The New Boys at Oakdale Part 4

"Oh, why can't I do something like that?" cried Cooper. "It makes my solitary little tap look like ten below zero, and I always get cold feet in that sort of weather."

Nevertheless, he faced Lefty Leach like a chap exuding confidence from every pore. Leach was frowning and savage in his bearing, but Chipper returned the Wyndham pitcher's dark look with a cheerful smile, threatening to start the st.i.tches in the horsehide if Lefty dared to put one over.

The thunderstruck and dismayed Wyndham crowd awoke from its benumbed condition and resumed cheering, although there was plainly a disheartened note in the volume of sound, something which the players themselves must have recognized. On the other hand, the Oakdale spectators were once more jubilant with restored confidence in their team and the conviction that Crane's wonderful wallop had practically decided the result.

Despite Cooper's aggressive att.i.tude of a.s.surance, Leach unhesitatingly slanted the ball across and continued to do so while the Oakdale shortstop rapped out foul after foul.

"You'll get him in a minute," encouraged Baxter. "He never was any good with the war-club."

Much to Cooper's sorrow, this prophecy came true, for Chipper finally hoisted a short one back of first for Turner, the baseman, to gather in.

"Only three more men, Grant," said Nelson. "Get them, and we hang up a scalp."

"I'll sure do it if it's in me," whispered the Texan to himself, as he made his way to the diamond.

Baxter rushed to the bench to have a few words with his players.

"Don't be too eager, fellows," he cautioned; "and still, don't let him sneak any good ones across. He's pitching for his life now, but he'll try to pull you all. If you can start us going, Foxy, we'll crawl out of this hole right here."

Making no retort, Foxhall stepped into the batters' box and watched the Oakdale pitcher make the situation more difficult for himself by failing to find the pan with the first two pitches. An in-shoot followed, and, remembering Baxter's words, Foxhall picked it off the inside corner with a sharp swing that sent it gra.s.s-cutting ten feet inside of third.

Roy Hooker, who was filling Osgood's position, was not an infielder, and, although he leaped in front of the ball, he failed to keep his feet together, which allowed the humming sphere to go through him cleanly.

"Ha! Look a' that!" cried Shultz, giving Osgood a nudge. "That would never have happened if you'd been there."

"Don't make comparisons-don't," said Osgood quickly. "They are odious.

He's going to stretch it into a double."

Sent onward by the coacher, Foxhall raced over the initial sack and stretched himself for second. It chanced, however, that Sleuth Piper was in position to back Hooker up, and, rus.h.i.+ng forward, he took the ball on a favorable bound and threw it to second while still in his stride. It was one of the cleanest pieces of fielding, and perhaps the best throw, Piper had ever made in his baseball career, for it came straight into the hands of Nelson, who disregarded the dangerous spikes of the sliding runner and tagged Foxhall so cleanly and effectively that the locals had not the slightest excuse for a kick on the decision of "out."

"Well, wouldn't that cramp you!" muttered Shultz disgustedly. "Why in thunder did the man try to make a double of it?"

"Once more," said Osgood, "I must caution you not to show your feelings so plainly. Even if we're benched, we're still members of the team and--"

"I don't know whether _I_ am or not," rasped the resentful Shultz. "I don't propose to play on any team where I'm handed a raw deal by a thing like Jack Nelson."

"Now look here," said his companion, "you'll stick on the team unless you're fired off it, for as members of the nine we'll have more pull with the bunch than otherwise. You're too brash, Charley. You haven't any policy or subtleness. Don't think for a minute that I'm not just as sore as you, but as injured yet still loyal Oakdalers we can win more sympathy than by open rebellion."

"I s'pose you're right," admitted Shultz; "but I never could control myself the way you can."

That the Wyndham boys realized how desperate the situation was became manifest through an undisguised quarrel which now arose between Foxhall and two of his teammates who attempted to criticize him.

"What's the matter with you?" snapped the bitterly disappointed chap.

