Dick Prescotts's Fourth Year at West Point Part 33

"He was in Coventry."

"Pshaw!"

"Didn't you know that?" asked Denton.

"Not a word of it, though Durville once hinted to me that there was some sort of reason why Prescott couldn't come in."

"There was---the Coventry," Denton replied. "But that trouble blew over when the first cla.s.smen found themselves wrong in something of which Jordan had accused Prescott."

"Humph!" growled Lieutenant Lawrence, in keen displeasure. "Then, if we lose to-day, the first cla.s.s can blame itself!"

"You think our battery pair better than the Navy's, then?" asked Lieutenant Denton.

"Our men would have been better, by a shade, anyway, had they been as long in training. But as it is-----"

"As it is," supplied another officer in the group, "we are wiped off the slate by the Navy, this year, and no one can know it better than we do ourselves."

Just as the fortunes of war would have it, Dan Dalzell again stood by the plate at the beginning of the eighth.

"Wipe off that smile, Danny boy," called Darrin softly.

But Dan only shook his head with a deepening grin which seemed to declare that he found the Navy situation all to the good.

In fact, Dalzell felt such a friendly contempt for poor old d.i.c.k's form by this time, that he cheerily offered at d.i.c.k's first.

Crack! That ball arched up for right field, and Dan, hurling his bat, started to make tracks and time. Beckwith, however, was out in right field, and knew what was expected of him. He ran in under that dropping ball, held out his hands and gathered it in.

d.i.c.k smiled quietly, almost imperceptibly, while Dan strolled mournfully back to the bench. Then Prescott turned, bent on annihilating his good old friend Darrin, if possible. In great disgust, Dave struck out. The look on the Navy fan's faces could be interpreted only as saying:

"Oh, well, we don't need runs, anyway!"

But when Hutchins struck out---one, two, three!---after as many offers, Navy faces began to look more grave.

"Hold 'em down, Navy---hold 'em down!" rang the appeal from Navy seats when the Army went to bat in the eighth.

d.i.c.k was first at bat now, with Greg on deck. As Prescott swung the willow and eyed Darrin, there was "blood" in the Army pitcher's eyes.

Then Darrin gave a sudden gasp, for, at his first delivery, d.i.c.k sized up the ball, located it, and punched it. That ball dropped in center field just as d.i.c.k was turning the first bag. It sped on, but d.i.c.k turned back from too big a risk.

But he looked at Greg, waiting idly at bat, and Holmes caught the full meaning of that appealing look.

"It's now or never," growled Greg between his teeth. "It's seldom any good to depend at all on the ninth inning."

Darrin, with a full knowledge of what was threatened to the Navy by the present situation, tried his best to rattle Greg. And one strike was called on Holmesy, but the second strike he called himself by some loud talk of bat against leather. Then, while the ball sped into right field, Greg ran after it, stopping, however, at first bag, while Prescott sprinted down to second bag, kicked it slightly, and came back to it.

It was up to Lanton, of the Army, now! In this crisis the Army first baseman either lacked true diamond nerve, or else he could not see Darrin's curves well, for Lanton took the call of two strikes before he was awarded called b.a.l.l.s enough to permit him to lope contentedly away to first. This advanced both d.i.c.k and Greg.

Bases full---no outs! Three runs needed!

This was the throbbing situation that confronted Cadet Carter as he picked up an Army bat and stood by the plate, facing the "wicked" and well-nigh invincible Darrin of the Navy!

CHAPTER XX

THE VIVID FINISH OF THE GAME

On both sides of the field, every one was standing on seats.

Even the cadets had risen to their feet, every man's eye turned on the diamond, while the cadet cheer-master danced up and down, ready to spring the yell of triumph if only Carter and the player on deck could give the chance.

Lieutenant Lawrence wiped his perspiring face and neck. The coach probably suffered more than any other man on the field. It was his work that had prepared for this supreme game of the whole diamond season!

Over at third base Cadet Prescott danced cautiously away, yet every now and then stole nearly back. d.i.c.k was never going to lose a scored run through carelessness.

"Now, good old Carter, can't you?" groaned Durville, as the Army batsman went forward to the plate.

"Durry, I'll come home with my s.h.i.+eld, or on it," muttered Carter, with set teeth and white lips as he went to pick up the bat that he was to swing.

Carter was not one of the best stick men of the Army baseball outfit, but there is sometimes such a thing as batting luck.

For this, Carter prayed under his breath.

Darrin, of course, was determined to baffle this strong-hope man of West Point. He sent in one of his craftiest outshoots. For a wonder, Carter guessed it, and reached out for it---but missed.

"Strike two!" followed almost immediately from the placid's umpire's lips.

Everyone who hoped for the Army was trembling now.

Dan Dalzell did some urgent signaling. In response, Darrin took an extra hard twist around the leather, unwound, unbent and let go.

_Crack_! Batter's luck, and nothing else!

"Carter, Carter, Carter!" broke loose from the mouths of half a thousand gray-clad cadets, and the late anxious batter was sprinting for all there was in him.

Just to right of center field, and past, went the ball---a good old two-bagger for any player that could run.

From third d.i.c.k came in at a good jog, but he did not exert himself.

He had seen how long it must take to get the ball in circulation.

As for Holmes, he hit a faster pace. He turned on steam, just barely touching third as he turned with no thought of letting up this side of the home plate.

Lanton made third---he had to, for Carter was bent on kicking the second bag in time.

Had there been another full second to spare Carter would have made it. But Navy center field judged that it would be far easier to put Carter out than to play that trick on Lanton, since the latter had but ninety feet to run, anyway.

So Carter was out, but Lanton was hanging at third, crazy with eagerness to get in.