Jack Winters' Baseball Team; Or, The Rivals of the Diamond

CHAPTER VI
FRED PUT TO THE TEST

Jack noticed that he often cast glances in the direction of the grand-stand where a number of enthusiastic Chester girls sat, and waved their flags or handkerchiefs whenever anything occurred that aroused their admiration. He remembered that pretty Molly Skinner was seated there. Fred evidently had not forgotten that fact either, and Jack found himself hoping it might have considerable influence with the sorely tempted third baseman, in case he were finally put to the test.

Martin was apparently out for a hit, if one could judge from his determined attitude as he stood there at the plate, and swung his bat back and forth in his own peculiar fashion, meanwhile watching the pitcher like a hawk.

The coaching had become vehement, Harmony players seeking to unnerve Donohue by running back and forth around first, until the umpire called a halt on this proceeding, after Jack had drawn his attention to the infringement of the rules.

Then Martin swung. He missed connection, and a groan arose from his crowd, while the Chester contingent cheered Donohue lustily. But Martin only smiled. Such a little thing as that was not going to faze him. He had still two more chances, and the next time he would make more certain.

A deathly silence fell upon the crowd, waiting to see whether Harmony could pull the game out of the fire in the ninth, as had happened several times that same season, for they were famous on account of their rallies.

Martin had a second strike called on him, though he made no effort to go after the ball. In fact, it must have passed him so speedily that he could not properly gauge whether it would be a strike or a ball.

Then suddenly Donohue, taking his cue from a motion Jack made, changed his pace. Although he went through exactly the same gyrations as though about to send up another swift one, the ball came lazily floating through the air, and Martin was seen to viciously stab with his bat long before there was any chance to make connections.

Bedlam broke loose again at that. Auto horns and sirens tooted strenuously, boys shrieked through megaphones, girls waved their flags furiously, and Donohue was greeted with encouraging shouts from every side. Really, he was working wonderfully well considering that he could be called a newcomer to the diamond. In time he was certain to make a name for himself among the big clubs, if some wandering scout ever heard of him, and visited Chester to size his work up.

But here came Oldsmith, and there was that about his manner to proclaim how his whole heart was bent on making at least a single, if not better, so that Harmony might break the tie, and get the home team on the run.

“Take him into camp, Alec!”

“You’ve got his measure all right, old scout! Twice before he whiffed, and he’s in line to make it three times!”

“Feed him your best sizzlers, Donohue!”

“Oldsmith, you’re a back number today, don’t you know?”

Then they heard the bat connect with the ball. Clifford was off toward second in great style. Toby Hopkins threw himself and managed to stop the shoot that was headed for centre, but he could not get to Jones on second in time to nail the runner, for the umpire held up his hand, and that meant Clifford was safe.

Again things began to look dark for Chester. Harmony had “found” Donohue at last, it seemed, and there could be no telling when the salvo of hits could stop. Perhaps the game would be “sewed up” right there, in case Harmony scored, and Hendrix shut his opponents out when their turn at bat came.

Now it was Bailey up.

The little shortstop was primed for anything. He struck at the first ball, and knocked a foul which dropped safe. Then he missed the next ball so that he was “two in the hole.” Of course it was expected that Donohue would now try to deceive him by tempting him with a curve that would be wide of the plate; but Jack had signaled for a third one straight, and it came with swiftness.

Bailey was ready, however, and knew he had to strike, for it would count against him at any rate. He got a fluke hit that started toward first. By jumping in Jack managed to pick up the ball, and then having touched the bag, he hurled it toward second in hopes of making a double play.

Oldsmith, however, had made a fine slide, and was clutching the corner of the second sack when Jones took the ball; while Clifford had won third.

There were now two down, with men on second and third.

Everything depended on the next batter, and when it was seen to be that formidable slugger O’Leary, the home-run maker, how those Harmony rooters did scream. Some of the more irresponsible took to dancing like idiots, clasped in each other’s arms. In fact, every known device for “rattling” a pitcher was resorted to, of course legitimately, in order to further their waning cause.

Eagerly did many of the local fans watch to see whether Donohue gave any evidence of going to pieces. He seemed as cool as ever, and smiled as he handled the ball; while O’Leary was knocking his big bat on the ground to test its reliability, as though he meant to put it to some good service then and there. He was seen to turn his head and grin toward some of his ardent admirers in the bleachers back of him. By this means he doubtless informed them that he had been only playing with the tenderfoot pitcher hitherto, and would now proceed to show what strength lay in those muscular arms of his.

Jack waved the fielders back. He anticipated that O’Leary was due for one of his famous lengthy drives, and it was necessary that those guarding the outer gardens should be in position to make a great run, once the ball left the bat. Still, he continued to feel fairly confident that Donohue would recover from his temporary set-back, and possibly deceive O’Leary, as he had done twice before.

He realized that the crisis he had feared was now upon them. If O’Leary sent a scorcher toward Fred, how would the third baseman handle it? Clifford knew what was expected of him, and already part way home on the movement of the pitcher winding up to throw, he would shoot along at the crack of the bat, taking his chances, since there were already two down.