"Pelty sent me down. Chew the rag with him if you're going to jump on any one. How'd I know that fielder was in position to back up and get the ball to second so soon?"

"Cut that out, all of you," interposed Baxter. "Stop fussing and play ball. This game isn't over yet."

"But it's pretty well over," cried Cooper gleefully. "It's all over but the shouting."

Cohen, who seemed never troubled by a weak heart, predicted that he would get a hit and begged Wolcott to advance him with a duplicate. Then the nervy young Hebrew stood forth and demonstrated that he had a good eye by refusing to bite at the coaxers and compelling Grant to put the pill across. When this was done, he hit it hard and fair, the resounding crack bringing a shout from the Wyndham crowd.

That shout was abruptly cut short when Cooper shot into the air and pulled Cohen's drive down with one hand. From the opposite side of the field burst the sudden relieved shrieks of the Oakdalers, whose hearts had been choking them an instant before.

"Keep quiet, Charley," said Osgood, placing a hand on his friend's knee.

"It looks like it's really all over. Take your cue from me and pretend you're happy."

"You're asking just a bit too much, Ned," said Shultz huskily. "You know I'm a poor bluffer in any kind of a game."

"But you're usually lucky, just the same; I've seen you hold some great cards."

"Some catch, Chipper-some catch," Grant was saying happily. "You raked the clouds for that one."

"I had to do something to make up for my last raw play," returned the beaming little chap.

Nelson was laughing. "We're backing you up now, Rodney, old boy. That kind of support ought to give you courage to take a fall out of Wolcott."

To tell the truth, although he made a pretense of being undismayed and confident, there was really little hope left in Wolcott's heart.

Nevertheless, it was always Wyndham's way to play a game out without let-up, and the batter showed that he was trying for a hit by fouling the ball several times. Presently, however, the Texan deceived him with one of his most effective drops, and Wolcott's fruitless slice at the air brought the game to an end with the score 4 to 3 in Oakdale's favor.

CHAPTER V

THE DIPLOMACY OF OSGOOD.

Shultz sullenly watched his teammates giving the losers a complimentary cheer; he could not take his cue from Osgood and join with the slightest pretense of rejoicing in this cheering. And when the happy players gathered up their trappings and started for the adjacent academy, where in the bas.e.m.e.nt gymnasium the Wyndhamites had given them a room in which to change their clothes, Shultz trailed along behind, listening with persistent bitterness to the chattering fellows who were still rejoicing over the result.

"Oh, Craney!" cried Cooper, as he playfully banged Sile with an open hand. "That measly little tap of yours in the last round was certainly a soporific wallop."

"Here, yeou better let Sleuth slaughter the language that fas.h.i.+on,"

grinned Crane. "Soporific! What's it mean, anyhaow?"

"Why, soothing, sleep-producing; it's what a prize-fighter hands his antagonist when he gives him a two-ton jolt on the point of the jaw. It put Wyndham down and out, all right."

"Oh, that didn't end the game by a long shot. If old Texas hadn't pitched some in the last half--"

"Great centipedes!" interrupted Grant. "If you fellows hadn't given me Big League support they'd corralled the game after all. The way you raked down Cohen's drive was sure some playing. And that little turn by Piper plugged their promising start right handsomely."

"I was frightened when Hooker let Foxhall's grounder get through him,"

declared Ned Osgood; "but Sleuth was right on the job. It was a splendid victory."

Jack Nelson shot the speaker a quizzical glance, but said nothing.

In the gymnasium they continued to discuss the game while peeling off their soiled uniforms and getting into the heavy clothes which would be so necessary to their comfort on the long homeward drive; and, unable to keep still, Shultz cut in with an occasional sarcastic remark. For a time no one seemed to notice him, but suddenly Grant, unable to hold himself longer in restraint, turned on the disgruntled fellow.

"Quit your beefing," he exclaimed. "Why don't you try to follow Osgood's trail and make a pretense of being decent, whether you feel that way or not?"