The Crimson Sweater Part 37

"Surely," answered Roy. "But we certainly rowed the pluckiest kind of a race. Look at the way we overhauled them there at the last!"

"Fine!" said Thurlow.

"Swell!" said Sid.

And in this way they found surcease for their disappointment; which was as it should have been. A race well rowed and won is something to be proud of; a race well rowed and lost may be quite as creditable. Pluck and sportsmans.h.i.+p is always the criterion, not merely victory. Many a time has a defeated crew or eleven taken off the first honors. Ferry Hill's game finish to a heart-breaking race--rowed, as the timers'

watches proved, twelve seconds under record time for the course--more than atoned for her defeat.

"After all," said Thurlow, "it wasn't that our crew was poorer than we thought it was, but that Hammond's was a blamed sight better. Why, we must have finished six or seven seconds under the record!"

"Sure," answered Chub more cheerfully. "It was a dandy crew and Horace deserved to win. If the fellows know their business they'll re-elect him for next year. I don't like the chap a bit, but he certainly did row a fine race!"

"That's right," responded the rest as they climbed the hill back to school. And by the time the campus was reached they were all smiling as though victory instead of defeat had fallen to their lot. All save Chub.

Chub was very unhappy, but not over the race.

"Lots of good you did," he said to Roy as they made their way across to the dormitory. "You might as well have squared yourself; we got beat anyhow."

"Maybe, but that doesn't change the--the ethics of the thing," replied Roy.

"Ethics!" snorted Chub. "I'll bet ethics won't help us to win from Hammond this afternoon. Oh, I dare say it's all mighty fine and heroic, Roy, but it's blamed hard on me!"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, I dare say, but you're not half as sorry as I am," answered the other ruefully. "Look here, now. The race is all over and done with.

Let's go see Emmy now and tell him what we know. What do you say? Shall we? He can't refuse to let you play."

But Roy shook his head.

"I'd rather not, Chub. I decided not to tell on Horace and I'm not going to, ever. That's settled. Besides, Emmy wouldn't let me play now; he'd say I ought to have told him as soon as I found it out."

"Wish to goodness you had," groaned Chub. "You're an obstinate beast, Roy. If I didn't like you so well I'd punch your fool head for you!"

Chub wasn't the only one disappointed and disgusted by Roy's stand.

Harry had almost given way to tears when she had learned of his resolution.

"After all my trouble!" she had wailed. "I don't think it's very--very appreciative of you, Roy Porter!"

But in the end she, like Chub and Jack, had been bound to secrecy, promising not to tell her father. That she hadn't been cautioned against telling anyone else had been merely because Roy had known her ability to keep her own counsel.

"I suppose he will let you come and watch the game, won't he?" asked Chub as they parted on the stairway.

"Yes, he gave me permission to see both the race and the game," answered Roy. "And I'll be there, never fear. I'm going to help Hadden and Cole with the cheering."

"Well, so long. I'll see you at dinner. We're going out at two-thirty.

You'd better come along."

The breeze died away about noon and when, at half-past two, the nine and subst.i.tutes went out to the field and the spectators began to a.s.semble, the heat was almost unbearable. But it was a good baseball day, for after one has once begun to perspire freely he can play ball to the King's taste. Hammond trotted on to the diamond soon after Ferry Hill and went to work practicing Ferry Hill remaining at the batting net until a quarter to three. Then the two nines changed places and Mr. Cobb began knocking out the ball.

The stands were well filled by three o'clock and fans were waving l.u.s.tily. Along one edge of the field Hammond Academy's supporters, nearly a hundred strong, squatted on the gra.s.s and strove to keep the burning rays of the sun from their faces by using their flags and pennants as screens. Across the diamond Ferry Hill had a.s.sembled, fortunate in having the stand behind them to throw some shade where they sat. Roy and Hadden and Cole were to lead the cheering and to this end had armed themselves with brown megaphones. Coats were discarded, while on the seats green and white and brown sunshades made brilliant blots of color. In the center of the main stand sat Doctor Emery, Mrs. Emery and Harry, and with them as guests of honor were Doctor Hammond, Princ.i.p.al of the rival academy, and his wife. It looked at first glance as though Harry had joined the enemy, in spite of the brown banner she carried, for in her lap was something hued much like the Hammond's brilliant color. But it was only Roy's sweater which, having been repaired, Harry had brought along to return to its owner. An enterprising citizen of Silver Cove was doing a rus.h.i.+ng business selling "ice-cold drinks! Lemon pop, sarsaparilla _and_ root beer! Who's next?"

At two minutes past the hour Chub and O'Meara, respectively captains of Ferry Hill and Hammond, met at the plate and watched the umpire spin a coin.

"Heads!" cried O'Meara.

"Tails," said the umpire, stooping to rescue the coin. "What do you want?"