He saw O’Leary actually turn his head slightly and take a quick look toward third as though making up his mind just where he wanted to send the ball, should he be able to connect with the horse-hide sphere. Jack felt a cold chill pass over him. Could it be possible that O’Leary actually knew there was a weak link in the chain made by the infield, and figured on taking advantage of Fred’s intended treachery?

At that moment it seemed as though Jack lived years, so many things flashed into his mind. He even remembered how earlier in the game two men, strangers in town, had made themselves obnoxious by standing up in the bleacher seats and shaking handfuls of greenbacks, daring Chester people to back their favorites at odds of three to four. They had been spotted almost immediately, and the mayor of Chester ordered them to desist under penalty of being arrested, since it was against the law of the town for any sort of wagering to be indulged in.

The presence of the local police, and their movement toward the spot had resulted in the two sporty looking strangers subsiding. Some of the Harmony boys, however, scoffed at such Puritanical methods of procedure, since over at their town things were allowed to run wide open; or at least winked at by the authorities.

Jack had been too far away to make sure, but he had a suspicion that one of the pair of betting men looked very much like the party with whom he had seen Fred Badger in close conversation, and who had offered him a paper to sign, after which something passed between them that might have been money, though Jack had not been absolutely certain about that part of it.

Deep down in his heart, Jack hoped most earnestly that the chance for Fred to soil his hands with any crooked work might not arise. It would be all right, for instance, if only Donohue could strike the great O’Leary out for the third time. Then again perhaps even though the batter managed to connect with the ball, he might be unable to send it straight toward Fred. It was liable to go in any other direction, and if a tally should result from the blow, at least it could not be placed to a supposed error on the part of Badger.

Donohue delivered his first one wide of the plate. O’Leary laughed, and nodded his head, as though to tell the pitcher he was too old a bird to be caught with such chaff.

“Make him put it over, Dan!”

“Knock the stuffing out of the ball, O’Leary!”

“One of your old-time homers is what we need, remember!”

“You’ve got his number, Dan; don’t bite at a wide one!”

“You’ll walk, all right; he’s afraid of you, old scout!”

All these and many other cries could be heard, but the players were paying no attention to the crowd now. Every fielder was “on his toes,” so to speak, anticipating that it might be up to him to save the day. In the main, the crowd was so anxious over the outcome of the next ball from the pitcher that they almost forgot to breathe, only watching the pitcher wind up preparatory to making his throw.

Jack saw Fred give one of his quick looks toward the spot where pretty Molly Skinner sat. He hoped it meant that he had resolved to be staunch and true to his team-mates, and loyal to his native town, despite any terrible temptation that may have come to him in the shape of a big bribe.

O’Leary had a peculiar crouch at the plate. His odd attitude made Jack think of a squatty spider about to launch itself at a blue-bottled fly that had ventured too near his corner. No doubt it accounted in some measure for his swatting ability, as he would necessarily put the whole force of his body in his blow. Often when he missed connections he would whirl all the way around; and then recovering make a humorous gesture toward his admirers in the crowd, for O’Leary, being Irish, was almost always in good humor, no matter what happened.

He let the first ball speed past for a strike, and higher rose the excitement. The umpire called the second one a ball, which evened matters a little. Next came “strike two,” and yet the great O’Leary waited, while his admirers began to feel fainthearted, fearing that he would stand there and be counted down when everything depended on his making a hit.

Then there came an awful crack! O’Leary had picked out just the kind of a ball he wanted. It must have left his bat like a bullet, and Jack felt himself turn cold when he realized that the ball was headed straight as a die for Fred Badger!

CHAPTER VII
THE GAME CALLED BY DARKNESS

That was the umpire making his decision. Not one of the Harmony fellows as much as lifted a voice to dispute the verdict; in the first place, they knew Mr. Merrywether too well to attempt browbeating him at the risk of being taken out of the game; then again every one with eyes could see that Clifford had been three feet away from the plate when Mullane tagged him with the ball.

How the crowd did carry on. A stranger chancing on the spot might have thought Pershing’s gallant little army had managed to capture the Kaiser, or crossed the Rhine on its way to Berlin. Indeed, those “whoopers” could not have made more noise to the square inch under any conditions.

And Jack’s one thought was gratitude that after all Fred had been able to come through the great test with his honor unsullied. He had shot the ball as straight as a die at Mullane; and the game was still anybody’s so far as victory was concerned.

They played a tenth inning, and still not a runner so much as reached second. Really both pitchers seemed to be getting constantly better, strange to say, for they mowed the batters down in succession, or else caused them to pop up fouls that were readily captured by the first or third basemen, or the man behind the bat.

This was not so wonderful on the part of the veteran Hendrix, for he was well seasoned in the game, and had been known to figure in a thirteen-inning deal, coming out ahead in the end when his opponent weakened. Everybody, however, declared it to be simply marvelous that a greenhorn slab-artist like young Donohue should prove to be the possessor of so much stamina.

The eleventh inning went through in quick order. Still the tie remained unbroken, though Jack managed to get a single in his turn at bat. Phil Parker also rapped a ferocious screamer across the infield, but hit into a double that ended the hopeful rally at bat.

