CHAPTER XXIII.
ANOTHER BALL GAME.
A few days later the Rushers played another game of ball, this time with a nine from Greenpoint. As Dick Burns was now well again he played at second base, while Joe took his old position behind the home plate and Charley Osborne pitched as before.
There was a bitter rivalry between Lockport and Greenpoint at the time, so far as baseball matters went.
“We must win this game, sure,” said Captain Brown, who, since giving the baseball outfit, had taken a special interest in the club.
“I’ll do my share,” said Charley.
“So will I,” added Joe.
A crowd came to witness the game.
In the first inning Charley gave four boys bases on balls and the Greenpointers scored two runs.
“That Lockport pitcher is no good,” said the crowd.
In the second inning Charley pitched a wide ball over Joe’s head.
Our hero did his best to get it, but it was beyond his reach.
He ran like the wind, but before he could grab the sphere another run was scored for Greenpoint.
Meanwhile the Rushers had but one run, made by Dick.
Captain Brown came forward.
“See here, you two must do better than this,” he said to Joe and Charley.
“It’s the ball,” growled Charley. “Let me have a new ball.”
“Nothing the matter with the ball.”
“I say there is,” returned Charley stoutly.
“Let me see it?”
The captain took the ball and examined it.
Then he called the umpire aside.
“Look here, Clarkson, what do you think of this?” he said sharply.
“What’s the matter?” asked the umpire.
“Look at this ball.”
The umpire did as requested.
“Side heavy.”
“Yes. And the cover has been resewed. This is a doctored ball.”
“Don’t know but what you are right. Where did it come from?”
“Don’t know. But the Greenpoint pitcher threw it to Charley Osborne when they went in.”
“Humph! Let us investigate later on. Try a new ball.”
The new ball came out, and several of the Greenpoint team were seen to exchange glances.
“They know something about this,” said Charley to Joe.
With a new ball Charley did better work. He sent in some wonderful curves, and our hero caught out seven men in rotation.
At the end of the first half of the ninth inning the score stood nine to eleven in favor of the Greenpoint nine.
Then the Rushers went to the bat.
It was their last effort to win the game.
“Wake up, boys!” cried Captain Brown.
“Do your best, Dick!”
Dick Burns was the first at the bat.
He hit a safe one to center and got first.
Charley followed, and also reached first on a bunt, while Dick went to second.
The next boy struck out, and the following fellow did the same.
Then our hero came to the bat.
Dick was on third and Charley on second.
“Now is the time for one of your long hits,” said the captain to Joe.
The pitcher of the Greenpointers smiled to himself.
He saw that Joe would hit the ball, and hit it hard, if it came where he wanted it.
Consequently he resolved to pitch the ball as far as possible out of our hero’s reach without getting too many balls called.
“One ball!”
“One strike!”
“Two balls!”
“Three balls!”
Joe understood the pitcher’s trick and got angry.
“Give me something over the plate,” he said.
“Shut up, I know what I am doing,” growled the Greenpoint youth.
He remembered that the boy to bat next to Joe was a weak fellow who could be put out with ease.
Along came another ball.
It was a grounder, but our hero made up his mind to do the best he could with it.
Bang! He hit the sphere with all the power in his arms.
It was a red-hot liner, and it came straight for the pitcher’s head.
The Greenpoint player knew better than to try to stop it.
He attempted to get out of the way.
The ball struck his arm and bounded far out over the foul line between home plate and first.
In the meantime Joe was making time down to first.
Dick came home as if a swarm of hornets were after him, and Charley followed.
The Greenpoint catcher had run for the ball, thinking the pitcher would come up and cover home plate.
But the pitcher did nothing of the sort. Instead he was nursing his arm, which felt as if it had been struck with a brick.
Consequently Dick and Charley had nothing to fear when they came in.
The catcher even when he did get the ball fumbled it and threw wild to second.
Joe reached second and, seeing the ball sailing over the baseman’s head, bounded for third.
The second baseman ran back for the ball and the center-fielder ran up.
The two came into collision and down both went on top of the sphere.
“Throw the ball, Gimp!”
“Send it in, Hemingway!”
Joe landed safely on third. His club was cheering wildly.
“Come in, Joe, come in!”
“They can’t get the ball up!”
The catcher of the Greenpointers was getting frantic. He danced around the home plate like a madman.
“Throw the ball! Throw the ball!” he screamed.
But the ball did not come.
The second baseman managed to get to his feet just as Joe started for home.
Then up popped the center-fielder.
Both looked at each other.
Neither had the ball.
They looked on the ground, but the sphere was not in sight.
By this time every one present was yelling.
“Where is the ball?”
“Throw it in!”
“What kind of a game is this, anyhow?”
Joe was sprinting as hard as he could and was halfway home.
Suddenly the center-fielder put his hand into his shirt, which had been torn open while struggling on the ground, and out came the ball.
The crowd set up a groan.
The Lockport players roared.
Highly excited over the unexpected discovery he had made, the center-fielder let drive the ball for home.
His aim was wild, and the ball flew about six feet over the catcher’s head.
Joe dropped into a walk and sauntered up to the plate as coolly as if out for an evening stroll.
His extraordinary run had won the game.
Perhaps the Greenpoint team was not angry!
The catcher scolded the pitcher, the second baseman howled at the catcher, and the center-fielder said the baseman had put the ball in his shirt.
The game ended right there and the out-of-town club sneaked for their stage as fast as they were able.
It was a long while before they heard the end of that game.
Joe was praised for the way he had served the pitcher with the red-hot liner.
“That’s right, make him pitch you a good ball,” said the captain.
As the Greenpoint Club had been beaten nothing was said about the doctored ball.
But in the future Charley Osborne kept his eyes open whenever he started to pitch with a strange or new ball.