"We'll take the field," replied Chub.

Then out they trotted, nine st.u.r.dy young figures in grey suits and brown and white striped stockings, while Roy, Hadden and Cole shook their megaphones and students and graduates and friends shouted enthusiastically.

"Ferry Hill! Ferry Hill! Ferry Hill!" rang the slogan, "Rah, rah, rah!

Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Ferry Hill!"

Hammond answered promptly. Then Ferry Hill cheered for Hammond and Hammond returned the compliment. The umpire walked down to his position behind pitcher, tossed a nice, s.h.i.+ny white ball to the redoubtable Post, Ferry Hill's crack pitcher, and casually remarked:

"Play ball!"

CHAPTER XXVI

THE GAME WITH HAMMOND

_Ferry Hill_ _Hammond_

EATON, 2b MULLEN, 3b BACON, ss O'MEARA, ss THURLOW, 3b STONE, cf PRYOR, lf YOUNG, rf KIRBY, cf HARTLEY, 1b PATTEN, 1b HYDE, 2b COLE, c TAFT, lf WELCH, rf SMITH, c POST, p ROLLINS, p

Post showed his ability in that first inning. Not a man reached first.

Three strikes and out was the invariable rule, and Ferry Hill went wild with joy. If Post could serve Hammond's best batters in such fas.h.i.+on what hope was there for her tail-enders?

But Post was not the only one who could strike out batsmen. In the second half of the inning Rollins disposed of Chub, Bacon and Thurlow in just the same fas.h.i.+on, and so far the honors were even. Ferry Hill, who had loyally cheered each of the warriors as they stepped to the plate, looked less elated. The game speedily resolved itself into a pitchers'

battle in which Rollins had slightly the better of it. Two innings pa.s.sed without a man getting safely to first base. Then Sid, who was still rather bulky in spite of the hard work he had been through, got in the way of one of Rollins' in-shoots and trotted to first ruefully rubbing his hip. He made a valiant effort to profit by Post's scratch hit to shortstop but was easily thrown out at second. Not satisfied with this, Hammond played the double, catching Post a foot from the base.

That was in the last of the third. So far the game had dragged along uninterestingly. But now things began to happen.

O'Meara was the first man up for Hammond. Perhaps Post let down for an instant. At all events, the Hammond captain lined out the first hit of the contest, a long, low two-bagger which made the cherry and black flags wave ecstatically. Then Stone sacrificed and O'Meara sped to third. Young fouled out to Patten, who made a brilliant catch after a long run. Hartley hit to Bacon who threw home. O'Meara doubled back to third and Hartley was safe on first. Hyde, with a record of three strike-outs against him, managed to find something quite to his liking and knocked out a sharp grounder between Chub and Bacon. O'Meara came home for the first run of the day amidst wild cheers from the Hammond side, and Hartley got to third. The coaching was incessant and Post got a little bit rattled.

Taft bunted along first base line and Post ran for it, scooped it up and threw, to Patten. The throw was a little wild, but it seemed that Patten should have got it. As it was it went over his head and had not Sid been on the spot to back him up things would have been worse than they were.

Hartley scored, but Hyde was put out at the plate, Sid being the hero of the play. Two runs to nothing.

Ferry Hill went in with Bacon up. A scratch hit to third followed by slow fielding took him safely to first. Thurlow flied out to pitcher, Pryor sacrificed and Bacon reached second. Kirby got four b.a.l.l.s and took his base. Patten struck out miserably.

Again, in the fifth, Hammond scored and an error went down in Thurlow's column. Ferry Hill had begun to have listless moments which boded ill for success. Errors were becoming too frequent to be merely accidents; it was a case of discouragement. Post, however, in spite of the gradual weakening of the most of the nine, held up his end n.o.bly. And Chub never for a moment eased his pace. But the rest of the team, if we except Cole, who was catching Post steadily and well, were plainly suffering from a fit of stage-fright. Whether the attack was to be temporary or permanent remained to be seen. Ferry Hill's supporters were getting uneasy; three runs to nothing seemed a pretty long lead with the game more than half over!

Cole got his round of applause when he stepped to bat in the last of the fifth and it seemed to hearten him. Rollins was still pitching the best of ball, but Cole was a weak batter and the Hammond twirler proposed to rest his muscles when the chance afforded. So he started out to dispose of Cole with as little effort as possible. The first two deliveries went by and were called b.a.l.l.s. Then came a strike; then another ball. It was time for Rollins to get down to work. Cole let the next one pa.s.s him, hoping that it would give him his base, but the umpire announced strike two. Cole gripped his bat a little farther toward the end and got ready. Smith, the Hammond catcher, read this to mean that he was resolved to strike at the next ball no matter what it looked like and signalled for a drop. It came. The umpire glanced at his tally and waved toward first.

"Four b.a.l.l.s!" he called.