When the twelfth opened up, a number of people were seen to start away. They may have been enthusiastic fans enough, but the day was waning, home might be far distant, and they did not like the way those clouds had rolled up, promising a storm sooner or later.

The sun was out of sight long since, and objects could not be determined as easily as when the game began. Every little while that weather-sharp, Oliver, would take a sailor-like squint aloft, and chuckle to himself. Indeed, Specs, his companion, was of the opinion that Oliver would be willing to cheerfully take a good ducking if he could only have his scorned prediction prove a true shot.

There were those present so intent on the game that they paid no attention to the gathering clouds, and the fact that it was getting difficult to see the ball. This latter fact was depended on to help bring matters to a focus, because errors were more likely to occur, any one of which might prove sufficient to let in the winning run.

But if the fielders were thus handicapped, the batters had their own troubles. They could not distinguish the fast-speeding ball as it shot by, and consequently were apt to whack away at anything, so strike-outs must become the order of the day.

The twelfth ended with nothing doing on either side. By now some of the boys were beginning to tire out, for the long strain was telling on them. These fellows of weak hearts were willing to have the game called a draw, which must be played over again at Harmony on the succeeding Saturday. As playing on the home ground is usually considered a great advantage, because the players are accustomed to every peculiarity of the field, Harmony would reap more or less profit from having the postponed game on their diamond. And consequently, when they trooped out for the finish of the thirteenth inning, several of them seemed to have conspired to delay play as much as possible.

This they did in various ways. One fellow made out to have received a slight injury, and the umpire called time until a companion could wrap a rag around the scratched finger. Doubtless he would hardly like to show the extent of his hurt, but the wide grin on his face after the tedious operation had been concluded, told the truth; indeed, most of those present were able to guess his object.

Then just as they settled down to play, another fielder called for time while he knelt down to fasten his shoe-lace which seemed to have come undone, and might trip him at a critical time when he was racing for a fly.

The crowd yelled and jeered, but in spite of all, Clifford took a full minute and more to effect his purpose. Finally, rising, he waved his hand to the umpire to let him know the game could now proceed.

The crowd knew that Harmony was fighting for time, anxious now to have the game called a draw, so that they might have another chance on their home grounds. Such yelling as took place. Harmony was loudly accused of weakening, and trying to crawl out of a tight hole. Loud calls were made for Big Bob at bat to knock one over the fence and lose the ball for keeps.

He did his best, and every one leaped up when the sound of his bat striking the pellet sounded above all other noises. The ball went screeching over second, and apparently was tagged for a three-bagger at least; but Oldsmith had been playing deep when he saw who was up, and by making a most desperate effort he managed to clutch the ball just in time.

That was the expiring effort on the part of Chester. The other two batters went out in quick order just as the first few drops of rain started to fall.

It was now getting quite gloomy, and a hurried consultation between the umpire and the rival captains resulted in Mr. Merrywether announcing through a megaphone that the game would have to be declared a draw, which tie must be played off at Harmony, according to previous arrangements, on the following Saturday.

Then the vast crowd commenced to scatter in a great hurry, fearful lest the rain start falling and drench them. There was more or less confusion as scores of cars and carryalls rushed along the road leading to Harmony, distant ten miles or more. Since everybody hurried, the grounds were soon deserted save by a few who remained to look after things.

Jack and several of the boys would have lingered to talk matters over, but the lateness of the hour and the overcast sky forbade such a thing, so they, too, headed for their various homes.

Jack, however, did manage to locate Fred, and made it a point to overtake the other on the road. He linked his arm with that of the third baseman, and dropped into step.

“I want to say, Fred, that stop and throw of yours saved the day for Chester,” he told the other. “If you had drawn Steve a foot away from home Clifford would have slid safe, for he was coming like a hurricane. Chester will remember that fine work of yours for a long time. And the girls, Fred, why I thought they’d have a fit, they carried on so. I’m sure you pleased some of your best friends a whole lot by being Johnny-on-the-spot today!”

“Thank you for saying it, anyhow, Jack,” the other was saying, and somehow Jack could not help thinking Fred did not show just as much gratification as most fellows would have done at being so highly complimented.

But then, he must make allowances. If matters were as desperate as he suspected, poor Fred must by now be feeling the effect of having allowed his chance for securing all that money, so badly needed in order to help his mother, slip through his fingers. Now that all the excitement had died away, and he found himself face to face with the old question, with the prospect of seeing his mother’s tired looks again reproaching him, Fred must be wondering whether he had after all chosen wisely in letting honor take the place of duty.

So Jack commenced to chatter about the game, and how proud Chester folks would be of the young athletes who represented the town that day.

“It’s pretty evident, you must see, Fred,” he continued, after thus arousing the other’s interest, “that our big task of getting subscriptions toward building or renting a building for a club-house and gymnasium has been helped mightily by the clever work done this day. I heard of three influential gentlemen who had declared they were willing to take a hand, just because such determined and hard-playing boys stood in need of such an institution.”

“Yes, Chester has been away behind the times in looking after the morals and requirements of her young people,” admitted Fred. “There’s Marshall with its fine Y. M. C. A. building and gym., and even Harmony has a pretty good institution where the young fellows can belong, and spend many a winter’s evening in athletic stunts calculated to build up their bodies, and make them more healthy.”

