”</p> + +<p>“Say, I’m manager of this nine!” declared the +bully, “and if you don’t like the way I run things, +you know what you can do.”</p> + +<p>Luke subsided after that. He was afraid of +Hiram, and he wanted to remain as captain. The +two discussed various plans, but could come to +no decision.</p> + +<p>The inevitable happened. In the game with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +Woodside the Excelsiors managed to get a few +runs in the early innings, but their opponents did +likewise, because the Hall pitcher could not hold +the batters in check. Then Woodside sent in another +pitcher, better than the first, and the Excelsiors +got only a few scattering hits, while, after +shifting from Brown to Akers, Luke’s nine did +even worse, for Akers was pounded out of the +box. The score was fifteen to six in favor of +Woodside when the final inning ended, and the +Excelsiors filed off the diamond in gloomy mood.</p> + +<p>“Well, it couldn’t have been much worse,” +growled Luke to the manager.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it was pretty bad,” admitted Hiram, “but +we’ll whitewash the Preps.”</p> + +<p>The Excelsior Hall nine journeyed to the Lakeview +school full of hope, for the lads there did +not have a very good reputation as hitters, and +their pitcher was not out of the ordinary. But +it was the same old story—mismanagement, and +a captain of the Excelsiors who didn’t dare speak +his own mind.</p> + +<p>If Luke had been allowed to run the team to +suit himself he might have been able to do something +with it, but Hiram insisted on having his +way.</p> + +<p>The result can be imagined. Instead of beating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +the Lakeview boys by a large score, as they +had done the previous year, Excelsior was beaten, +nine to seven.</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s not as bad as the last game,” was +all the consolation Hiram could find.</p> + +<p>“Say, don’t talk to me!” snapped Luke. +“Something’s got to be done!”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” put in Peaches, who came up +just then. “Something has got to be done, Hiram +Shell, and right away, too.”</p> + +<p>He looked the bully squarely in the face. Behind +Peaches came Teeter, George Bland and +several of the subs.</p> + +<p>“What—what do you mean?” stammered +Hiram.</p> + +<p>“I mean that it’s either you or us,” went on +Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Either you get out as manager or we get out +as players,” added Teeter. “We’re tired of playing +on a nine that can’t win a game. We can +play ball, and we know it. But not with you, +Hiram. What’s it going to be—you or us?”</p> + +<p>“Say!” burst out the bully. “I’ll have you +know that——”</p> + +<p>A hand was placed on his shoulder. He wheeled +about to confront Dr. Rudden.</p> + +<p>“I think something <i>must</i> be done,” said the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +coach quietly. “Call a meeting of the Athletic +Committee, Shell.”</p> + +<p>“What for?” asked the bully.</p> + +<p>“To discuss the situation. There has got to +be a change if Excelsior Hall is to have a chance +for the Blue Banner. If you don’t call the meeting, +Shell, I will.”</p> + +<p>It was perhaps the best thing that could have +happened, and to save friction among the students, +many of whom were still for the manager, +Hiram knew he had to give in to Dr. Rudden.</p> + +<p>“All right,” he growled. “The meeting will +take place to-night.”</p> + +<p>Quickly the word went around through the +precincts of Excelsior Hall.</p> + +<p>“There’s going to be another hot meeting.”</p> + +<p>“Hiram’s on his last legs.”</p> + +<p>“His game is up now.”</p> + +<p>“This means that Joe Matson will pitch, sure, +and we’ll win some games now.”</p> + +<p>“If Hiram goes, Luke will, too, and there’ll +be a new captain.”</p> + +<p>These were only a few of the comments and +predictions made by the players and other students +as they got ready to attend the session.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII</a></h2> + +<h3>HIRAM IS OUT</h3> + + +<p>There was an ominous silence over the +gathering in the gymnasium. It was entirely different +from the former meeting which started in +such a hub-bub, and which created such a stir. +This time it meant “business,” as Peaches said.</p> + +<p>Hiram called the session, but refused to preside. +He wanted to be able to say what he thought +from the floor, and from the manner in which he +and Luke and one or two of their friends conferred +before the session opened, it was evident +that Hiram was going to make a fight to maintain +his prestige.</p> + +<p>“Come to order, young gentlemen,” suggested +Dr. Rudden, when the gymnasium was well filled. +It seemed as if every lad in Excelsior Hall was +there. “You know what we are here for——”</p> + +<p>“To elect a new manager and captain!” +shouted someone.</p> + +<p>“Stop!” commanded the coach, banging his +gavel.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Who said that?” cried Hiram, springing to +his feet. “If I find out——”</p> + +<p>“Silence!” commanded the chairman, while +Luke pulled his crony to his seat.</p> + +<p>“This meeting will be conducted in a gentlemanly +manner, or not at all,” went on the professor +quietly; but the boys knew what he meant. +“We are here to discuss the baseball situation, +and try to decide on some plan for bettering the +team. I will hear suggestions.”</p> + +<p>“I just want to say one thing,” began Hiram. +“I have managed this team for three seasons, +and——”</p> + +<p>“Mis-managed it,” murmured someone.</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t we get the Blue Banner?” asked +another voice.</p> + +<p>“Young gentlemen, you will have to keep from +making side remarks, and interrupting the speakers,” +said Dr. Rudden. “Go on, Shell.”</p> + +<p>“I never had any kicking on my management +before,” continued Hiram, glaring at those around +him. “I can manage it all right now, and it’s +only some soreheads——”</p> + +<p>“Rather unparliamentary language,” the chairman +warned him.</p> + +<p>“If we had a few good players we could win<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +every game,” went on the bully. “But the season +is young yet, and——”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think that is a valid excuse,” said the +professor. “You had your choice of the whole +school in picking the nine, so it is the fault of +yourself and the captain if you haven’t a good +team. As for the earliness of the season, the +boys have had plenty of practice and they ought +to have struck their gait before this. I’m afraid +something else is to blame.”</p> + +<p>“We need better pitchers for one thing!” +called someone.</p> + +<p>“That’s right!” yelled a double score of voices, +and Dr. Rudden, seeing the sway of sentiment, +did not object.</p> + +<p>“We’ve got two good pitchers!” fairly yelled +Hiram. “I know what this all means—that Joe +Matson and his crowd——”</p> + +<p>“That will do,” the chairman warned him.</p> + +<p>“It’s true!” exclaimed Frank Brown, jumping +to his feet. “I’m not a good pitcher, and I don’t +mind admitting it. I can’t hold the other fellows +down enough. If I could, we would have won +these last two games, for our boys can bat when +they haven’t the heart taken out of them.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk!” cried Tom Davis.</p> + +<p>“Nothing like being honest about it,” commented<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +Dr. Rudden. “That statement does you +credit, Brown. How many of you think the same—that +a different pitcher would strengthen the +team?”</p> + +<p>“I! I! I!” yelled scores.</p> + +<p>“It’s not so! Our pitchers are good enough!” +These cries came from Luke, Hiram and a few +of their cronies.</p> + +<p>“There seems to be a division of opinion,” +began the chairman. “I think we had better +vote on it.”</p> + +<p>“There are a lot of fellows here who have no +right to vote!” cried Hiram.</p> + +<p>“That won’t do, Shell,” said Dr. Rudden sternly. +“This is a matter that concerns the entire +school—to have a winning nine. Every student +is entitled to vote.”</p> + +<p>“Hurrah!” yelled Tom. “This is a victory +all right. The end of Hiram, Luke and Company +has come.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll pitch on the school team, Joe!” called +Peaches in our hero’s ear.</p> + +<p>“I’d like to,” Joe answered back, “but I’m +afraid——”</p> + +<p>“All in favor of having a change in pitchers, +since Frank Brown has been good enough, and +manly enough, to say that he knows his own weakness—all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +in favor of a change vote ‘aye,’” directed +the chairman.</p> + +<p>“Aye!” came in a thunderous chorus.</p> + +<p>“Contrary minded——”</p> + +<p>“No!” snapped Hiram. Luke and Jake Weston +followed with feeble negatives. They, too, +were beginning to see which way the wind blew.</p> + +<p>“Whom will you have for pitcher?” asked the +Professor. “Can you decide now, or will you +wait and——”</p> + +<p>“Decide now!” was yelled. “Joe Matson for +pitcher! Baseball Joe. Joe Matson!” was cried +in different parts of the room.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” assented the chairman. “This +may be a wise move. All in favor of Joe Matson +as pitcher, since Frank Brown, the regular boxman, +has practically resigned—all say ‘aye.’”</p> + +<p>Again came the hearty assent, and again the +feeble objection of Hiram.</p> + +<p>“Joe Matson is now the regular pitcher for the +school nine,” said Dr. Rudden.</p> + +<p>“And I want to say that I’m glad of the +change,” put in Larry Akers.</p> + +<p>“Hurray! Hurray!” yelled the now excited +and enthusiastic students. Things seemed to be +coming out right after all.</p> + +<p>“I want to say,” exclaimed Joe, “that while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +I appreciate the honor done me, we may need +substitute pitchers. In fact, I’m sure we will, and +I wish Frank and Larry would remain to help me. +I’ll coach them all I can, and I know they both +have pitching stuff in them. I’ve made quite a +study of pitching as an amateur. Some day I hope +to be a professional, and I’m willing to tell Frank +and Larry all I know.”</p> + +<p>“Good!” exclaimed the chairman. “I think +they’ll take your offer. Well, we have now made +one change. Are there any more that you think +necessary?”</p> + +<p>It was rather a delicate question, for everyone +knew what was meant. But the lads were saved +from doing what most of them knew ought to +be done.</p> + +<p>“Do I understand that Joe Matson is the regular +pitcher on the school team?” asked the manager, +sourly.</p> + +<p>“That seems to be the sentiment of the students, +Shell,” answered Dr. Rudden.</p> + +<p>“And without me, or the captain, having anything +to say about it?”</p> + +<p>“You were out-voted, Shell.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then all I’ve got to say is that I don’t +manage this nine any more!” fairly yelled Hiram. +“There’s my resignation, and it takes effect at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +once!” and, walking down the aisle he threw a +folded paper on the table at which the professor +sat.</p> + +<p>“Shall this resignation be accepted?” asked the +chairman, amid a rather tense silence.</p> + +<p>“Yes!” came so quickly and with such volume +that there was no doubt about the sentiment of +the crowd. Perhaps Hiram had hoped that he +would be asked to reconsider it, but if so he was +disappointed. He walked back to where Luke +sat. He leaned over the captain and said something +in a whisper.</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to,” replied Luke, loudly enough +for all in the room to hear.</p> + +<p>“Go on!” ordered the bully. “If you don’t, +I’ll——” and then his voice sank to a whisper +again.</p> + +<p>“All right,” assented Luke, and walking forward +as his crony had done, he, too, tossed a +paper on the table. “There’s my resignation as +captain and a member of the Excelsior baseball +nine!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>There was a gasp of surprise from the crowd. +Hiram and Luke both out! It was rather unexpected, +but Tom and his friends felt elated. +Now they would have a chance to play. It looked +like the dawn of a brighter day for Excelsior Hall.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV</a></h2> + +<h3>TWO OF A KIND</h3> + + +<p>“There is another resignation to act on,” said +Dr. Rudden, after a pause, and, somehow he did +not seem half as worried over it as Luke had +hoped he would be. “What shall we do with it?”</p> + +<p>“Take it!” exclaimed Tom, and it was accepted +with a promptness that startled the former +captain.