The High School Pitcher Part 29

The attendance, that day, was nearly three thousand. Gardiner had sent a delegation of nearly one-tenth of this number.

Before three o'clock the band began to play. Whenever the musicians launched into a popular baseball ditty the crowd joined with the words.

"Prescott is going to pitch!"

"No, he isn't."

"The word has just been pa.s.sed around. Besides, his name's down on the score card."

"The score cards were printed yesterday."

Finally, curiosity could stand it no longer. A committee left the grand stand to go toward the dressing rooms building. But a policeman waved them back.

"None but players and officials allowed in there," declared the officer.

"We want to find out whether Prescott is going to pitch," urged the spokesman.

"I heard something about that," admitted the policeman.

"What was it? Quick!"

"Let me see. Oh! Prescott wants to pitch; the coach is half willing, but the doctor ain't certain."

This was the best they could do, so the committee returned to their seats. But nothing was settled.

At three-twenty, just as the band ceased playing, the compact bunch of Gardiner fans sent up the yell:

"Here they come! Our fellows! The only ones!"

Using their privilege as visiting team, the Gardiner players were now filing on to the field for a little warming-up practice.

"Throw him down, McCluskey!" tooted the band, derisively. But the cheers from the wild Gardiner fans nearly drowned out the instrumental racket. Quickly the visitors had a practice ball in motion. Now the home fans waited breathlessly.

At last the band played again. "See the Conquering Hero Comes!"

Gridley High School, natty and clean looking in their gray and black uniforms, with black stockings, caps and belts, came out on the field. Instantly there was craning of necks to see if Prescott were among the players.

"There he is!" yelled one of the High School fans. "There's our d.i.c.k! Wow!"

Cheering went up from every Gridley seat. The bleachers contributed a bedlam of noise. "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow!" blared forth the band. Girls and women stood up, waving fans, handkerchiefs, banners. Another round of cheering started. d.i.c.k walked quietly, looking neither to right nor left. Yet the boy was wondering, in astonishment, if kings usually got such a welcome.

By the time the cheering had ceased, Fred Ripley, also in uniform, strolled out and walked toward the sub bench.

A hiss greeted Ripley. It was not loud, nor insistent, and presently died out. But Fred went as white as a sheet, then, with eyes cast downward, he dropped to his seat at the end of the sub bench.

His chest heaved, for the greeting had unnerved him.

"I wonder why I usually get that sort of thing, while that fellow Prescott has a band to play him in," muttered Fred.

The bulk of the audience was now quiet, while the three hundred visiting fans roared out one of their school yells.

Then followed a noisy whooping of the Gridley High School yell.

Coach Luce had walked over to a post behind the sub bench.

Umpire Foley, his mask dangling from his left hand, now summoned Purcell and the Gardiner captain. A coin spun up in the air.

Gardiner's diamond chieftain won the toss, and chose first chance at the bat. Purcell's men scattered to their fielding posts, while the young captain of the home team fastened on his catcher's mask.

The umpire took a ball from its package, inspected it, then tossed it to d.i.c.k Prescott, who stood in the box awaiting it. There was a moment's tense expectation, followed by the command that set all the real fans wild:

"_Play ball_!"

Gardiner High School had put up a husky young giant who stood beside the plate, a confident grin on his face as he swung the bat.

d.i.c.k moistened his fingers. The batsman saw that, and guessed what was coming. He didn't guess quite low enough, however, for, though he stooped and swung the stick lower, the ball went under it by three inches.

"Strike one!" called Mr. Foley, judicially.

An imperceptible signal told Purcell what was coming next. Then it came---a jump ball. This time Gardiner's batsman aimed low enough but it proved to be a jump ball.

"Strike two!"

A howl of glee went up from all quarters, save from the Gardiner visitors.

Again d.i.c.k signaled. His third was altogether different---a bewildering out-curve. Gardiner's batsman didn't offer, but Purcell caught the leather neatly.

"Strike three, and out! One out!" announced the umpire.

"Whoop!" The joy from the home fans was let loose. With a disgusted look, Gardiner's man slouched back to the players' bench.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE GRIT OF THE GRAND OLD GAME

In that half of the inning it was one, two, three---down and out!

Even Fred Ripley found himself gasping with admiration of Prescott's wonderfully true pitching.

Yet the joy of the home fans was somewhat curbed when Gridley went to bat and her third man struck out after two of the nine had reached bases.

So the first inning closed without score. Gardiner had found that Gridley was "good," and the latter realized that even young Prescott's pitching could not do it all.

The first five innings went off quickly, neither side scoring.

"It'll be a tie at dark," sighed some of the fans.