“Well, believe me, the day is about to dawn when Chester will be put on the map for the same stuff,” asserted Jack, not boastingly, but with full confidence; “and these splendid baseball matches we’re pulling off nowadays are bound to help to bring that same event to pass. Men who had almost forgotten that they used to handle a bat in their kid days have had their old enthusiasm for the national sport of America revived. Depend upon it, Fred, in good time we’ll be playing football, hockey, basketball, and every sort of thing that goes to make up the life of a healthy boy.”

In this fashion did the pair talk as they hurried along. The drops were beginning to come down faster now, showing that when the game was called, it had been a very wise move, for many people must otherwise have been caught in the rain.

Fred seemed to be fairly cheerful at the time Jack shook his hand again, and once more congratulated him on his fine work for the team. Looking back after they had parted, Jack saw the boy stop at his door and hesitate about entering, which seemed to be a strange thing for a member of the gallant baseball team that had covered themselves with glory on that particular day to do.

But then Jack could guess how possibly Fred might be feeling his heart reproach him again because he had chosen his course along the line of honor. He must get a grip on himself before he could pass in and see that weary look on her face. Jack shook his head as he hurried on to his own house. He felt that possibly the crisis in Fred’s young life had, after all, only been postponed, and not altogether passed. That terrible temptation might come to him again, more powerful than ever; and in the game at Harmony, if a choice were given him, would he be just as able to resist selling himself as he had on this wonderful day?

CHAPTER VIII
THE PUZZLE GROWS

So when he sighted Toby and Steve on the afternoon of his return, he gave the pair a hail, and quickly joined them on the street.

“Glad you’ve got back home, Jack, sure I am,” said Toby, the first thing.

“Why,” added Steve, “we didn’t even get a chance to compare notes with you about that great game on Saturday, though Toby and myself have talked the subject threadbare by now.”

“And one thing we both agree about, Jack,” continued Toby, with a grin.

“What’s that?” demanded the other.

“Fred saved the day when he stopped that terrible line drive of O’Leary, and shot the ball home as straight as a die. No professional player could possibly have done it a shade better, I’m telling you.”

“It was a grand play,” admitted Jack, “and I told Fred so while we walked home together.”

Steve looked keenly at him when Jack said this.

“Oh! then you got a chance to talk with Fred after the game, did you?” he ventured to say, in a queer sort of way. “How did Fred act then, Jack?”

“Well, I must say he didn’t impress me as being over-enthusiastic,” admitted Jack. “You see, he had done his whole duty in the heat of action, and after he had a chance to cool off and realize what he had lost, he may have felt a touch of remorse, for he certainly does love that poor mother of his a heap. I can understand just how he must be having a terrible struggle in his mind as to what is the right course for him to pursue.”

At that Toby gave a snort that plainly told how he was beginning to doubt certain things in which he had hitherto fully believed.

“Now, looky here, Jack,” he started to say good-humoredly, “don’t you reckon that you might have been mistaken in thinking poor Fred was dickering with some of those men to throw the game, so they could make big money out of if? Why, after all, perhaps his looking so dismal comes from his feeling so bad about his mother. We ought to give him the benefit of the doubt, I say.”

“I sometimes feel that way myself, Toby, don’t you know?” acknowledged Jack in his usual frank fashion. “And yet when I consider the conditions, and remember how suspiciously Fred acted with that sporty-looking gentleman, I find myself owning up that it looks bad for the boy. But at any rate he succeeded in fighting his own battle, and winning a victory over his temptation.”

“But, Jack, I’m afraid he’s bound to have to go through the whole business again,” interposed Steve.

“Do you know I more than half suspected you had got wind of something new in the affair, Steve,” Jack told him. “I could see how your eyes glistened as you listened to what Toby here was saying; and once or twice you opened your mouth to interrupt him, but thought better of it. Now tell us what it means, Steve.”

“For one thing, that man has been at Fred again,” asserted the other, positively.

“Do you know this for a certainty?” Jack asked.

“Why, I saw them talking, I tell you,” explained Steve, persistently. “This is how it came about. You see, yesterday, as Toby here couldn’t go fishing with me I started off alone, taking my bait pail and rod along, and bent on getting a mess of perch at a favorite old fishin’ hole I knew along the shore of the lake about a mile or so from town.”

“Meaning that same place you showed me, near where the road comes down close to the shore of the water?” suggested Toby, quickly.

“Right you are, son,” continued Steve, nodding his head as he spoke. “Well, I had pretty fair luck for a while, and then the perch quit taking hold, so I sat down to wait till they got hungry again. And while I squatted there on the log that runs out over the water at my favorite hole, I heard the mutter of voices as some people came slowly along the road.

“First I didn’t pay much attention to the sounds, believing that just as like as not it was a couple of town boys, and I didn’t like the idea of their finding out where I got such heavy strings of fish once in so often. And then as they passed closer to me something familiar in one of the voices made me twist my head around.