</p> + +<p>“The action taken to-night makes it necessary +to elect a new manager and a captain,” went on +the professor. “Perhaps the manager should be +elected first. Whom will you have?”</p> + +<p>“Peaches Lantfeld,” called some.</p> + +<p>“Teeter Nelson,” said others.</p> + +<p>“George Bland! Sister Davis! Ward Gerard! +Tommy Barton,” called various lads. There were +more nominations, but Peaches received the majority +of votes, and was declared elected. Teeter +was the first to congratulate him, and the others +followed.</p> + +<p>“Now a captain,” suggested the chairman.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Joe Matson!” yelled scores of voices.</p> + +<p>“No, I can’t accept,” cried Joe, jumping to his +feet. “If I’m going to pitch I want to give all +my time to that. I’m much obliged, but I decline.”</p> + +<p>“I think it would not be wise to make your +pitcher the captain, especially at this time,” spoke +Dr. Rudden. “The catcher is in a better position +to captain a team, for he can see all the plays. +You will have to have a new catcher, and——”</p> + +<p>“Ward Gerard!” called Joe. “He’s caught +for me on the scrub, and——”</p> + +<p>“Ward! Ward Gerard!” Scores of lads took +up the calling of his name. He was very popular, +and was elected in a minute, while Hiram and +Luke, followed by Jake Weston, filed from the +room in plainly-shown disgust, sneers on their +faces.</p> + +<p>Nothing more remained to do save to have a +conference of the new captain and manager, to +arrange for future practice and playing. This +was soon done, and Ward told the lads to report +early the next Monday afternoon, when they +would play the scrub, which organization had also +to select a new captain and pitcher, as well as +catcher.</p> + +<p>“Now, all I want is to get Tom Davis on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +school nine, and I’ll be happy,” said Joe to Peaches +and Teeter, as the meeting broke up.</p> + +<p>“I think you can,” declared Teeter. “Jake +Weston is going to get out, I hear, and Tom will +fit in. Charlie Borden can take Jake’s place at +short and Tom can play first, which he’s used +to. Oh, I guess old Excelsior Hall has come into +her own again, and we’ll make some of these other +teams sit up and take notice.”</p> + +<p>And Jake did resign, following the example of +his two cronies. This made a place for Tom, and +he promptly filled it.</p> + +<p>There was a snap and a vim to the playing of +the school nine when they first went at it with the +changed players, that fairly took the breath out +of the scrub. Of course that unfortunate collection +of players was weakened by the withdrawal +of Joe, Ward and Tom, but even with players of +equal strength it is doubtful if they could have +held the school nine down.</p> + +<p>Joe and his mates struck a winning streak, and +the young pitcher never was better than in that +practice game on Monday afternoon.</p> + +<p>“Joe’s pitching his head off,” observed Tom +Davis, and when Ward missed holding one or two +particular “hot” ones he thought the same thing. +The school team won a decisive victory.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But that doesn’t mean we will beat Trinity +on Saturday,” said Peaches, the new manager. +“Don’t begin to take it easy, fellows. And then +follows the second game in the series with Morningside. +We’ve got to get that or those boys will +think they’ve gotten into the habit of beating us.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll trim ’em both!” cried Tom.</p> + +<p>“Sure,” assented Joe. It was like old times +now, he reflected, he and Tom together on a team +as they had been on the Silver Stars. The only +thing that worried Joe was the theft of his father’s +papers and patent models. He knew it would +mean a serious loss to his parents, and Joe was +rather in fear that he might have to leave boarding +school.</p> + +<p>“If I have to go away, I hope it won’t be +until after I have helped win back the Blue Banner,” +he confided to Tom.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t worry,” advised his chum; and a +few days later Joe received a letter from home, +telling him the same thing.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matson wrote that whereas the loss would +badly cripple him, yet he did not want Joe to +worry.</p> + +<p>The game with Trinity was a source of delight +to the Excelsior team. Their rivals came to the +diamond battlefield eager for a victory, and they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +worked hard for it, but the new combination was +too much for them. When the final run was +chalked up the score stood:</p> + +<p>Excelsior Hall, 11; Trinity, 4.</p> + +<p>“That’s what we want to do to Morningside,” +said Tom.</p> + +<p>“And we will!” predicted Joe.</p> + +<p>They had hard practice before the second game +with their ancient rivals—for Morningside was a +foe whom Excelsior Hall was always eager to +beat. In the series for the possession of the Blue +Banner she had three games with Morningside +and a like number with the other teams in the +league.</p> + +<p>It was the day of the second Morningside game, +and it was to take place on the Excelsior diamond. +The weather could not have been better. Spring +was just merging into Summer, and the lads were +on their mettle. There had been a big improvement +in their playing, and they were ready to do +battle to a finish.</p> + +<p>Luke and Hiram had not been much in evidence +since their resignations. They occasionally came +to a game, or to practice, but they made sneering +remarks, and few of the students had anything +to do with them. It was quite a jolt for Hiram, +used as he was to running matters to suit himself.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> + +<p>The crowd began arriving early at the Excelsior +diamond, for word had gone around that it +was to be a game for “blood,” and both teams +were on edge. If Excelsior had improved, so had +Morningside. They had strengthened their men +by long, hard practice, and they were confident of +victory.</p> + +<p>Joe and Tom had expected before this to hear +something about their old enemy, Sam Morton, at +Morningside, but the former pitcher for the Silver +Stars was seldom mentioned. However, it was +learned that he was to substitute in the Morningside-Excelsior +game.</p> + +<p>Out on the diamond trotted the renovated Excelsior +nine. They were received with a burst of +applause, and at once got to practice. A little +later out came their rivals, and there was a cheer +for them. Immediately the opposition cheering +and shouting contingents got busy, and there was +a riot of sound.</p> + +<p>“Going to stay and see the game?” asked Luke +of Hiram, as they entered the gate.</p> + +<p>“Yes, might as well. Gee! But I hope our +fellows lose!”</p> + +<p>Nice sentiments, weren’t they for an Excelsior +student? But then Hiram was very sore and +angry.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> + +<p>“So do I,” added Luke. “It would show them +what a mistake they made by dropping us.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right,” agreed the conceited Hiram. +“If they had only waited we’d have come out all +right. It was all the fault of Joe Matson and +Tom Davis. I’ll get square with ’em yet.”</p> + +<p>They strolled over the grounds, winding in and +out amid the throngs. They almost collided with +a Morningside player.</p> + +<p>“Beg your pardon,” murmured Luke. “Oh, +it’s Sam Morton,” he added, for he had met Sam +in town a week or so previously. “Have you +met Hiram Shell, Sam,” and he introduced the +two.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, you’re the manager of the Excelsiors,” +said Sam. “Glad to know you. I think +we’ll beat you again. I may pitch after the fifth +inning. I’m only the sub now, but I expect to +be the regular soon.”</p> + +<p>“I <i>was</i> manager,” replied Hiram bitterly, “but +Joe Matson and his crowd put up a game on me, +and I resigned.”</p> + +<p>“Joe Matson, eh? He’s the same fellow who +made a lot of trouble for me.”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me,” murmured Luke. “I see a +friend of mine. I’m going to leave you for a +minute.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> + +<p>“All right,” assented Hiram. “So Joe Matson +made trouble for you, too, eh?” he went on +to Sam, curiously.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he played a mean trick on me, and took +my place as pitcher,” which wasn’t exactly true, +as my old readers know. “I’d like to get square +with him some way,” concluded Sam.</p> + +<p>“Say, so would I!” exclaimed Hiram eagerly. +“Shake hands on that. He’s a low sneak, and +he played a mean trick on me. I’d do anything +to get even.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe we can,” suggested Sam.</p> + +<p>“How?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, lots of ways. Come on over here where +no one will hear us. Maybe we can fix up some +scheme on him. I’d give a good deal to get even.”</p> + +<p>“So would I,” added Hiram. “I wish I could +get him off the nine, and out of the school.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll help you,” proposed Sam eagerly; and +then the two, who were very much of a kind when +it came to disliking our hero, walked off, whispering +together.</p> + +<p>“Play ball!” came the distant cry of the umpire, +and the great Excelsior-Morningside game +was about to start. But the plotters did not turn +back to watch it.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV</a></h2> + +<h3>BY A CLOSE MARGIN</h3> + + +<p>“Whew!” whistled Captain Elmer Dalton of +the Morningside nine, as he greeted some of the +lads against whom his team was to play, “you +fellows have been making a lot of changes, haven’t +you?” and he looked at the several new members +of the school team, including Joe and Tom.</p> + +<p>“Yes, a bit of house cleaning,” replied Ward +Gerard. “I am captain now. Hiram and Luke +got out.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I heard there was some sort of a row.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I suppose it’s all over the league by this +time,” put in Peaches. “But it couldn’t be helped. +It was like a dose of bitter medicine, but we took +it, and I think it’s going to do us good.”</p> + +<p>“You mean <i>we’re</i> going to do you good,” +laughed Elmer. “We’re going to trim you again +to-day.”</p> + +<p>“Not much!” cried Ward. “We’ll win. Come +now, a little wager between you and me—for the +sodas, say.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You’re on!” agreed Elmer. “Where’s your +batting list?”</p> + +<p>The two captains walked over to the scoring +bench to arrange the details of the game. The +two teams were made up as follows, this being the +batting order:</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="ExcelsiorOrder"> +<col style="width: 60%;" /> +<col style="width: 40%;" /> +<tr> + <td class="tdc" colspan="2">EXCELSIOR—</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">George Bland</td> + <td class="tdrb">centre field</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Dick Lantfeld</td> + <td class="tdrb">left field</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Harry Nelson</td> + <td class="tdrb">second base</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Nat Pierson</td> + <td class="tdrb">third base</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Tom Davis</td> + <td class="tdrb">first base</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Charles Borden</td> + <td class="tdrb">shortstop</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Harry Lauter</td> + <td class="tdrb">right field</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Joe Matson</td> + <td class="tdrb">pitcher</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Ward Gerard</td> + <td class="tdrb">catcher</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="MorningsideOrder"> +<col style="width: 60%;" /> +<col style="width: 40%;" /> +<tr> + <td class="tdc" colspan="2">MORNINGSIDE—</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Dunlap Spurr</td> + <td class="tdrb">centre field</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Will Lee</td> + <td class="tdrb">shortstop</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Wilson Carlburg</td> + <td class="tdrb">left field</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Ted Clay</td> + <td class="tdrb">pitcher</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Wallace Douglass</td> + <td class="tdrb">catcher</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Elmer Dalton</td> + <td class="tdrb">first base</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Walker Bromley</td> + <td class="tdrb">third base</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Loftus Brown</td> + <td class="tdrb">second base</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl">Harry Young</td> + <td class="tdrb">right field</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>The Excelsiors were to bat last, and while the +rival crowds of school boys were singing, cheering +and giving their class yells, Joe Matson walked +to the box for the second time as pitcher on the +school nine in a big school league game. No +wonder he felt a trifle nervous, but he did not +show it, not even when some one yelled:</p> + +<p>“Look at the new pitcher they’ve got! We’ll +get his number all right.