Jack Winters' Baseball Team - Mark Overton (best color ereader .txt) 📗

a pretty decent bunch of ball players after all!” declared Phil Parker, who had been known to say a few hard things about the hustling Harmony boys after that first game, in which Jack’s team was given such a lively set-back.

“Glad you’ve found that out, Phil,” remarked Steve Mullane, drily. “Next time don’t be so quick to judge your opponents. Because a chap happens to be a hustler on the baseball or football field, isn’t a sign that he’s anything of a brute in private life. Only the hustlers succeed on the diamond. Umpire-baiters are sometimes the kind of men who are bullied by a little bit of a woman at home.”

“That’s right for you, Steve!” declared Herbert Jones, nodding his head in the affirmative. “I’ve got an uncle who used to be known as a regular scorcher on the gridiron, and who gained the name of a terror; but, say, you ought to see that big hulk wash dishes for Mrs. Jones, who can walk under his arm. Why, in private life he’s as soft as mush, and his fog-horn voice is toned down to almost the squeak of a fiddle when he sings the baby to sleep. It isn’t always safe to judge a man by what he does when he’s playing ball.”

“But just think of the meanness of those men wanting to put some kind of dope in our drinking water!” ejaculated Fred Badger in evident anger. “Why, they might have made some of us real sick in the bargain, as well as lost us the game. Such scoundrels ought to be locked up; they’re a menace to any community.”

“Well, Harmony town is responsible for pretty much all of this,” suggested Jack. “They are letting things go along over there that sleepy old Chester never would think of permitting. Those who sow the wind must expect to reap the whirlwind sooner or later.”

“Yes,” added Toby Hopkins, with a snort, “they seemed to think it gave tone to their games to have those city men come up and back Harmony with money. Let’s hope that after the lesson our worthy mayor set them last Saturday and with this disgrace threatening their good name those Harmony folks will get busy cleaning their Augean stables before any real harm is done.”

Every one had an opinion, and yet they were pretty much along similar lines. The Chester boys thought it terrible that such a warning had to be sent out; though of course they all gave Martin and his crowd full credit for doing the right thing.

Jack was interested in watching Fred Badger, and listening to what he had to say from time to time. Apparently Fred was as indignant as any of them, and so far as Jack could tell there was not a particle of sham about his fervent denunciation of the evil deed contemplated by those strangers anxious to beat the Chester people, who wagered with them, out of their money.

And yet what else could be expected of such men, accustomed to evil ways, and earning their money at race-tracks and the like? What of a boy who had the confidence of his mates on the team, conspiring to sell them out for a bribe? Jack fairly writhed as he thought of it. Looking at Fred’s earnest face as he spoke he could not bring himself to fully believe the other capable of attempting such a dastardly trick; and yet Jack had his fears all the same.

CHAPTER XI
SITTING ON THE LID

The troubles and tribulations of the captain of a baseball team are many, and ofttimes peculiar, as Jack was fast finding out. A load of responsibility rests on his shoulders such as none of the other players knows. He must watch every fellow, and notice the slightest deterioration in his playing; be ready to chide, or give encouraging words; and lie awake nights cudgeling his brains to discover a way of getting better work out of certain delinquent members of the nine, or else making way for a substitute who gives promise of being worth his salt.

Jack was already having troubles enough, he thought, what with the petty annoyances, his grave suspicions of Fred Badger’s loyalty, and now this prospect of foul play being attempted by those evil-disposed men from the city, only bent on reaping a harvest of money from the outcome of the game. There was more to come for the boy who was “sitting on the lid,” it turned out.

Donohue had been acting somewhat queerly during the last two days, Jack noticed. True enough, he came to the practice games, and seemed to have all of his old cunning in his arm when they had him pitch, striking out men at pleasure; but he never smiled, would draw off to himself frequently, and was seen to shake his head as though his thoughts could not be any too pleasant.

What could be ailing the boy, Jack wondered? Surely after his wonderful and even brilliant work in the box on the preceding Saturday, Alec was not beginning to doubt his ability to turn back those sluggers on Harmony’s roll. No, Jack concluded that it could not be this.

“I’ve just got to get Alec by himself, and have it out with him!” he told Toby, with whom he had been earnestly discussing the matter. “Whatever is troubling the boy, the sooner it’s laid the better; for if he keeps on in the frame of mind he seems to be in just now, it’s bound to affect his work when we want him to be at his very best.”