“Well, it was Fred Badger, all right, walking along with that same sporty-looking stranger. And say, he isn’t such a bad-looking customer after all, Jack, when you get a close look at him, being gray-bearded, and a bit halting in his walk like he might have been injured some time or other. It’s more the clothes he wears that give him the sporty appearance, though, if you say he’s one of that betting bunch up at Harmony, he must be a bad lot.

“They had their heads together, and seemed to be discussing something at a great rate. I couldn’t hear what they said, the more the pity, for it might have given us a line on the whole silly business; but the man seemed trying to convince Fred about something, and the boy was arguing kind of feebly as if ready to give in. Well, something tempted me to give a cough after I’d stood up on the log. Both of ’em looked that way in a hurry. I waved my hand at Fred, and he answered my signal, but while you might have expected that he’d come back to ask what luck I had, and mebbe introduce his friend, he didn’t do that same by a jugfull. Fact is he said something to the man, and the two of them hurried along the road.”

Jack felt his heart grow heavy again. He was taking a great interest in the affairs of Fred Badger, and would be very much shocked should the other fall headlong into the net that seemed to be spread for his young feet.

“I know for one thing,” he told the others, “I’ll be mighty glad when that tie game is played off with Harmony, no matter which side wins the verdict. And I hope Fred is given no such chance to choose between right and wrong as came his way last Saturday. If those men increase the bribe his scruples may give way. And if only Fred could understand that his mother would utterly refuse to profit by his dishonor, he might have his heart steeled to turn the tempters down.”

“Then, Jack, why don’t you try and figure out how you could put it up to Fred that way?” urged Toby, eagerly.

“I’ve tried to think how it could be done without offending him, or allowing him to suspect that I know what he’s going through,” mused Jack. “There might be a way to mention a hypothetical case, as though it were some other fellow I once knew who had the same kind of choice put up to him, and took the wrong end, only to have his father or sister, for whom he had sinned, reproach him bitterly, and refuse to accept tainted money.”

“Gee whiz! it does take you to hatch up ways and means, Jack!” exclaimed Toby, delightedly. “Now, I should say that might be a clever stunt. You can warn him without making him feel that you’re on to his game. Figure it out, Jack, and get busy before next Saturday comes, won’t you?”

“Yes,” added Steve, “Fred Badger is too good a fellow to let drop. We need him the worst kind to fill that gap at third. Besides, suspecting what we do, it would be a shame for us not to hold out a helping hand to a comrade who’s up against it good and hard.”

“What you say, Steve, does your big heart credit,” remarked Jack, “but it might be wise for us to drop our voices a little, because somehow we have wandered on, and are right now getting pretty close to Fred’s home, which you know lies just on the other side of that clump of bushes.”

“Did you steer us this way on purpose, Jack!” demanded Toby, suspiciously.

“Why, perhaps I had a little notion of stopping in and seeing Mrs. Badger,” admitted the other, chuckling. “In fact, my mother commissioned me to fetch this glass of home-made preserves over to her, knowing that Fred’s mother has not been at all well. Yes, I own up I was influential in making her think that way, and was on my way when I ran across you fellows.”

“Huh! I wouldn’t be at all surprised, Jack!” declared Toby, “if you had a scheme in your mind right now to put a crimp in this foolishness on the part of Fred Badger.”

“I’m not saying I haven’t, remember, fellows,” laughed the other, who evidently did not mean to show his full hand just then. “When the time comes perhaps I’ll let you in on this thing. I want to do some more thinking first, though. Many a good idea is wasted because it isn’t given a foundation in the beginning. Now, suppose you boys wait for me here while I step around and leave this little comfit with Mrs. Badger with my mother’s compliments.”

“Just as you say, Jack,” muttered Steve, looking rather unhappy because lie was not to be taken wholly into the confidence of the other. “Don’t stay too long, though, unless you mean to tell us all that happens in there.”

Jack only smiled in return, and stepped forward. His comrades saw him suddenly draw back as though he had made a discovery. Then turning toward them, he beckoned with his hand, at the same time holding up a warning finger as though telling them not to make the least noise.

“Now, what’s in the wind, Jack?” whispered Toby, as they reached the side of the other.

“Take a peek and see who’s here!” Jack told them.

At that both the others advanced cautiously and stared beyond the big clump of high bushes. They almost immediately shrank back again, and the look on their faces announced the receipt of quite a shock.

“Great Cæsar! is that chap the man you’ve both been talking about, tell me?” asked Toby, half under his breath.

“He is certainly the party I saw Fred talking with so mysteriously,” asserted Jack, positively.

“And the same fellow who was walking along the road with Fred while I sat on my log, fishing,” added Steve, convincingly.

“But what under the sun is he doing out here near Fred’s house, leaning on that fence, and keeping tabs on the little Badger home, I’d like to know?” Toby went on to say, wonder written in big letters on his face.

CHAPTER IX
A FAIRY IN THE BADGER HOME

“That’s it,” assented Steve; “he wants to learn why Fred seems to hold back. He means to meet the little mother, and the two small girls, one of ’em a cripple in the bargain. It’s a shame that he should push himself in on that family, and he a city sport in the bargain. We ought to find a way to chase him out of town, don’t you think, Jack?”