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, we’ll have his goat in about a minute!” +added another Morningside partizan.</p> + +<p>“Go as far as you like,” answered Joe with a +smile.</p> + +<p>“Play ball!” yelled the umpire, and Joe faced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +the first batter, Dunlap Spurr, who had the reputation +of being a heavy hitter. Ward signalled +for a low one, for he knew that Dunlap had a +tendency to hit over such a ball. Joe nodded his +head to show that he understood, and <a href="#image01">the next +moment the horsehide went speeding toward the +plate</a>.</p> + +<p>The batter swung viciously at it but—missed. +He had gone half a foot over it.</p> + +<p>“Strike!” cried the umpire.</p> + +<p>“Make him give you a pretty one!” called Elmer. +“He will if you wait.”</p> + +<p>“He won’t have long to wait,” retorted our +hero. This time he decided to send one over the +corner of the plate, as he noticed that Dunlap had +a free swing. Joe hoped he would strike at it +and miss, and that was exactly what happened.</p> + +<p>“Strike two!” howled the umpire, and there +followed a gasp of dismay. Dunlap was not +in the habit of doing this, and he rather scowled. +Joe smiled.</p> + +<p>“One more and we’ll have him down!” called +the catcher.</p> + +<p>“Where’d you get the pitcher?” asked a Morningside +wit.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we had him made to order,” replied Tom +Davis, who was anxiously waiting on first.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> + +<p>Joe hoped he could make it three straight +strikes, but his next was called a ball, and the +Morningside supporters let out a yell of gratification.</p> + +<p>“There’s his glass arm showing! He’s going +to pieces!” they yelled. Joe shut his jaw grimly. +He was going to fool the batter if possible, and +the next ball he sent in was a puzzling inshoot.</p> + +<p>Instinctively Dunlap started away from the +plate, but he need not have moved, for the ball, +with a neat little twist, passed him at a safe distance, +and at a point where he could almost have +hit it had he tried. But he did not move his +bat, and an instant later the umpire called:</p> + +<p>“Three strikes—batter out!”</p> + +<p>Then indeed was there a gasp of dismay and +protest from the big crowd of Morningside sympathizers, +and the visiting nine.</p> + +<p>“Say,” began Dunlap Spurr, “that was +never——”</p> + +<p>“You dry up!” commanded his captain with +a laugh. “It was a peach of a ball, and you ought +to have hit it. Don’t begin that way. We can +beat ’em without that. Good work, Matson, but +you can’t keep it up. Come on, Lee; you’re up +next. Carlburg on deck.”</p> + +<p>Joe was immensely pleased, but he knew it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +only the beginning of the battle. He got two +strikes on Lee and that player began to get worried. +Then, after one ball, Lee hit the next one +for a pop fly that Joe hardly had to step out of +his box to get.</p> + +<p>“Two down, play for all you’re worth, Joe,” +called Ward; but Joe needed no such urging. +However, something went wrong. Either Joe did +not have as good control, speed or curving ability +as when he had started in, or the next players +found him. At any rate Carlburg knocked a dandy +two bagger, and Ted Clay, who followed, +duplicated the trick. Carlburg came in with the +first run of the game, amid a riot of noise, and +when Wallace Douglass hit safely to first, Clay +got to third, coming in with the second run a little +later, when Captain Dalton also singled.</p> + +<p>“We’ve got ’em going! We’ve got ’em going!” +yelled the delighted Morningside crowd, +and it did seem so. Joe felt that he must tighten +up, and strike out the next man, or all would be +lost.</p> + +<p>He glanced at the bench, where the jubilant +Morningside players were sitting, all regarding +him sharply. It was a supreme test. Then Joe +caught the eyes of some one else on him. The +eyes of Sam Morton, his old enemy.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was like a dash of cold water. For the time +being he had forgotten that Sam was the substitute +pitcher on the visiting team, but had Joe seen +him and Hiram in close consultation a little while +previously, our hero would have had reason long +to remember it.</p> + +<p>“I’ll show ’em I am still in the ring!” Joe murmured, +and when he wound up for his next delivery +he knew that he had himself well in hand +again.</p> + +<p>“Come on now, bring us all in!” urged Captain +Dalton, when Walker Bromley got up to the plate. +“He’ll walk you, and then Loftus and Harry will +have a show. We’ll have the whole team up.”</p> + +<p>It began to look so, for already seven of the nine +had been at bat. Joe might have wasted time trying +to nail some lad who was playing too far off base, +but he did not. Instead he sized up Bromley and +sent him a swift one. The batter struck at it and +missed. The next ball was called a strike, and +attention was at fever heat. Would Walker hit +it?</p> + +<p>The question was answered in the negative a +moment later, for he swung at it with all his force +and fanned the air.</p> + +<p>“Out!” called the umpire, and the side was +retired. But Morningside had two runs, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +way Joe had been hit by four men did not augur +well for Excelsior’s chances.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we’ll do ’em!” said Ward, with more +confidence than he felt.</p> + +<p>“I hope they pound Joe out of the box,” murmured +Hiram to Luke.</p> + +<p>“So do I,” said the former catcher.</p> + +<p>Excelsior hoped for great things when it came +her turn at stick-work, but alas for hopes! A +series of happenings worked against her. George +Bland rapped out as pretty a two bagger as one +could wish, but he tried to steal third, slipped on +a pebble when almost safe, and was thrown out. +Peaches Lantfeld knocked a sharp grounder that +looked almost certain to get past the shortstop; +and it did, but the third baseman, who was a rattling +good player, nabbed it and Peaches went +down.</p> + +<p>“Now, Teeter!” called Ward. “See what you +can do.”</p> + +<p>Teeter got to first on a muffed fly, and it was +Nat Pierson’s turn. Nat could usually be depended +on, but this time he could not. He fanned +twice and the third time got two fouls in succession.</p> + +<p>“Well, we’re finding the ball, anyhow,” said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +Ward cheerfully. “Kill it next time, Nat, and +give Sister Davis a show.”</p> + +<p>Nat tried to, but he knocked an easy fly, which +the pitcher gathered in, and the opportunity of the +Excelsior nine was over for that inning. A big +goose egg went up in their frame. Score: 2—0, +in favor of the visitors.</p> + +<p>Joe took a long breath when he went into the +box again, and facing Loftus Brown, struck him +out in such short order that his friends began to +breathe easier again. The game was far from +lost, and as long as Joe did not allow his “goat” +to be gotten, Excelsior might win yet. Then Harry +Young, probably the poorest batter the visitors +had, fanned thrice successively, and it was Dunlap +Spurr’s turn again. Joe knew just what to give +him, and when he struck him out, after two foul +strikes had been made, the crowd set up a yell.</p> + +<p>The visitors did not get a run in their half of +the second, and once more Excelsior had a show. +Tom Davis singled, got around to third when +Charlie Borden knocked a two-bagger, and slid +home in a close play when Harry Lauter was +thrown out at first. There was only one gone +when Joe came to bat, and one run had come in. +Joe knocked a safety, or at least it looked as if it +was going to be that, but the shortstop, by a magnificent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +jump into the air, nabbed it, and then came +as pretty a double play as had ever taken place on +that diamond. Joe was put out and Charlie Borden, +who had been hugging third, was caught at +home, for he was not a fast runner.</p> + +<p>That retired the side, and there was only one +run to match the two which Morningside had. Still +it was something, and the home team began to +take heart.</p> + +<p>Then began what was one of the most remarkable +games in the series. Joe did not allow a hit +in the first half of the third inning and the Excelsiors +got one run, tying the score. In the fourth +the visitors pulled a single tally down, putting +them one ahead, and then, just to show what they +could do, the home team knocked out two, gaining +an advantage of one.</p> + +<p>The crowd was wild with delight at the clean +playing, for both teams were on their mettle, and +the rival pitchers were delivering good balls. But +the fifth inning nearly proved a Waterloo for our +friends. The Morningsides got four runs, which +made Joe groan inwardly in anguish, for he was +severely pounded.</p> + +<p>“Maybe you’d better let Brown or Akers go +in,” he suggested to Ward.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Not on your life!” cried the captain. “You +are all right. It was just a slip. Hold hard and +we’ll do ’em.”</p> + +<p>Joe held hard, and there was a little encouragement +when his team got one run, making the +score at the ending of the fifth inning seven to five +in favor of the Morningside team.</p> + +<p>Once more in the opening of the sixth Joe did +the trick. He allowed but one single, and then +three men fanned in succession, while, just to make +things more than ever interesting, the Excelsiors +got two runs, again tying the score.</p> + +<p>“Say, we’ll have to wake up if we’re going to +wallop these fellows,” confided the visiting captain +to his lads. “They have certainly improved +a lot by getting Hiram and Luke out.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, we’ll do ’em,” predicted Ted Clay, the +pitcher.</p> + +<p>From then on the Excelsiors fairly “played their +heads off,” and they ought to have done much +better than they did when their hard work was +taken into consideration. But there were many +weak spots that might in the future be eliminated +by good coaching, and Joe needed harder practice.</p> + +<p>But in every inning thereafter the home team +got at least one run, save only in the seventh. In +their half of the sixth they got two, as I have said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +and though the visitors got one in their half of +the seventh, again making the score one in their +favor, in the eighth our friends got three, while +the visitors got only two. So that at the close +of the eighth the score was: Excelsior, 10; Morningside +10.</p> + +<p>“A tie! A tie!” cried hundreds of voices. Indeed +it had pretty nearly been a tie game all the way +through, and it might go to ten innings or more.</p> + +<p>“We’ve got to beat ’em!” declared Captain +Ward. “Joe, whitewash ’em this inning, and in +the next we’ll get the winning run.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do it!” confidently promised the young +pitcher, and he did. He was tossing the ball according +to his old form again, and not a man +landed his stick on it during the first half of the +ninth. Then, as the home team came up for +their last whacks (except in the event of the score +being a tie), they were wildly greeted by their +schoolmates.</p> + +<p>“One run to beat ’em! Only one!” yelled the +crowd.</p> + +<p>“I guess it’s all up with us,” remarked the visiting +captain to his men, as they took the field. +“They’re bound to get that one.”</p> + +<p>“Not if I can help it!” exclaimed the pitcher +fiercely.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> + +<p>And it looked as if he was going to make good +his boast, for he struck out two men in quick order. +And then up came Tom Davis.</p> + +<p>“Swat it, Tom. Swat it!” was the general +cry. “Bring in a home run!”</p> + +<p>“Watch me,” he answered grimly.</p> + +<p>Two strikes were called on him, and two balls. +There was a nervous tension on everyone, for, +unless Tom made good, the game would have to +go another inning, when all sorts of possibilities +might happen.