Dick Prescott's Second Year at West Point Part 37

"I won't disappoint you, if you do, Captain!"

Then Maitland turned to regard Meacham, who was entering at that moment.

"What on earth ails you, Meacham?" demanded the worried captain of the nine.

"I was at a loot party last night," confessed Meacham miserably.

"Overeating yourself---when you're in training, man?"

"Honestly, Maitland, I didn't believe the little that I put down was going to throw me. There wasn't a murmur until eleven this morning, and I felt sure that was going to work off. But it won't, and, oh, my!"

West Point's shortstop put his hands over his belt line, looking comically miserable. But to Captain Maitland there was no humor in the situation.

"You're a fine one!" growled Maitland. "Oh, Holmesy! Come over here, please. You haven't been teasing your stomach, have you?"

"I don't know that I have a stomach," replied Greg promptly.

"You'll play shortstop today, then."

Half an hour later, the Lehigh fellows were out on the field, going through some practice plays. Below the center of the grandstand, the West Point band was playing its most spirited music. The seats reserved for officers and their families, and for invited guests, were filling up rapidly. At the smaller stand, over at the east side of the field, Lehigh had some two hundred friends and rooters.

Now on to the field marched the corps of cadets, filing into the seats reserved for them, just north of the officers' seats.

Now, the band began to play the U.S.M.A. songs, the cadets joining in under the leaders.h.i.+p of the cheer-master.

Then, amid a storm of West Point yells, the Army nine strode on to the field. Things moved quickly now. Lehigh won the toss and went to bat.

Kennedy appeared to be in excellent form. He struck out the first two Lehigh men at bat. The third man, however, gained first on called b.a.l.l.s. The fourth man at bat drove a two-bagger, and now second and third were occupied. As the fifth of the Lehigh batsmen stepped up to the plate, the Lehigh cheers resounded, and West Point's rooters sat in tense silence. What was the matter with Kennedy? But the Army pitcher struck out his man, and Lehigh went out to gra.s.s without having scored. Lehigh's revenge, though, was swift. Three West Point men were struck out almost as rapidly as they could move to the plate.

In the second inning both sides got men to bases, but neither side scored. In the third Lehigh took one solitary run, but it looked well on the score-board at the north end of the field.

West Point, in the last half of the third, put men on first and second, but that was all.

By the fourth inning, Kennedy was pitching a bit wildly. Maitland gazed at his comrade of the battery with anxious eyes. Lehigh began to grin with the ease of the thing now. One after another men walked to bases on called b.a.l.l.s, until all of the bags were occupied.

Suddenly Kennedy, after taking a twist on the ball, signaled Maitland.

The captain turned the umpire and spoke.

"Kennedy's old trick! He's gone stale and Tatham is down at hospital,"

pa.s.sed from mouth to mouth among the home rooters. "Now, what's left for us?"

After a brief conversation with the umpire Maitland signaled.

d.i.c.k Prescott came bounding in from second, to receive the ball from Kennedy, while Ebbett was seen racing out to second.

"Play ball!" called the umpire crisply.

"Oh, pshaw!" called one of the cadets. "In training season Prescott tried for pitcher and the coaches turned him down. Now we're done for today!"

Spirits were gloomy among the West Point rooters. Yet, within a few moments, they sat up, taking notice.

d.i.c.k, with his nerves a-tingle, his eye keen, measured up the Lehigh batsman and sent in one of his old-time, famous Gridley spit-b.a.l.l.s. It looked slow and easy. The Lehigh man swung a well-aimed crack at the ball.

"Strike one," announced the umpire.

Again Prescott turned his wrist and twirled.

"Strike two!"

Then an outcurve.

"Strike three! Out!"

Lehigh began to look with some interest at this new, confident pitcher.

The next Lehigh man to bat met a similar fate. So did the third man.

Now, the West Point yells went up with new force and purpose.

The corps yell rose, loud and thunderous, followed by three cries of "Prescott!"

In their half of the inning, West Point put men on first and second, but that was the best they could do.

So it dragged along to the seventh inning. Army rooters were now sure that West Point's star pitcher had been found at last, and that Lehigh would have rare luck to score again today. But West Point didn't seem able to score, either, and Lehigh had the one needed dot.

As Army went to bat Greg took up the stick and swung it expectantly.

"Do something, Greg," d.i.c.k had whispered. "I'm the second man after you, and I'll back you if you can get a start. Remember the old Gridley days of victory. Get some of that same old ginger into you!"

Holmes, as he swung the stick over the plate, seemed to feel himself back on the old athletic field of Gridley High School. And these stalwart college boys before him seemed to him to be the old, old Tottenville High School youngsters.

One strike Greg essayed and lost. At the second offer, he hit the ball a sharp crack and started. He reached first, but as he turned, the ball fell into the hands of Lehigh's second baseman, and Greg fell back to safety at first.

Ebbett, who followed, hit at the third offer, driving the ball almost under the feet of Lehigh's right-fielder. As that man seized it he saw that Greg was within kicking distance of second bag, so he threw to first and Ebbett was out.

d.i.c.k now stepped confidently forward. He looked at Lehigh's tired pitcher with a challenging smile.

At the first offer, Prescott struck the leather sphere---crack!

In an instant Greg was in motion, while d.i.c.k raced as though bent on catching his chum. The ball had gone out over the head of center, who was now faithfully chasing it across outfield.

Greg came in and hit the plate amid a cyclone of Army enthusiasm.

The band was playing in sheer joy. d.i.c.k kicked second bag, then darted back as he saw the ball drop into the hands of the Lehigh catcher, who promptly sent it spinning straight into the third baseman's hands.

Then Maitland gained first on called b.a.l.l.s, and Furlong did the same, which advanced Prescott to third.

Now Carson came up with the stick, sending out a slow grounder.

In like an Apache runner came Prescott, kicking the plate just before the ball dropped.

From the seats of the Army came the triumphant yell:

"North point, east point, south point, West Point---_two points_!"