“Hold up, and perhaps we may learn something right now,” whispered the other, after a hasty look; “because there’s Fred’s mother coming out of the door.”

“Gee whiz! can she be meaning to meet this man?” ventured Toby, apparently appalled by his own suspicion.

“Well, hardly likely,” Jack told him, “because the man has ducked down as if he didn’t want to be seen by her, though he’s looking like everything all the while.”

“That’s little Barbara Badger, the five-year-old sister of Fred,” Steve was saying. “She’s got a basket on her arm, too, and I reckon her ma is sending her to the store down the street for a loaf of bread, or something like that. Everybody seems to agree that Barbara is the most winsome little girl in the whole of Chester.”

“Barring none,” admitted Toby, immediately. “Why, she’s just like a little golden-haired fairy, my dad says, and since he’s something of an artist he ought to know when he sees one. Yep, you were right, Steve, the child is going after something at the store. I wonder now would that wretch have the nerve to stop Barbara, and try to get some information from the little thing?”

“What if he tries to kidnap her?” suggested Steve, suddenly, doubling up his sturdy looking fist aggressively, as though to indicate that it would not be safe for the stranger to attempt such a terrible thing while he was within hearing distance.

“Oh! I hardly think there’s any fear of that happening,” Jack assured the aggressive member of the trio. “But he acts now as if he meant to drop back here out of sight, so perhaps we’d better slip around this bunch of bushes so he won’t learn how we’ve been watching him.”

Suiting their actions to Jack’s words, the three boys quickly “made themselves scarce,” which was no great task when such an admirable hiding-place as that stack of bushes lay conveniently near by. Sure enough, the stranger almost immediately came around the clump and made sure that it hid him from the small cottage lying beyond. Jack, taking a look on his own account from behind the bushes, saw that Mrs. Badger had started to reenter the house; while pretty little Barbara was contentedly trudging along the cinder pavement.

Evidently the child was quite accustomed to doing errands of this nature for her mother, when Fred did not happen to be around; nor was it likely that Mrs. Badger once dreamed Barbara might get into any sort of trouble, for the neighborhood, while not fashionable, was at least said to be safe, and honest people dwelt there.

“He’s staring as hard as anything at Barbara,” whispered Toby, who had been peeping. “Why, he acts for all the world like he could fairly eat the sweet little thing up. Perhaps it’s a good job we chance to be around here after all,” but Jack shook his head as though he did not dream any harm was going to come to little Barbara.

“If he’s so much taken up watching her,” he remarked, “we can spy on him without his being any the wiser. But take care not to move too quickly at any time; and a sneeze or a cough would spoil everything for us.”

Accordingly, they crept forward. Looking cautiously around their covert, the boys could easily see that Barbara Badger had by now turned the bushes and reached the spot where the stranger stood.

Now he was speaking to her, bending low, and using what struck the suspicious Steve as a wheedling tone; though to Jack it was just what any gentleman might use in seeking to gain the confidence of a child who had never seen him before.

Apparently the little girl did not seem to be afraid. Perhaps she was accustomed to having people speak kindly to her on the street, just to see that winsome smile break over her wonderfully pretty face. At any rate, she had answered him, and as he started to walk slowly at her side, it seemed as though they had entered into quite an animated conversation, the stranger asking questions, and the little girl giving such information as lay in her power.

“He’s just trying to find out how the land lies in Fred’s house, that’s what he’s doing, the sneak!” gritted Steve.

“Oh! how do we know but what the man has a small girl of his own somewhere?” Jack interposed; “and Barbara somehow reminds him of her. Besides, can you blame anybody for trying to get acquainted with Fred’s sweet little sister?”

Steve subsided after that. Apparently he could find no answer to the logic Jack was able to bring against his suspicions. By skirting the inside of a fence it would be possible for them to follow after the man and the child without disclosing their presence.

“Let’s do it!” suggested Steve, after Toby had made mention of this fact.

Accordingly they started to steal along. As the others were walking very slowly the three boys found no great difficulty in keeping close behind them. They could even pick up something of what passed between the pair on the cinder pavement. The man was asking Barbara about her home folks, and seemed particularly interested in hearing about mother’s pale looks and many sighs; and also how sister Lucy seemed to be able to walk better lately than at any time in the past; though she did have to use a crutch; but she hoped to be able to go to school in the fall if she continued to improve.

Fred’s name did not seem to be mentioned once by the man. Even when Barbara told some little thing in which the boy figured, the man failed to ask about him. His whole interest was centered in the mother, the crippled child, and this wonderfully attractive little angel at his side.

Jack also noticed that he had hold of Barbara’s small hand, which he seemed to be clutching eagerly. Yes, it must be the man had a daughter of his own far away, and memories of her might be making him sorry that he had engaged in such a disreputable business as tempting Barbara’s brother to betray his mates of the baseball team.

Then the man stopped short. He had looked around and discovered that if he went any further he might be noticed from the side windows of the Badger cottage. Apparently he did not wish that the child’s mother should discover him walking with her. Jack somehow felt an odd thrill shoot through him when he saw the man suddenly bend his head and press several kisses on the little hand that had been nestling so confidingly in his own palm. That one act seemed to settle it in the boy’s mind that there was more or less truth in his conjecture in connection with another Barbara in some distant city waiting for her father to come back home.