</p> + +<p>Ping!</p> + +<p>That was the mighty sound of Tom’s bat landing +on the ball. Away sailed the horsehide—up +and away, far over the head of the centre fielder, +who raced madly after it.</p> + +<p>“Go on! Go on!”</p> + +<p>“Run, you swatter, run!”</p> + +<p>“A homer! A homer!”</p> + +<p>These cries greeted and encouraged Tom as he +legged it for first base. On and on he went, +faster and faster, rounding the initial bag, going +on to second and then to third. The centre fielder +had the ball now, but he would have to relay it in. +He threw as Tom left third.</p> + +<p>“Come on! Come on!” yelled Joe, jumping +up and down.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> + +<p>“If you don’t bring in that run I’ll never speak +to you again!” shouted Ward.</p> + +<p>The crowd was in a frenzy. Men and women +were standing up on the seats, some jumping up +and down, others yelling at the tops of their voices, +and some pounding each other on the back in +their excitement.</p> + +<p>On and on ran Tom, but he was getting weary +now. The second baseman had the ball and was +swinging his arm back to hurl it home. But Tom +was almost there now, and he slid over the plate +a full two seconds ere the ball landed in the +catcher’s big mitt.</p> + +<p>“Safe!” howled the umpire.</p> + +<p>“And we win the game!” yelled Joe, as he +raced over to Tom and slapped him on the back, +an example followed by so many others that poor +Tom nearly lost his breath. “You won the game +for us, Tom!”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! If you hadn’t held ’em down by +your pitching, Joe, my run wouldn’t have done +any good.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right!” cried the others, and it was +so. Excelsior Hall had won the second of the +big games with her ancient rival, though it was +by the narrow margin of one run.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI</a></h2> + +<h3>THE OVERTURNED STATUE</h3> + + +<p>“Three cheers for the Excelsiors!” cried the +visiting captain, swinging his hat around in the air +as a signal to his crowd, after the excitement had +somewhat calmed. “Three good cheers, boys! +They beat us fair and square! Three big cheers!”</p> + +<p>And how they rang out! And how also rang +out the return cheers, which Joe and his mates +rendered. Never had applause sounded sweeter +in the ears of our hero, for it seemed that the +school nine had now begun to live in better days, +since the dismissal of Hiram and Luke.</p> + +<p>Joe kept at his pitching practice, and he himself +knew, even had others, including Tom, not told +him, that he was doing well.</p> + +<p>“You’re better than when you pitched for the +Silver Stars,” said Tom, “and you were no slouch +then.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think I <i>am</i> more sure of myself,” admitted +Joe. “And I’ve got more speed and better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +curves.” It was natural that he should have. He +was growing taller and stronger that Summer, and +he had most excellent practice. He had not given +up the idea of becoming a professional pitcher, +and everything he could do tended that way for +him.</p> + +<p>He had heard nothing more definite from home, +but Mr. Matson said he was still trying to trace +the stolen models and papers.</p> + +<p>“I’ll help you when vacation time comes,” said +Joe in a letter. “But I’m playing ball for all I’m +worth now.”</p> + +<p>“Keep at it,” his father wrote back.</p> + +<p>There were many games played that season by +Excelsior Hall—many more than the previous +Summer—for Spring had now given place to warm +weather. The school term was drawing to a close, +but there were still many more games to play in +the league series.</p> + +<p>In succession Excelsior met and defeated Trinity, +the Lakeview Preps. and Woodside Hall. She +was near the top of the list now, though Morningside +was quite a way in advance. It looked as if +eventually there would be a tie for first place between +the old rivals—a tie for the possession of +the Blue Banner, and if there was it meant a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +final game. Joe looked forward to it with mingled +fear and hope.</p> + +<p>“How I hate him!” exclaimed Hiram to his +crony, Luke, one day after a close game, when +Joe’s pitching had won again for Excelsior. “I +wish I could get him out of the school, or off the +nine, or something.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you? I thought you and Sam Morton +had some scheme.”</p> + +<p>“We thought so, too, but it fell through. But +I’ve thought of something else, and if you and +Sam will help me carry it out, I think we can put +it all over that fresh guy.”</p> + +<p>“Sure, I’ll help; what is it?”</p> + +<p>“First we’ve got to get hold of something belonging +to him—his knife, if it’s got his name on; +a letter addressed to him, that he’s opened and +read; a handkerchief with his name on; anything +that would show he’d been in a certain place at a +certain time.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose we do?”</p> + +<p>“Leave the rest to Sam and me, if you can get +us something.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do it!” promised Luke. “I’m on the same +corridor with Joe now; I changed my room, you +know. I shouldn’t wonder but what I could sneak +in and get something belonging to him.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Do it, then. I’ve got a date with Sam, and +I’ll go see him. See if you can get something this +afternoon or evening, and if you can we’ll do it.”</p> + +<p>“I will,” and the two plotters parted, the chief +one to keep an appointment with Joe’s enemy. +Sam’s hatred against our hero was increased because +Sam was not allowed to pitch for his own +team.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got to keep Ted Clay in condition, so that +when we meet Excelsior again he’ll be on edge,” +said Captain Dalton of the Morningsides. “That +Matson is a wonder and we can’t take any chances. +I don’t dare risk letting you pitch.”</p> + +<p>“That’s another one I owe to Joe!” muttered +Sam. “I must certainly get even with him. +Hiram and I ought to pull off something,” and +then he sent word to the Excelsior bully. That +afternoon the three conspirators, with guilty looks, +met in a secluded place and talked over their plans.</p> + +<p>There was a knock on Joe’s door. His chum +Tom had gone out that evening to a lecture, and +our hero was all alone.</p> + +<p>“Come!” called Joe, and from down the corridor +Luke Fodick peered out of his slightly-opened +door to see what was going on.</p> + +<p>“Here’s a telegram for you,” said one of the +school messengers, handing in a yellow envelope.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> + +<p>“A telegram for me,” murmured Joe. “It must +be from dad. I may have to send an answer. +Did the messenger wait?”</p> + +<p>“No, he’s gone.”</p> + +<p>“All right, if I do have to wire, perhaps I +can get permission to go in to town to do it.”</p> + +<p>Quickly Joe tore open the message. It was +brief, and it was from his father.</p> + +<p>“Understand Holdney is somewhere near +Cedarhurst,” the message read. “Keep a lookout, +and if you get trace notify police there at +once. Arrest on larceny charge.”</p> + +<p>“Rufus Holdney near here,” murmured Joe. +“I must keep my eyes open. I’ll wire dad at once, +telling him I’m on the job.”</p> + +<p>He hurried from his room, stuffing the telegram +in his pocket as he went, and never noticing as he +passed Luke’s door that it fell out into the corridor.</p> + +<p>“I hope I can get permission to go to the telegraph +office,” mused Joe as he hastened to the +office. “I guess the doctor will let me when I +tell him what it’s about.”</p> + +<p>As Joe turned a corner out of sight, Luke +sprang out, picked up the message and envelope, +and exclaimed:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> + +<p>“This will do the trick! Now to find Hiram +and Sam.”</p> + +<p>He hurried to tell his crony, who was being +visited by Sam, and once more the three put their +heads together, to work the ruin of our hero.</p> + +<p>Joe easily obtained permission to go to town +to send his message. He was rather surprised on +looking in his pocket for his father’s telegram, +not to find it, but concluded that he had left it in +his room. He did not really need it, anyhow, as +he knew the contents perfectly well.</p> + +<p>The telegraph office was closed when he reached +it, but the operator lived near by, and agreed to +open his place, and tick off the message. This delayed +Joe, however, and he was rather late getting +back to the school. He did not see a teacher to +report to him, as he had been bidden to do, but +hurried to his own room.</p> + +<p>He was tired and soon fell asleep, noting that +Tom was already in bed and slumbering. Joe did +not look for his lost message.</p> + +<p>There was a thundering knock at Joe’s door +the next morning. It awoke him and Tom.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Fire!”</p> + +<p>“Fire! No. Haven’t you heard the news?” +asked the voice of Peaches. “There’s a big row +on.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> + +<p>“What’s up?” demanded Tom, slipping out of +bed, and opening the door.</p> + +<p>“The Founder Statue has been pulled from its +base, and overturned!” said Teeter, who was with +Peaches. “Look, you can see it from your +window.”</p> + +<p>Tom and Joe hastened to the casement to look. +On the campus, not far from the school, stood a +bronze statue of Dr. Theodore Whittleside, the +original founder of the institution. It was a fine +piece of work, the gift of several of the alumni +societies, and was almost sacred. Now some ruthless +hand had pulled it from its base, and part +of one of the hands was broken off.</p> + +<p>For a moment Joe and Tom stood aghast, looking +at it. Then the meaning of it came to them. +Some sacrilegious student, or students, had done +the deed.</p> + +<p>“There’ll be a peach of a row over this!” +declared Teeter. “Hurry up and get to chapel. +Old Cæsar is sure to spout a lot about it. It’s +sure dismissal for whoever did it.”</p> + +<p>“And it ought to be!” exclaimed Joe wrathfully.</p> + +<p>“If they catch them,” added Tom, thoughtfully. +“I wonder who did it?”</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII</a></h2> + +<h3>ON PROBATION</h3> + + +<p>Joe did not get to chapel that morning. He +was all ready to go with Tom and the others after +making a hasty toilet, when a messenger came to +the door.</p> + +<p>“Dr. Fillmore wants to see you in his office, +Joe,” said the messenger—a nice lad who did +this work to help pay for his tuition.</p> + +<p>“Wants to see me—what for?” demanded our +hero. “Are you sure that’s right, Georgie?”</p> + +<p>“Sure, and a teacher’s there with him. I’m not +sure but I think it’s something about the overthrown +statue. I heard them mention it as they +called me to go for you.”</p> + +<p>“The overturned statue? I don’t know anything +about it!” exclaimed Joe. “I only just this +moment saw it—from my window.”</p> + +<p>“Well, the doctor wants you, anyhow,” repeated +the messenger lad. “You’d better go.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, sure,” assented Joe, and he started for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +the doctor’s study with wonder in his heart and +a puzzled and rather an ominous look on his face. +His companions regarded him seriously.</p> + +<p>“What do you s’pose is in the wind?” asked +Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Give it up,” remarked Teeter. “Are <i>you</i> on, +Tom?”</p> + +<p>“Nary a bit. First I knew of it was when you +fellows came and told me.”</p> + +<p>“Was Joe out last night?” asked Peaches.</p> + +<p>“That’s so, he did go into town,” replied Tom. +“He left a note to tell me—but that was all +straight—he had permission. It can’t be that.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ll hear in chapel,” said Teeter.</p> + +<p>“Ah, it’s you is it, Matson?” asked the doctor, +as our hero entered the study. There was a +curious note in the master’s voice, and he glanced +narrowly at Joe. “Come in. I am sorry to have +to summon you on such an unpleasant and important +matter, but I have no choice. As you +probably know, the Founder’s Statue was overturned +last night.”</p> + +<p>He looked questioningly at Joe.</p> + +<p>“I just saw it from my window,” was the +simple answer.</p> + +<p>“It was done last night,” went on the doctor +with a look at a teacher who acted as proctor. “It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +was a disgraceful, vile piece of vandalism. The +guilty one will be severely punished. Doubtless +you are wondering why we sent for you. It was +on account of this, which was picked up by one +of the janitors in front of the statue, when he discovered +its fallen position this morning.