“That’s the only way to do, Jack,” his chum assured him. “Get Alec by himself, and talk to him like a Dutch uncle. Nobody can do it as well as you, I’m sure. And, Jack, if there’s any way I can help, any of us, in fact, remember you’ve only got to speak. Every fellow on the nine would work his fingers to the bone to please you. And, besides, we’ve got our hearts set on winning that game. It would mean the making of Chester as a town where clean sport for boys is indulged in.”

Jack therefore watched until he saw Alec Donohue put on his coat and saunter off, as though heading for home. Then he proceeded to follow after the pitcher.

“I’m going your way, Alec,” he remarked, when the other turned his head and lifted his eyebrows in some little surprise at discovering the captain of the nine trotting along in his wake. “Besides, I want to have a nice little talk with you while we have the chance.”

Young Donohue flushed a bit.

“I rather half expected you’d say that, Jack,” he remarked, with a tinge of distress in his voice. “But, after all, the sooner it’s over with the better, I reckon. I was trying to muster up enough courage to speak to you about it this afternoon, but I felt too hanged bad even to get started.”

Jack became alarmed.

“I’ve noticed that you seemed anything but happy lately, Alec,” he hastened to say, as he threw an arm across the shoulders of the pitcher, “and it began to bother me a heap; because I know a pitcher can hardly deliver his best goods unless he’s feeling as fit as a fiddle. What’s gone wrong? I hope you’re not feeling sick, or anything like that?”

Alec swallowed hard before starting to make answer to this question.

“Never felt better in my whole life, Jack, so far as my body goes; and, if I do say it myself, I firmly believe I’d be able to do better work on Saturday than any of you have ever seen me give. But I’m in a peck of trouble at home, and I’m terribly afraid that I won’t be able to pitch again for Chester.”

“How is that, Alec!” asked the other, solicitously.

“Why, I may not be living in the town on Saturday, you see, and one of the rules of our match games is that every player shall be a resident of the town his club represents. My folks are going to move to Harmony on Friday, sure!”

“That’s bad for us, Alec,” admitted Jack, his heart sinking as he remembered how ineffectual McGuffey had been in the box even while Chester was scoring against the Harmony man; and with Hendrix sending his puzzling shoots over, defeat was positive for Chester unless they had Donohue to depend on. “Tell me how it happens, will you?”

“Why, my father lost his job a few weeks back, being sick for a spell. He doesn’t seem able to strike anything here, but is promised a good job up in Harmony on condition that he moves there right away, so he can start in Saturday. And, Jack, he said this morning that much as he hated to leave town, there wasn’t any other way out; so we’re going the day after tomorrow. I knew I’d have to tell you, but, say, every time I tried to speak it seemed like I’d choke.”

It was a time for quick thinking with Jack.

“I wish you could hold this off for just twenty-four hours, Alec,” he told the other. “Perhaps I may find a way out long before then. Could you promise me that?”

“Sure thing, Jack, and believe me I’d be mighty happy if only you did run across a way of bridging this trouble. But we’re out of money at home, and jobs don’t seem to be floating around in Chester, at least for men as old as my dad.”

“Would you mind telling me what he was promised over at Harmony?” continued the other, at which question Alec started, and looked eagerly at him.

“Why, you see, all my dad’s fit for these days, with his rheumatism bothering him, is a job as night watchman in some factory or mill. That was what he has been promised in Harmony.”

“And what wages does he expect to draw down, Alec? I’m not asking from any curiosity, remember, but I ought to know if I’m going to try to get your father a position here in his old town where he’s known so well and respected; and where his eldest son is making such a name for himself as a sterling baseball player.”

“He is promised twenty-one a week, Jack. You see, in these times wages have all gone up to meet the high cost of living. Time was when he only got fifteen per. I reckon now, it’s your plan to interview some of the gentlemen who are interested in baseball, and that you hope they’ll consent to give my dad a steady job so as to keep the Donohue family in Chester. Well, here’s hoping you strike luck, Jack. If you do I’ll be the happiest boy in Chester tonight, and ready to pitch my arm off Saturday so as to bring another Harmony scalp home.”

They shook hands heartily, and then Jack scurried away. It was one of his cardinal principles never to delay when he had anything of importance on his hands. So a short time later he entered one of the big hives of industry that was managed by Mr. Charles Taft, a middle-aged gentleman who seemed greatly interested in the rise of boys’ sports in Chester, and who had already favored Jack on several occasions.

It was partly through his generosity that the team had been able to secure suits and outfits in the way of bats, balls, bases, and such things, when the season began. More than that, it was this same Mr. Taft who had gladly agreed to let one of his workers have an occasional afternoon off duty when his services were required to coach the struggling ball players, sadly in need of professional advice and encouragement.

When the boy was ushered into his private office, the stout gentleman held