“Say, he’s acting real spoony, isn’t he, Jack?” gasped Toby, taken aback as he saw the man do this. “I reckon now, Steve, your ogre isn’t quite as tough a character as you imagined. He’s got a spark of human about him, seems like, and like most Chester folks has to knuckle down before that pretty kid.”

“Oh! he may be acting that way for a purpose,” grumbled the unconvinced Steve, still unwilling to give up. “Such fellows generally have a deep game up their sleeve, you understand. Just wait and see, that’s all, Toby Hopkins. I don’t like his actions one little bit, if you want to know how I feel about it.”

Almost immediately afterwards Toby spoke again in a guarded tone.

“Look at her picking something up from among the cinders, and holding it out! Why, it looks like a shining new fifty-cent bit, which is just what it is. And to think we walked right over it when we came along, and not one of us glimpsed what the sharp eyes of that child have found.”

“Huh! mebbe it wasn’t there when we came along, Toby!” suggested Steve. “Just as like as not that chap he dropped the coin, and ground it part-way into the cinders with his toe, then managed so little Barbara should pick it up. There, listen to him now telling her that findings is keepings, and that the money belongs to her by right of discovery. That was a smart dodge, wasn’t it? I wonder what his game is. Can you guess it, Jack?”

“I decline to commit myself to an answer,” came the reply.

“That means you’ve got some sort of hazy suspicion, which may and again may not pan out later on,” hinted Steve. “Oh! well, it seems as if we’ve run smack up against a great puzzle, and I never was a good hand at figuring such things out–never guessed a rebus or an acrostic in my whole life. Tell us when you strike pay dirt, that’s a good fellow, Jack.”

“Perhaps I will,” chuckled the other, still keeping his eyes glued on the figures of little Barbara and the stranger, not far distant.

Now the man had evidently said good-bye, for, as she tripped along the walk, she turned to wave her chubby hand to him, and even kiss the tips of her fingers to her scarlet rosebud lips as if sending a kiss back.

He stood there staring after her. Jack watching saw him take out a handkerchief and wipe his eyes several times. Apparently that meeting with Barbara Badger had affected the man considerably. Jack hoped it would be for his good, and also for the benefit of Fred Badger, who seemed to be struggling with some secret that was weighing his young spirit down.

Then the man turned and looked long and earnestly back toward the humble cottage home of the widow. He was shaking his head and muttering something half under his breath; but somehow Jack thought he did not look very ferocious just then. In fact, after the man strode away and they were free to once more come out on the walk, Jack had a feeling that the stranger did not appear quite so much like a desperate city sport as he had formerly believed.

CHAPTER X
THE WARNING

Jack could hardly believe such a thing possible. He knew and respected Martin, the gentlemanly captain of the rival team, too well, to think he would show the white feather. Why, it would be talked about all through the county, and Harmony could never again make any boast. Oh! no, something of a minor nature must have come up, and Martin wished to consult with the captain of the Chester nine in advance–possibly some local ground rule had been framed which, in all honor, he believed the others ought to know about before the time came to apply it.

“Hello! Jack!” said Bailey with the easy familiarity that boys in general show when dealing with one another, though they may even be comparative strangers.

“Glad to see you, Bailey,” returned the other. “What brings you over this way again? Anything new come up?”

None of the other players had followed Bailey when he advanced. They seemed to take it for granted that if it was any of their business, Jack would be sure to call them up.

“Why, something has happened that we thought you fellows ought to know about,” continued the shortstop of the Harmony team, with a little trace of confusion in his manner.

“And Captain Martin sent you over as a messenger, is that it, Bailey?” asked Jack, shaking hands cordially; for he had liked the other chap through all the two games already played; Bailey was clean in everything he did, and that sort of a boy always appealed to Jack Winters, detesting fraud and trickery as he did.

“That’s it, Jack. He gave me this note to deliver; and I’m to answer any questions you may see fit to ask.”

There was something a bit queer in the other’s manner as he said this; and the way in which he thrust out a sealed envelope at the same time smacked of the dramatic. Jack took it with rising curiosity. Really, this began to assume a more serious aspect than he had at first thought could be possible. It was therefore with considerable interest he tore off the end of the envelope, and pulled out the enclosure, which proved to be a full page of writing easily deciphered.

Since it is necessary that the contents of that missive should be understood by the reader we shall take the liberty of looking over Jack’s shoulder and devouring Martin’s letter as eagerly as the recipient did.

“To the Captain and Members of the Chester Baseball Team:

“We, the entire Harmony baseball organization, take this method of warning you that it is more than half suspected there is a miserable plot afloat to cause you fellows to lose the game next Saturday through a fluke. It may not be true, but we believe it to be our duty to put you on your guard, because we would disdain to profit by any such trickery bordering on a crime. There are some reckless sports up from the city, who have been wagering heavily on our winning out. After the game last Saturday, it seems that they have begun to get cold feet, and believe that Harmony might not have such a soft snap as they thought when they made all those heavy wagers. Needless to state the boys of the team do not share in their fears, for we are perfectly confident that we can down you again, as we did in the first game. But we would be ashamed if anything happened to cast the slightest doubt on the glory of our anticipated victory. We believe you Chester fellows to be an honorable lot and no matter whoever wins we want it to be a victory as clean and honest as they make them. We intend to have men on the watch for crooked business. One thing we beg you to do, which is to set a guard on your water-bucket, and allow no one not a player on your side to go anywhere near it! There have been occasions on record where dope was given through the drinking water, that made players sick, and unable to do their best in the game, thus losing for their side.