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Fillmore held out to Joe the telegram our +hero had received from his father the night previous!</p> + +<p>“Is this yours?” asked the doctor.</p> + +<p>“Ye—yes, it came to me last night. It’s from +my father.”</p> + +<p>“What did you do after you got it?”</p> + +<p>“Put it in my pocket and went out to answer +it. I had permission from the proctor.”</p> + +<p>“That is right,” assented that official. “But I +did not see you come in.”</p> + +<p>“No, I was late. The telegraph office was not +open, and I had to rouse the operator.”</p> + +<p>“When did you last see this telegram?” asked +the doctor.</p> + +<p>“I missed it soon after I started, but I concluded +that I had dropped it,” said Joe. Then it +all came to him. The school authorities believed +that the telegram had dropped out of his pocket +when he was at the work of overturning the +statue, in which vandalism he had no hand.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> + +<p>“It was picked up near where the vile work +went on,” said the doctor bitterly. “It is evidence +that even if you had no actual hand in the +dastardly horseplay, that you might have witnessed +it, and you can tell us who did it. That +is what we now call on you to do, Matson. Tell +us who did it.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t know!” cried poor Joe. “I didn’t +see anything of it. I got in a little late, and went +at once to my room. That telegram may have +dropped from my pocket at any time, someone +may have picked it up and put it—I mean dropped +it—as they were passing the statue—either before +or after it was pulled from the base.”</p> + +<p>“That is hardly likely,” said the doctor. “I +am very sorry, Matson, but I must conclude that +even if you had no hand in the vandalism, that you +know who did it, or suspect.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t!” cried Joe eagerly. “Someone +may have put this telegram there to make it +look——”</p> + +<p>He stopped in some confusion. He never had +been a “squealer,” and he was not going to begin +now.</p> + +<p>“I think I know what you mean,” said the proctor +quietly. “You mean that some enemy of +yours may have had an object in making it appear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +as if you had a hand in this work.” He looked +narrowly at Joe.</p> + +<p>“I—I, well, it might have happened that way.”</p> + +<p>“And of the students here, whom would you +regard as your enemy?” asked Dr. Fillmore +quickly.</p> + +<p>“I—I—I must refuse to answer,” said Joe +firmly. “It would not be fair.”</p> + +<p>“You mean you won’t tell?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t, Doctor. I haven’t any right to assume +that the telegram came there that way. I +know that I didn’t pass very near the statue, +either on leaving or coming back to school. The +message dropped from my pocket, I’m sure of +that, but the wind may have blown it near the +statue.”</p> + +<p>“There was no wind last night,” said the proctor +severely.</p> + +<p>“Then—then——” stammered Joe.</p> + +<p>“That will do, Matson,” said the doctor quietly, +and there was sorrow in his voice. “I will +not question you further. I am convinced that +if you had no hand in the actual overturning of +the statue, that you know something of how it was +done, or who did it. Are you prepared to tell +us?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, I am not. I—can’t.”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I think I understand,” said Dr. Fillmore. +“Very well. Understand, we do not accuse you +of anything, but under the circumstances I must +put you on probation.”</p> + +<p>“Probation?” murmured Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” added the proctor as the doctor turned +away. “That means that you will not be allowed +to leave the school grounds. You will report to +your classes and lectures as usual, but you will +not be allowed to take part in athletic contests.”</p> + +<p>“Not—not baseball?” gasped Joe.</p> + +<p>“Not baseball,” replied the proctor. “I am +sorry, but that is the rule for one who is on probation. +When you make up your mind to make a +complete confession, and tell whom you saw at +the work of tearing down the statue——”</p> + +<p>“But I didn’t——” began Joe.</p> + +<p>“That will do,” interrupted the proctor gently. +“You are on probation until then. And you will +not be allowed to play baseball.”</p> + +<p>Joe felt his heart wildly thumping under his +coat. Without a word he turned aside and went +back to his room. And that is why he missed +chapel that morning.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII</a></h2> + +<h3>LUKE’S CONFESSION</h3> + + +<p>The anticipation of Teeter, Peaches and the +others that there would be a sensation in chapel +that morning was borne out. Never, in all their +experience, had the boys recalled Dr. Fillmore +being more bitter in his denunciation of what he +characterized as “sensational vandalism.”</p> + +<p>He liked boys to have good, clean healthy fun, +he said, and an occasional prank was not out of +order, but this pulling the statue from its base +passed all bounds. More and more bitter the +good doctor became. Perhaps part of his feeling +was due to the fact that the Founder had written +a book on Cæsar that the head of the school considered +an authority, and you remember how fond +Dr. Fillmore was of the writer of the “Commentaries.”</p> + +<p>The boys looked at each other as the denunciation +proceeded, and there were whispers of:</p> + +<p>“Who did it? Why doesn’t he name some +one?”</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> + +<p>The doctor came to that part in a moment.</p> + +<p>“We are unable to say who perpetrated this act +of sensational vandalism,” he went on, “but I +may say that once the students are discovered they +will be instantly dismissed from Excelsior Hall—this +is no place for them. I say we do not know +who did it, but we have reason to suspect——”</p> + +<p>Here the good doctor paused and there was an +uneasy movement among several lads.</p> + +<p>“We have reason to suspect that some one +knows who did it, but will not tell. I am sorry to +say that we have been obliged to inflict the usual +punishment on this—ahem—student and he is now +on probation. The usual exercises will now be +held.”</p> + +<p>They went on, but it is doubtful if the lads +were in a very devotional spirit. Joe’s absence was +at once noted, and of course it was guessed why +he was not there, though being on probation did +not bar one from chapel or classes.</p> + +<p>“By Jove!” exclaimed Tom, when they were +on their way to first lectures. “It’s Joe! Who’d +ever dream it?”</p> + +<p>“So that’s why he was wanted in the office,” +added Peaches.</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe he had a thing to do with +it!” declared Teeter vehemently.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Of course not!” chorused the other two.</p> + +<p>“But they evidently think he does,” went on +Tom. “Here he comes now; let’s ask him.”</p> + +<p>“Say, what does it all mean anyhow?” inquired +Teeter when he had warmly clasped Joe’s +hand.</p> + +<p>The young pitcher told of the finding of the +telegram, and its result.</p> + +<p>“But, hang it all, that’s no evidence!” burst +out Tom.</p> + +<p>“The doctor thinks so,” replied Joe grimly.</p> + +<p>“Some one who has a grudge against you—Say!” +exclaimed Teeter with a sudden change of +manner. “I’ll bet it was Luke or Hiram who did +it—pulled the statue down and then tried to blame +it on you.”</p> + +<p>“Sure!” chorused Tom and Peaches.</p> + +<p>“Wait!” cried Joe. “It’s bad enough for me +to be suspected of knowing something that I don’t, +but we can’t go to accusing even Hiram or Luke +on mere guesswork. It won’t do.”</p> + +<p>“But hang it all, man!” cried Peaches. “You +<i>can’t play ball</i>.”</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Joe quietly.</p> + +<p>“And the league season is closing! How are +we going to win without you in the box?”</p> + +<p>“You’ll have to—that’s all. Brown or Akers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +will have to twirl—they’re pretty good at it now.”</p> + +<p>There were sorrowful shakes of the heads, but +so it had to be. It may well be imagined that +there was a sensation in Excelsior Hall when it +was known that Joe was the one on probation, +and he was urged by more than one to tell all he +knew, no matter on whose shoulders the guilt +would fall.</p> + +<p>“But I don’t know!” he insisted again and +again. “And it wouldn’t be fair to guess.”</p> + +<p>The days went on. Frank Brown was tried out +in the box and did fairly well, thanks to the efficient +coaching Joe had given him. Excelsior even +won a game with him twirling, though by a narrow +margin, and against a weak team.</p> + +<p>But there were dubious shakes of the heads of +the students—especially those on the team—when +they thought of the games to come—the important +final with Morningside. Still there was no help +for it, and Brown and Akers redoubled their practice +in anticipation.</p> + +<p>There was no objection to Joe practicing, or +in coaching the two substitute pitchers, and he did +this every day. Our hero did not write home +about the disgrace that had come so undeservedly +upon him, merely telling general news, and assuring +his father that he had kept a lookout, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +made inquiries, but had neither seen nor heard +anything of Mr. Holdney.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the affairs of Mr. Matson—due to +the theft of the models—were in anything but +good shape. Still nothing could be done.</p> + +<p>Joe bitterly felt his position. So did his chums, +and they even tried their hand at amateur detective +work, endeavoring to discover who had pulled +down the statue and put Joe’s telegram where it +had been found. That it was put there was certain, +for Joe, on the night in question, had not +gone near the statue. In the meanwhile the bronze +had been put back in place and repaired. Among +the students there were those who thought they +knew the guilty ones, but nothing definite was disclosed.</p> + +<p>The school term was drawing to an end. After +the hard work of getting the ball team into shape +for championship honors it was hard to see it begin +to slip back. Yet this is what took place. +Brown and Akers could not keep up the pace set +by Joe, and several games were lost.</p> + +<p>By hard work, and more due to errors on the +part of their opponents, Excelsior won victories +over Trinity and the preparatory school. This +made her percentage just high enough so that if +she should win from Morningside in the final game<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +the Blue Banner would come to her. But could +Excelsior win? That was what every lad there +asked himself.</p> + +<p>It was rumored that Morningside was never in +better shape. Ted Clay, the pitcher, was twirling +in great form it was said, and Sam Morton, as +substitute, was sure to go in for several innings in +the final contest.</p> + +<p>“They say he’s a wonder for a short time,” +Peaches confided to Joe.</p> + +<p>“He is,” frankly admitted our hero. “I know +his style. He can’t last, but he’s good for part +of a game. With him and Ted against us I’m +afraid it’s all up with our chances.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Joe, if you could only play!”</p> + +<p>“I want to as much as you want me, Peaches, +but it’s out of the question.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe if we were to put it up to the doctor—that +we would lose the Blue Banner without you—he’d +let you play.”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t play that way, Peaches—under a +ban. I want vindication—or nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I suppose so—only it’s hard.”</p> + +<p>At last came the night before the final game +with Morningside. There was a spirit of unrest +and a sense of impending disaster abroad in Excelsior. +Every student was talking of it, even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +Hiram and Luke. The latter, for some days +past had not been his usual self, and his crony +could not understand it.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with you, anyhow?” +Hiram asked. “Aren’t you glad we did that +chump Matson up good and brown?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, I don’t know,” answered Luke slowly. +“I didn’t think it would mean that we’d lose +the Blue Banner.