“We send you this, believing that you will give us full credit for being lovers of clean sport. So keep in the pink of condition for Saturday, and able to do your prettiest, for, believe us, you will have need of every ounce of ability you possess, because Hendrix says he never felt more fit in his life.

Signed    Captain Lem Martin,
For the entire Harmony Baseball Team.”

When Jack had finished reading this remarkable letter, the first thing he did was characteristic of the boy–he reached out his hand toward Bailey.

“Shake again, Bailey! I honor such sentiments, and believe me, the boys of Chester will never forget such a friendly spirit as your team shows. We, too, would refuse to play in a game where we had the slightest reason to believe crooked work was going on, that would be to the disadvantage of our adversaries.”

The little shortstop’s eyes glistened as he wrung Jack’s hand.

“Glad to see you take it in the right spirit, old fellow,” he hastened to say. “We were horribly worked up when we got wind of this business through sheer accident. Only a mean skunk like a tricky sport from the city could dream of doing such a thing. But now it’s come out, you’ll find that all Harmony will be on edge looking for signs of treachery toward you fellows.”

“How about telling the other boys?” inquired Jack.

“You’re at perfect liberty to do that,” the shortstop assured him. “In fact, we expected you would. The sooner the news is carried through Chester the better chance that nothing so low-down will be attempted; and no matter how the game turns out, it will be clean. Much as we want to win we all agree that we’d rather be badly licked by Chester than have it ever said there was a shadow of fraud on our victory.”

So Jack beckoned to the rest.

“Only the members of the team, subs. as well as regulars, are wanted here!” he called aloud; and accordingly, they came forward, most of the boys exchanging looks of natural curiosity, and doubtless fearing that some hitch had occurred in the programme for the ensuing Saturday.

Judge of their amazement when Jack read aloud the letter from Captain Martin. It seemed almost unbelievable to some of the boys. Others who always made it a practice to glean all the baseball news in the city papers that came to certain Chester homes, may have known that such evil practices had been attempted occasionally, especially where unprincipled men began to wager money on the result of championship games.

All of them seemed unanimously of the opinion that Harmony had evinced a most laudable and sportsmanlike spirit in sending this strange warning. It made them feel that in struggling for the mastery on the diamond with such manly fellows, they were up against the right kind of foe-men. Indeed, even a defeat at the hands of Harmony would not seem so dreadful a disaster, now that they knew Martin and his crowd to be such good fellows.

Bailey did not wait to listen to many of the remarks that followed the reading of the letter. He could see that Chester had received the warning in the same friendly spirit in which it had been sent; and this was the news he meant to carry back with him.

“I want to own up they’re 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

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 out his hand, and smiled pleasantly. He was a great and constant admirer of Jack Winters, because he could read frankness, honesty, determination to succeed, and many other admirable traits in the boy’s face. In fact, Mr. Taft had been quite an athlete himself when at college, and his interest in clean sport had never flagged even when he took up serious tasks in the business world.

“Glad to see you, my boy,” he observed, in his customary genial fashion, as he squeezed Jack’s hand. “What can I do for you today? How is the team getting along after that glorious game you played? No press of business is going to prevent one man I know of in Chester from attending the game next Saturday. I hope you are not in any trouble, Jack?”

Evidently his quick eye had noted the slight cloud on the boy’s face, an unusual circumstance in connection with the captain of the nine.

“Yes, I am in a peck of trouble, sir,” candidly confessed Jack. “The fact of the matter is it looks as though, we might be short our wonderful young pitcher, Alec Donohue, next Saturday.”

“How’s that, Jack?” demanded the gentleman, anxiously. “I’m greatly interested in that lad’s work. He certainly has the making of a great pitcher in him. Why, if we lose Donohue, I’m afraid the cake will be dough with us, for I hear Hendrix is in excellent shape, and declares he will pitch the game of his life when next he faces your crowd.”

“I’ll tell you what the matter is, sir,” and with that Jack plunged into a brief exposition of the Donohue family troubles.

As he proceeded, he saw with kindling joy that a beaming smile had commenced to creep over the rosy countenance of the one-time college athlete. This encouraged him to state how a wild hope had arisen in his heart that possibly some job might be found for Mr. Donohue that would keep the family in Chester right along.

“We need him the worst kind, Mr. Taft,” he concluded. “If Alec quits us cold I’m afraid it’s bound to set all our fine schemes for athletics in Chester back a peg or two. This seems to be a most critical time with us. If we win that game we’re going to make many new friends around here, who will assist us in getting that club-house we’ve been talking about, and putting athletic sports on a sound footing in our town.”