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know we are going to lose it?”</p> + +<p>“Of course we are. Morningside will win, +with no good pitcher to hold her down, and Joe is +a good pitcher, no matter what hand he had in +getting us out of the nine. I’m sorry I got out +anyhow. I’d like to be on it now.”</p> + +<p>“You’re sorry?” gasped Hiram.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I wouldn’t have resigned only you made +me.”</p> + +<p>“<i>I</i> made you! Say, what’s eating you, anyhow? +You were as hot against Matson and his +crowd as I was.”</p> + +<p>“No, I wasn’t, and while we’re on this subject +I’ll tell you another thing. I’m mighty sorry +I had a hand in that statue business.”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t do anything—Sam and I yanked it +down.”</p> + +<p>“I know, but I put Joe’s telegram there—I’m<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +responsible for him being on probation, so he +can’t play to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you are; eh?” sneered Hiram. “Then +you’d better go tell the doctor that.”</p> + +<p>“By Jove I will!” suddenly exclaimed Luke +with a change of manner. “I haven’t had a decent +night’s sleep since I did it. I am going to +tell. I can’t stand it any longer. I want to see +Excelsior win the Blue Banner. I’m going to +tell the doctor!”</p> + +<p>“Hold on!” Hiram fairly hissed. “If you +squeal I’ll make it so hot for you that you’ll wish +you’d never seen me—and so will Sam.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not afraid! Besides I’m not going to tell +on you—only on myself. I’ll say I put the telegram +there. The doctor can think what he likes +about who pulled down the statue. He can put me +on probation for I won’t tell, but it doesn’t matter, +for I don’t play ball. But that will let Joe play, +and it’s not too late for him to get in shape—in +fact, he’s at top notch, for I saw him practice to-day. +I’m going to tell, and you can do as you like, +Hiram.”</p> + +<p>“I say you shan’t tell. I’ll——”</p> + +<p>But Luke slipped from Hiram’s room, where +the talk had been going on, and made his way to +the doctor’s office.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dr. Fillmore, as may well be imagined, was +surprised to see Luke at that late hour, for it was +past eleven. He laid aside a book on the immortal +Cæsar, looked over his glasses at the conscience-stricken +lad, and asked in his kind voice:</p> + +<p>“Well, Fodick, what is it?”</p> + +<p>“I—I—Doctor Fillmore, I’ve come to—confess. +I put that telegram by the statue. Joe +Matson didn’t do it. He dropped it—I picked it +up. He had nothing to do with pulling down the +statue and doesn’t know who did it. But he’s got +to play ball to-morrow or we’ll lose the Blue +Banner again. I’m the guilty one, Doctor—not +of pulling the statue down—I won’t tell who did +that, no matter what you do to me. But I want +Joe to play. Oh, I—I couldn’t stand it any longer. +I haven’t slept, and—and——”</p> + +<p>Poor Luke burst into a fit of weeping—hot, passionate +tears of real sorrow—the best thing he +had done in many a long day—and Dr. Fillmore, +understanding a boy’s heart as few heads of +schools do, put his big arm over Luke’s shoulder. +Thus was the confession made, and of its effect +you shall soon hear.</p> + +<p>That night Luke slept soundly.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX</a></h2> + +<h3>A GLORIOUS VICTORY</h3> + + +<p>It was the morning of the day of the big game—the +final contest between Morningside and +Excelsior for the possession of the Blue Banner. +So far the two nines were tied as regards their +percentage of victories, and the banner would go +to whoever won the diamond battle on this occasion.</p> + +<p>Dr. Fillmore, after hearing Luke’s confession, +had sent a messenger to Joe’s room with instructions +to see if our hero and Tom were asleep. +The apartment was in darkness and quiet reigned +when the messenger listened, so he reported that +both lads were slumbering. But he was not altogether +right, for Joe tossed restlessly on his pillow +and thought bitterly of the morrow.</p> + +<p>“Well, as long as he is asleep,” remarked the +good doctor to the coach whom he had summoned, +“we won’t tell him the good news until to-morrow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +He’ll need his rest if he is to pitch against Morningside.”</p> + +<p>“Then you’re going to remove the probation +ban, Dr. Fillmore?” asked Dr. Rudden eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Of course. I shall make the announcement at +chapel, and wish Matson and the others of the +nine all success.”</p> + +<p>“And you don’t yet know who pulled down the +statue?”</p> + +<p>“No. It was manly of Fodick to confess, and +though I shall have to suspend him, of course, I +didn’t even ask him to inform on the guilty ones. +I really couldn’t, you know.”</p> + +<p>“No, I suppose not. But I’m glad Joe is going +to play. I think we shall win.”</p> + +<p>“I hope so,” murmured Dr. Fillmore.</p> + +<p>The surprise and gratification of the students +may easily be surmised when the next morning at +chapel, Dr. Fillmore made his announcement, stating +that Joe had been on probation under a misapprehension, +and that now the ban was removed +he could play ball.</p> + +<p>“And I hope that he and the others of the +nine play their very best,” concluded the head of +the school, “and win!”</p> + +<p>There was a spontaneous cheer, and neither the +doctor nor any of the teachers took the trouble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +to stop it. Joe’s face was burning red, his heart +was thumping like a trip hammer, but he was the +happiest lad in school.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s great! Glorious! I can’t talk! +Whoop!” yelled Teeter, once out of chapel, as he +balanced himself on his toes.</p> + +<p>“Say, old man, it’s too good to be true!” cried +Peaches, yelling and capering about until his usually +fair complexion was like that of a beet.</p> + +<p>“We’ll make Morningside look like thirty +cents!” declared Tom.</p> + +<p>“Come on, you and Ward get in all the practice +you can,” ordered Peaches.</p> + +<p>The game was to be played on the Morningside +diamond, this having been decided by lot, the +choice having fallen to the rivals of Excelsior.</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ll beat ’em on their own grounds!” +declared Peaches, when he and the others of the +nine, with some substitutes, and a host of “rooters” +and supporters, departed for the contest.</p> + +<p>What a crowd was there to see! What hosts +of pretty girls! Men and women, too; old graduates, +students from both schools, many from other +schools in the league, for this was the wind-up +of the season.</p> + +<p>Out on the diamond trotted the Morningside +nine, to be greeted with a roar of cheers. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +began practice at once, and it was noticed that +Sam Morton was “warming up.”</p> + +<p>“They’re going to use two pitchers all right,” +observed Tommy Barton. “Guess they heard +that Joe was going to be on deck again.”</p> + +<p>A noisy welcome awaited the Excelsior nine as +they trotted out, and they, too, began batting and +catching practice. Then, after a little delay and +the submitting of batting orders, the details were +completed, and once again the umpire gave his +stirring call:</p> + +<p>“Play ball!”</p> + +<p>Morningside was to bat last and so George +Bland was the first of the Excelsior players to +face Pitcher Clay. The two nines were the same +as had met a few weeks previously.</p> + +<p>“Play ball!” called the umpire again, and the +game was on.</p> + +<p>It was a memorable battle. They talk of it to +this day at Excelsior and Morningside. For three +innings neither side got a run, goose eggs going +up in regular succession until, as is generally the +case “pitchers’ fight” began to be heard spoken +on the stands and side lines. And truly it was +rather that way. Both Joe Matson and Ted Clay +were at their best, and man after man fanned the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +air helplessly, or stood while the umpire called +strikes on them.</p> + +<p>But there had to be a break, and it came in the +fourth inning. In their half of that Excelsior +again had to retire without a run, and the four +circles looked rather strange on the score board.</p> + +<p>Then something happened. Joe was delivering +a puzzling drop, but his hand slipped, the curve +broke at the wrong moment and the batter hit it +for three bases. That looked like the beginning +of the end for a little while, as the Morningside +lads seemed to have struck a winning streak and +they had three runs to their credit when Joe, after +having struck two men out, caught a hot liner +himself and retired the third man.</p> + +<p>“Three to nothing,” murmured Captain Ward +as his men came in to bat again. “It looks bad—looks +bad.”</p> + +<p>“That will only give us an appetite,” declared +Joe. “You’ll see,” and it did seem as if he were a +prophet, for the rivals of Morningside, evidently +on desperation bent, “found” Ted Clay, rapped +out five runs, putting them two ahead, and then +the crowd went wild.</p> + +<p>So did Joe and his mates. They fairly danced +as they took the field again; danced and shouted,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +even jumping over each other in the exuberance +of their joy.</p> + +<p>“We’ve got ’em going! We’ve got ’em going!” +they yelled.</p> + +<p>Glumly, and almost in a daze, the Morningside +players looked at the figures. Their rivals were +two ahead in the fifth inning and Baseball Joe, the +pitcher on whom so much depended, was “as +fresh as a daisy,” as Tom declared.</p> + +<p>“But we haven’t won the game by a whole +lot!” warned Captain Ward to his enthusiastic +lads. “Play hard—play hard!”</p> + +<p>Morningside managed to get one run in their +half of the fifth, but when Excelsior came up for +her stick-work again she easily demonstrated her +superiority over the other lads. Four runs went +to her credit, and only one to the rival team, and +then, as Peaches said, “it was all over but the +shouting.”</p> + +<p>“The game is in the ice box now, all right,” +Teeter added.</p> + +<p>And so it was. Two runs for Excelsior in the +seventh to one for her opponent; four in the +eighth, while Joe held the enemy hitless in their +half of that inning, brought the score to the tally +of fifteen to six in favor of our friends.</p> + +<p>“Let’s make it an even 20 fellows!” proposed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +Teeter when they came to have their last raps in +the ninth. “We can do it!”</p> + +<p>“Sure!” his mates assured him, and it did seem +possible, for Morningside appeared to have gone +to pieces. Ted Clay was being batted all over the +field, his support was poor, while the Morningside +lads could not seem to find the ball.</p> + +<p>In desperation, that last inning, Sam Morton +was sent in, and he faced Joe with a scowl on his +face. But Sam could not stem the winning tide, +and he was batted for five runs, making the even +twenty.</p> + +<p>“Now, hold ’em down, Joe—don’t let ’em get +a run!” urged Teeter, when Morningside prepared +to take her last chance to retrieve her falling +fortunes.</p> + +<p>And Joe did. Amid a riot of cheers he struck +three men out in quick succession, and a final goose +egg went up in the last frame, the score reading:</p> + +<p>Excelsior, 20; Morningside, 6.</p> + +<p>“The Blue Banner is ours! The Blue Banner +comes back where it belongs!” yelled Joe, and +then, amid a silence, the banner was taken from +in front of the Morningside stand, where it had +flaunted in the breeze, and presented to Captain +Ward Gerard, who proudly marched about the +diamond with it at the head of his victorious lads.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX</a></h2> + +<h3>GOOD NEWS—CONCLUSION</h3> + + +<p>There were the usual cheers first by the victors +and then by the vanquished, and it would be hard +to say which were the heartiest. For Morningside +was a good loser and next to a well-beaten +rival, she loved a staunch victorious one.</p> + +<p>“You fellows certainly did us up good and +proper—the worst beating we ever got,” admitted +Captain Dalton to Ward.</p> + +<p>“That’s what we came here for,” was the +reply. “It was Joe’s twirling that did it.”</p> + +<p>“Get out!” cried the modest pitcher.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that certainly held us down,” went on +Dalton. “We couldn’t seem to find you. I’ll +need some new pitchers next season, I guess, for +you certainly batted Ted and Sam all over. But +I’m not kicking. How are you fixed for next year, +Joe? Don’t you want to come to Morningside?” +and he laughed.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” answered our hero. “I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +haven’t quite made up my mind what I shall do. +I’m going to play ball, I know that much, anyhow.”</p> + +<p>“I should think you would—any fellow who +can twirl the horsehide as you can. Well, might +as well get off these togs,” spoke Dalton. “I +won’t need ’em here any more this season, though +I’m going to join some amateur team for the vacation +if I can.”</p> + +<p>The cheering and yelling kept up for some time; +and then with the glorious Blue Banner, that +meant so much to them in their possession, the +Excelsior Hall lads started back for the school.</p> + +<p>“So you don’t know what you are going to do +next season, eh, Joe?” asked Tom, as he and his +chum were riding back. “I thought you’d stick +on here.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’d like to, first rate but I don’t know +how dad’s business is going to be since this second +robbery. I may have to leave school.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I hope not. So they haven’t any trace +of the missing papers and models?”</p> + +<p>“Not according to what I last heard. I’m going +to get on the trail of that scamp, Holdney, +this vacation, though.”</p> + +<p>As might have been guessed, there was a big +banquet for the baseball team that night. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +such a spread as it was, held in the big gymnasium. +Every player came in for his share of praise, and +there was so much of it for Joe; and his health +was drunk in soda and ginger ale so often that his +complexion was like that of Peaches’—red and +white by turns. But nearly everyone felt that he +deserved all the nice things that were said about +him, not only for his share in the victory, but for +what he had suffered.</p> + +<p>There were two absentees at the banquet—and +only two. One was Hiram Shell and the other +Luke Fodick. Luke humbly told Dr. Fillmore +that he thought it best to leave the school after +what had happened. The good doctor thought +so, too, for it would have been hard for Luke to +live down what he had done.</p> + +<p>As for Hiram, he said nothing, but when he +knew that Luke had made his confession, the bully, +after using harsh language to his former crony, +quietly packed his things and went also. He sent +word to Sam, at Morningside, that “the jig” was +up, and there was a pre-vacation vacancy on the +books of that institution.</p> + +<p>It was never definitely stated who had pulled +down the statue, but the withdrawal of Hiram, +Luke and Sam was confession enough.</p> + +<p>It was in the midst of the banquet, when Joe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +had been called upon to respond to the toast, +“The Baseball Nine,” that a messenger was seen +to enter with a telegram.</p> + +<p>“It’s for Joe Matson,” the boy announced +loudly enough for all to hear. “Gee, but he’s de +stuff; eh? I’d like to shake hands wit a pitcher +like dat! I’m goin’ t’ be one mysel’ some day. +Here’s de tick-tick, sport,” and he passed the +message to Joe, at the same time regarding our +hero with worshipful eyes.</p> + +<p>Joe read the message at a glance, and a change +came over his face.</p> + +<p>“No bad news, I hope,” murmured Tom, who +stood near him.</p> + +<p>“No, it’s the very best!” cried the young +pitcher, and he showed Tom the telegram. “I +wired dad that we’d won the game,” Joe stated.</p> + +<p>Mr. Matson said in his telegram:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Best of congratulations. Models and papers +recovered. Everything all right.”</p></div> + +<p>“Hurray!” yelled Tom, waving the message +above his head. “Three cheers for Baseball +Joe!” and, when the cheers had subsided he +briefly informed his mates what the telegram +meant to our hero. Mr. Matson would still retain +his fortune, and probably make more money than +ever out of his patents.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Gee! Dis is great!” murmured the diminutive +messenger, as he listened to the cheers and +watched the jolly crowd of students. “I wish +I was studyin’ here!”</p> + +<p>Joe shook the messenger’s hand and left in it +a crisp bill, to show his appreciation of the good +news the lad had brought. And the toasting, the +cheering and singing went on again.</p> + +<p>“Now you can continue your studies,” said +Tom to Joe.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I suppose so,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“Maybe I’ll even go to college.”</p> + +<p>What were his further fortunes on the diamond +I shall tell you in the next book of this series, to +be called: “Baseball Joe at Yale; or Pitching for +the College Championship.” In that we shall see +him in adventures as strenuous as any he had yet +encountered.</p> + +<p>“One last song, fellows, and then we’ll quit!” +called Peaches. “I want you all to join with me +in singing: ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,’ and +by ‘<i>He</i>’ I mean Joe Matson—Baseball Joe!”</p> + +<p>And as the strains of that ever-jolly, and yet +somewhat sad, song are dying away, we will take +our leave for a time of Baseball Joe and his +friends.</p> + +<p class="p2 noic">THE END</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p class="noi adtitle">THE BASEBALL JOE SERIES</p> + +<p class="noi adauthor"><span class="smcap">By</span> LESTER CHADWICK</p> + +<p class="noic"><i>12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 75 cents, postpaid.</i></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/image05.jpg" width="150" height="231" alt="Baseball Joe" title="Baseball Joe" /> +</div> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>BASEBALL JOE OF THE SILVER STARS</b><br /> +<i>or The Rivals of Riverside</i></p> + +<p>Joe is an everyday country boy who loves +to play baseball and particularly to pitch.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE</b><br /> +<i>or Pitching for the Blue Banner</i></p> + +<p>Joe’s great ambition was to go to boarding +school and play on the school team.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>BASEBALL JOE AT YALE</b><br /> +<i>or Pitching for the College Championship</i></p> + +<p>Joe goes to Yale University. In his second year he becomes a +varsity pitcher and pitches in several big games.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>BASEBALL JOE IN THE CENTRAL LEAGUE</b><br /> +<i>or Making Good as a Professional Pitcher</i></p> + +<p>In this volume the scene of action is shifted from Yale +college to a baseball league of our central states.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>BASEBALL JOE IN THE BIG LEAGUE</b><br /> +<i>or A Young Pitcher’s Hardest Struggles</i></p> + +<p>From the Central League Joe is drafted into the St. Louis +Nationals. A corking baseball story all fans will enjoy.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>BASEBALL JOE ON THE GIANTS</b><br /> +<i>or Making Good as a Twirler in the Metropolis</i></p> + +<p>How Joe was traded to the Giants and became their mainstay +in the box makes an interesting baseball story.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>BASEBALL JOE IN THE WORLD SERIES</b><br /> +<i>or Pitching for the Championship</i></p> + +<p>The rivalry was of course of the keenest, and what Joe did to +win the series is told in a manner to thrill the most jaded reader.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>BASEBALL JOE AROUND THE WORLD</b> (<i>New</i>)<br /> +<i>or Pitching on a Grand Tour</i></p> + +<p>The Giants and the All-Americans tour the world, playing in +many foreign countries.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><i>Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue.</i></p> + +<p class="noic">CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p class="noi adtitle">THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS SERIES</p> + +<p class="noi adauthor">By BROOKS HENDERLEY</p> + +<p class="noic"><b><i>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 75 cents, postpaid.</i></b></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/image06.jpg" width="150" height="216" alt="Y.M.C.A. Boys" title="Y.M.C.A. Boys" /> +</div> + + +<p class="p2"><i>This new series relates the doings of a wide-awake +boys’ club of the Y. M. C. A., full of +good times and every-day, practical Christianity. +Clean, elevating and full of fun and +vigor, books that should be read by every boy.</i></p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS OF +CLIFFWOOD</b><br /> +<i>or The Struggle for the Holwell Prize</i></p> + +<p>Telling how the boys of Cliffwood were a +wild set and how, on Hallowe’en, they +turned the home town topsy-turvy. This +led to an organization of a boys’ department +in the local Y. M. C. A. When the lads +realized what was being done for them, they joined in the movement +with vigor and did all they could to help the good cause.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS ON BASS ISLAND</b><br /> +<i>or The Mystery of Russabaga Camp</i></p> + +<p>Summer was at hand, and at a meeting of the boys of the +Y. M. C. A. of Cliffwood, it was decided that a regular summer +camp should be instituted. This was located at a beautiful spot +on Bass Island, and there the lads went boating, swimming, +fishing and tramping to their heart’s content.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>THE Y. M. C. A. BOYS AT FOOTBALL</b><br /> +<i>or Lively Doings On and Off the Gridiron</i></p> + +<p>This volume will add greatly to the deserved success of this +well-written series. The Y. M. C. A. boys are plucky lads—clean +minded and as true as steel. They have many ups and +downs, but in the end they “win out” in the best meaning +of that term.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><i>Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue.</i></p> + +<p class="noic">CUPPLES & LEON CO. Publishers New York</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p class="noi adauthor"><span class="smcap">Alive</span>, <span class="smcap">Patriotic</span>, <span class="smcap">Elevating</span></p> + +<p class="noi adtitle">BANNER BOY SCOUTS SERIES</p> + +<p class="noi adauthor">By GEORGE A. WARREN<br /> +<span class="noi works">Author of the “Revolutionary Series”</span></p> + +<p class="noic">12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 75 cents, postpaid.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/image07.jpg" width="150" height="230" alt="The Banner Boy Scouts" title="The Banner Boy Scouts" /> +</div> + + +<p class="p2">The Boy Scouts movement has swept +over our country like wildfire, and is endorsed +by our greatest men and leading +educators. No author is better qualified to +write such a series as this than Professor +Warren, who has watched the movement +closely since its inception in England some +years ago.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b><span class="smcap">The Banner Boy Scouts</span></b><br /> +<i>or The Struggle for Leadership</i></p> + +<p>This initial volume tells how the news of the scout movement +reached the boys and how they determined to act on it. +They organized the Fox Patrol, and some rivals organized another +patrol. More patrols were formed in neighboring towns +and a prize was put up for the patrol scoring the most points +in a many-sided contest.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b><span class="smcap">The Banner Boy Scouts On A Tour</span></b><br /> +<i>or The Mystery of Rattlesnake Mountain</i></p> + +<p>This story begins with a mystery that is most unusual. +There is a good deal of fun and adventure, camping, fishing, +and swimming, and the young heroes more than once prove +their worth.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b><span class="smcap">The Banner Boy Scouts Afloat</span></b><br /> +<i>or The Secret of Cedar Island</i></p> + +<p>Here is another tale of life in the open, of jolly times on +river and lake and around the camp fire, told by one who has +camped out for many years.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b><span class="smcap">The Banner Boy Scouts Snowbound</span></b> (<i>New</i>)<br /> +<i>or A Tour on Skates and Iceboats</i></p> + +<p>The boys take a trip into the mountains, where they are +caught in a big snowstorm and are snowbound. A series of +stirring adventures which will hold the interest of every +reader.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><i>Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue.</i></p> + +<p class="noic">CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, New York</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p class="noi adtitle">THE +HARRY HARDING SERIES</p> + +<p class="noi adauthor">By ALFRED RAYMOND</p> + +<p class="noic"><i>12mo. Cloth. Handsomely Illustrated. Beautiful jackets +printed in colors. 75 Cents Per Volume, Postpaid.</i></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/image08.jpg" width="150" height="204" alt="Harry Harding" title="Harry Harding" /> +</div> + + +<p class="p2">The trials and triumphs of Harry Harding +and Teddy Burke, two wide-awake boys +who make a humble beginning on the +messenger force of a great department +store, with the firm resolve to become successful +business men, form a series of +narratives calculated to please the alert, +progressive boys of today.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>HARRY HARDING—<i>Messenger “45”</i></b></p> + +<p>When Harry Harding bravely decided to leave school in order +to help his mother in the fight against poverty, he took his first +long step towards successful manhood. How Harry chanced to +meet mischievous, red-haired Teddy Burke who preferred work +to school, how Teddy and Harry became messengers in Martin +Brothers’ Department store and what happened to them there, +is a story that never flags in interest.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>HARRY HARDING’S YEAR OF PROMISE</b></p> + +<p>After a blissful two weeks’ vacation, spent together, Harry +Harding and Teddy Burke again take up their work in Martin +Brothers’ store. Their “year of promise” brings them many +new experiences, pleasant and unpleasant, but more determined +than ever to reach the goal they have set for themselves, they +pass courageously and hopefully over the rough places, meeting +with many surprises and exciting incidents which advance them +far on the road to success.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><i>Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue.</i></p> + +<p class="noic">CUPPLES & LEON CO. Publishers New York</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p class="noi adtitle"><span class="smcap">The Webster Series</span></p> + +<p class="noi adauthor">By FRANK V. WEBSTER</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/image09.jpg" width="150" height="215" alt="Webster series" title="Webster series" /> +</div> + + +<p class="p2">Mr. Webster’s style is very much like +that of the boys’ favorite author, the late +lamented Horatio Alger, Jr., but his tales +are thoroughly up-to-date.</p> + +<p>Cloth. 12mo. Over 200 pages each. Illustrated. +Stamped in various colors.</p> + +<p class="noic">Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.</p> + +<p class="p2 noi illpage"> +Only A Farm Boy<br /> +<i>or Dan Hardy’s Rise in Life</i><br /> +<br /> +The Boy From The Ranch<br /> +<i>or Roy Bradner’s City Experiences</i><br /> +<br /> +The Young Treasure Hunter<br /> +<i>or Fred Stanley’s Trip to Alaska</i><br /> +<br /> +The Boy Pilot of the Lakes<br /> +<i>or Nat Morton’s Perils</i><br /> +<br /> +Tom The Telephone Boy<br /> +<i>or The Mystery of a Message</i><br /> +<br /> +Bob The Castaway<br /> +<i>or The Wreck of the Eagle</i><br /> +<br /> +The Newsboy Partners<br /> +<i>or Who Was Dick Box?</i><br /> +<br /> +Two Boy Gold Miners<br /> +<i>or Lost in the Mountains</i><br /> +<br /> +The Young Firemen of Lakeville<br /> +<i>or Herbert Dare’s Pluck</i><br /> +<br /> +The Boys of Bellwood School<br /> +<i>or Frank Jordan’s Triumph</i><br /> +<br /> +Jack the Runaway<br /> +<i>or On the Road with a Circus</i><br /> +<br /> +Bob Chester’s Grit<br /> +<i>or From Ranch to Riches</i><br /> +<br /> +Airship Andy<br /> +<i>or The Luck of a Brave Boy</i><br /> +<br /> +High School Rivals<br /> +<i>or Fred Markham’s Struggles</i><br /> +<br /> +Darry The Life Saver<br /> +<i>or The Heroes of the Coast</i><br /> +<br /> +Dick The Bank Boy<br /> +<i>or A Missing Fortune</i><br /> +<br /> +Ben Hardy’s Flying Machine<br /> +<i>or Making a Record for Himself</i><br /> +<br /> +Harry Watson’s High School Days<br /> +<i>or The Rivals of Rivertown</i><br /> +<br /> +Comrades of the Saddle<br /> +<i>or The Young Rough Riders of the Plains</i><br /> +<br /> +Tom Taylor at West Point<br /> +<i>or The Old Army Officer’s Secret</i><br /> +<br /> +The Boy Scouts of Lennox<br /> +<i>or Hiking Over Big Bear Mountain</i><br /> +<br /> +The Boys of the Wireless<br /> +<i>or A Stirring Rescue from the Deep</i><br /> +<br /> +Cowboy Dave<br /> +<i>or The Round-up at Rolling River</i><br /> +<br /> +Jack of the Pony Express<br /> +<i>or The Young Rider of the Mountain Trail</i><br /> +<br /> +The Boys of the Battleship<br /> +<i>or For the Honor of Uncle Sam</i><br /> +</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic">CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p class="noi adtitle">THE BOYS’ OUTING LIBRARY</p> + +<p class="noic"><i>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full color.<br /> +Price, per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.</i></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/image10.jpg" width="150" height="216" alt="The Saddle Boys" title="The Saddle Boys" /> +</div> + + +<div class="illpage"> +<p class="p2 noi"><b>THE SADDLE BOYS SERIES</b></p> + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">By CAPT. JAMES CARSON</span></p> + +<p class="noi"> +The Saddle Boys of the Rockies<br /> +The Saddle Boys in the Grand Canyon<br /> +The Saddle Boys on the Plains<br /> +The Saddle Boys at Circle Ranch<br /> +The Saddle Boys on Mexican Trails<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="p2 noi"><b>THE DAVE DASHAWAY SERIES</b></p> + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">By ROY ROCKWOOD</span></p> + +<p class="noi"> +Dave Dashaway the Young Aviator<br /> +Dave Dashaway and His Hydroplane<br /> +Dave Dashaway and His Giant Airship<br /> +Dave Dashaway Around the World<br /> +Dave Dashaway: Air Champion<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="p2 noi"><b>THE SPEEDWELL BOYS SERIES</b></p> + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">By ROY ROCKWOOD</span></p> + +<p class="noi"> +The Speedwell Boys on Motorcycles<br /> +The Speedwell Boys and Their Racing Auto<br /> +The Speedwell Boys and Their Power Launch<br /> +The Speedwell Boys in a Submarine<br /> +The Speedwell Boys and Their Ice Racer<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="p2 noi"><b>THE TOM FAIRFIELD SERIES</b></p> + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">By ALLEN CHAPMAN</span></p> + +<p class="noi"> +Tom Fairfield’s School Days<br /> +Tom Fairfield at Sea<br /> +Tom Fairfield in Camp<br /> +Tom Fairfield’s Pluck and Luck<br /> +Tom Fairfield’s Hunting Trip<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="p2 noi"><b>THE FRED FENTON ATHLETIC SERIES</b></p> + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">By ALLEN CHAPMAN</span></p> + +<p class="noi"> +Fred Fenton the Pitcher<br /> +Fred Fenton in the Line<br /> +Fred Fenton on the Crew<br /> +Fred Fenton on the Track<br /> +Fred Fenton: Marathon Runner<br /> +</p> +</div> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><i>Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue.</i></p> + +<p class="noic">CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p class="noi adtitle">THE KHAKI BOYS SERIES</p> + +<p class="noi adauthor"><span class="smcap">By CAPT. GORDON BATES</span></p> + +<p class="noic"><i>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full color.</i></p> + +<p class="noic"><b><i>Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.</i></b></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/image11.jpg" width="150" height="206" alt="The Khaki Boys" title="The Khaki Boys" /> +</div> + + +<p class="p2"><i>All who love the experiences and adventures +of our American boys, fighting for the +freedom of democracy in the world, will be +delighted with these vivid and true-to-life +stories of the camp and field in the great +war.</i></p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>THE KHAKI BOYS AT CAMP STERLING</b><br /> +<i>or Training for the Big Fight in France</i></p> + +<p>Two zealous young patriots volunteer and +begin their military training. On the train +going to camp they meet two rookies with +whom they become chums. Together they +get into a baffling camp mystery that develops +into an extraordinary spy-plot. They defeat the enemies +of their country and incidentally help one another to +promotion both in friendship and service.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>THE KHAKI BOYS ON THE WAY</b><br /> +<i>or Doing Their Bit on Sea and Land</i></p> + +<p>Our soldier boys having completed their training at Camp Sterling +are transferred to a Southern cantonment from which they +are finally sent aboard a troop-ship for France. On the trip +their ship is sunk by a U-boat and their adventures are +realistic descriptions of the tragedies of the sea.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>THE KHAKI BOYS AT THE FRONT</b><br /> +<i>or Shoulder to Shoulder in the Trenches</i></p> + +<p>The Khaki Boys reach France, and, after some intensive training +in sound of the battle front, are sent into the trenches. In +the raids across No-Man’s land, they have numerous tragic adventures +that show what great work is being performed by our +soldiers. It shows what makes heroes.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><i>Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue.</i></p> + +<p class="noic">CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p class="noi adtitle">THE KHAKI GIRLS SERIES</p> + +<p class="noi adauthor"><span class="smcap">By EDNA BROOKS</span></p> + +<p class="noic"><i>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Jacket in full colors.</i></p> + +<p class="noic"><b><i>Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.</i></b></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/image12.jpg" width="150" height="205" alt="The Khaki Girls" title="The Khaki Girls" /> +</div> + + +<p class="p2"><i>When Uncle Sam sent forth the ringing +call, “I need you!” it was not alone his +strong young sons who responded. All over +the United States capable American girls +stood ready to offer their services to their +country. How two young girls donned the +khaki and made good in the Motor Corps, +an organization for women developed by +the Great War, forms a series of stories of +signal novelty and vivid interest and action.</i></p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>THE KHAKI GIRLS OF THE MOTOR CORPS</b><br /> +<i>or Finding Their Place in the Big War</i></p> + +<p>Joan Mason, an enthusiastic motor girl, and Valerie Warde, a +society debutante, meet at an automobile show. Next day they +go together to the Motor Corps headquarters and in due time are +accepted and become members of the Corps, in the service of +the United States. The two girl drivers find motoring for +Uncle Sam a most exciting business. Incidentally they are +instrumental in rendering valuable service to the United +States government by discovering and running down a secret +organization of its enemies.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><b>THE KHAKI GIRLS BEHIND THE LINES</b><br /> +<i>or Driving with the Ambulance Corps</i></p> + +<p>As a result of their splendid work in the Motor Corps, the +Khaki Girls receive the honor of an opportunity to drive with the +Ambulance Corps in France. After a most eventful and hazardous +crossing of the Atlantic, they arrive in France and are assigned +to a station behind the lines. Constantly within range of +enemy shrapnel, out in all kinds of weather, tearing over shell-torn +roads and dodging Boche patrols, all go to make up the day’s +work, and bring them many exciting adventures.</p> + + +<p class="p2 noic"><i>Send For Our Free Illustrated Catalogue.</i></p> + +<p class="noic">CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers New York</p> + + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class="tnote"> +<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes:</p> + +<p>List of Illustrations added.</p> + +<p>Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.</p> + +<p>Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.</p> + +<p>Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p> + +<p>Normalized instances of “Lakeville” (p. 180, p. 181) to the more +frequent “Lakeview” Preparatory Institute.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Baseball Joe on the School Nine, by Lester Chadwick + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BASEBALL JOE ON THE SCHOOL NINE *** + +***** This file should be named 38897-h.htm or 38897-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/8/9/38897/ + +Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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