Fast Nine Part 13

"Only that the colonel seemed determined, and he does not like anyone to oppose him, I sure would have declined this lift," he said to himself.

But on the whole, he could not say that he would have had anything different from the way events had come to pa.s.s, even though he had the making of the chart. And he was inclined to agree with the colonel in declaring that if any misfortune could ever be looked upon in the light of a lucky accident, that puncture which he had given his tire just as he reached the place he was heading for was such.

When he arrived home he found his father waiting for him. And since the gentleman's curiosity had been stirred by those words of the colonel, he was bent on asking questions until he learned the whole facts.

Elmer was not a boaster, and he made no attempt to show himself up in the light of a hero. But reading between the lines of his story, his father saw that there might be still more to hear when he met the colonel in the morning, as he was now fully determined to do.

Perhaps, after such an exciting experience, the boy did not sleep as soundly as he might have done under ordinary conditions. But the event had made a powerful impression on his mind, and the generous conduct of his old friend toward his erring servant had served to teach Elmer one more lesson that might at some future day bring forth good fruit.

He did not mention the matter save to his best chum, Mark; and even he was placed under bonds never to reveal it. The colonel had asked this as a favor, for he did not want the story to get to the ears of Phil Lally's old mother.

Of course, it would soon be known that he had taken Phil back again as his head gardener, and that all matters against the young man had been quashed; but that was n.o.body's business save the two involved.

Monday came, and about every boy in and around Hickory Ridge, upon getting out of bed that morning, made a bee line for the window and consulted the signs of the weather. For it was certainly going to be a famous day for those who were fond of the great national game, since the Boy Scouts of the neighboring town of Fairfield were due to meet their nine in a struggle for victory.

And not only Hickory Ridge and Fairfield, but Basking Ridge, where the game was to be played on neutral territory, seemed baseball mad.

Elmer himself had hardly gotten downstairs before he heard the phone bell ring, and, as no one else was around, he answered it. Just as he surmised, it proved to be one of his chums, Red Huggins, after him for information.

"How about this weather business, Elmer?" demanded the other, as soon as he learned that he was in touch with the patrol leader.

"Well, what about it?" returned Elmer, chuckling. "I hope none of you think to hold me responsible for whatever comes."

"Oh, shucks! you know better than that," retorted Red, eagerly; "but we've heard you explain just how they know what sort of a day it's going to be, away up there in the Canadian wilderness, and we want your opinion right now. Ted and Toby are over at my house and I'm commissioned to hold you up and get an answer, so's to know what to expect. See?"

"But see here, why d'ye want to know how the weather away up in the Northwest is going to be to-day? Have you got any wheat planted; or do you mean to put the steam plow into that quarter section, if the signs are favorable?" demanded Elmer.

"Aw, let up on a feller, Elmer, can't you?" went on the other, in what was meant to be a wheedling tone. "We want you to make use of the knowledge you picked up away off yonder, to tell us what sort of afternoon it's going to be. Get that, now? Is there any rain storm in sight? Will it be as hot as the d.i.c.kens; or are we in for a cold wave?

We want to know, and we depend on you to tell us. Open up now, won't you, and be good?"

"Oh, is that all you want?" laughed Elmer. "Why, if I could tell you what's sure going to happen eight hours ahead I'd hire out to the government as Old Probs."

"But you can hit it pretty fair, Elmer," persisted Red. "Come on, now, and tell us. We've seen you do it lots of times, and nearly every shot came true. Now, some of us think we're due for a rain, because the sky was a little red this morning. And you know that old saying, 'Red in the morning is the sailor's warning.' What do you think? Give us a drive now. Elmer."

"Well, I took a squint around from my window, and so far as I could see----"

"Yes, sir; but go on, Elmer," broke in the impatient Red, nervously.

"It was a beautiful morning."

"Oh, rats! We all know that much, Elmer; but the signs, what do they say? If it pours down rain the game's all off, and that means bad luck to our fellows," Red went on, being addicted to a belief in all sorts of signs and tokens; just as the boy from South Carolina, Chatz Maxfield, was a believer in ghosts, and charms, and the hind foot of a rabbit killed in a graveyard at midnight by the light of the full moon.

"Don't worry, Red," Elmer went on, purposely holding back the desired information, since he owed this comrade more than one long-standing debt because of tricks practiced by the prank-loving Red.

"Then the signs _are_ favorable; do you mean that, Elmer?" begged the other.

"The sky looks good to me. The little color you saw was only the rosy flush of a summer dawn. And the breeze seems to be coming from the right quarter, Red. I don't think it's going to be a roasting day for August."

"That sounds all right to me, Elmer. On the whole, then, you predict that we'll have a decent afternoon; just the kind to spur every fellow on to doing his best licks?" continued the boy at the other end of the wire, with joy permeating his tones.

"I never predict, and you know it," laughed Elmer. "All I can say is that just now things look good. If the clouds don't come up, and it stays as clear as it is right now, the chances are we'll not get wet."

"Oh, rats! but you've said enough to tell me what you think, and that's the main thing. Do we practice any this morning, Elmer?" asked Red.

"The last thing I heard from Captain Lil Artha, he said he didn't want a stale team on his hands this afternoon, so there'll be no regular practice this A.M. I expect to toss a few over with Mark, just to make sure I've got control; but as the game promises to be a pretty warm affair, it's best everybody keeps rested up until we get in practice half an hour before the umpire calls on us to play. Anything more, Red?"

"No, nothing; only the boys here want me to ask you how your arm feels."

"Fine and dandy," laughed Elmer. "Couldn't be in better shape. If those swatters from Fairfield straighten out my curves this afternoon, it'll only be my own fault. You won't hear me complaining I wasn't in condition, for I am."

"Bully boy! We all know what that means when you're feeling right. I'm sorry for Matt Tubbs and his crowd, that's all," Red said over the wire; whereupon Elmer, unable to stand for any more of this palaver, cut him short by hooking up the receiver.

When later on he went out with Mark to do a little preliminary pitching, every boy they met seemed to fall in behind, until there was quite an imposing procession heading for the field where Hickory Ridge athletic contests were always pulled off.

They understood that everything depended on the ability of the pitcher of the Hickory Ridge Boy Scout nine to baffle these heavy hitters from Fairfield; and hence, everyone wanted to see for himself just what Elmer could do on the eve of the great and important battle with the bats.

Elmer would much rather have found a chance to do his practicing in secret; but at the same time he sympathized with these kids who were baseball mad. So for half an hour he and Mark worked their many little games, and exchanged signals that were supposed to be known only to themselves, while groups of fellows lounged under the neighboring trees and kept tabs on their actions, commenting favorably on every play that struck them as cleverly done.

Later on Elmer, having donned his sweater because of his heated condition, was waiting for Mark to join him, the latter having gone off to speak to a girl who was pa.s.sing in a little pony cart, when he was suddenly startled to have a hand laid on his arm and hear little Jasper Merriweather say in a thrilling tone:

"It's all off, Elmer; they've got you marked for the slaughter. If you pitch this afternoon, those sluggers from Fairfield are going to just knock you out of the box. It's a mean shame, that's what it is, now!"

CHAPTER XII.

STEALING THE SIGNALS.

"WHAT'S that you're talking about, Jasper?" demanded the pitcher, whirling on the smallest of the scouts, whose father kept a tailoring establishment in town and made the khaki suits worn by the Hickory Ridge troop.

Jasper was a very timid fellow as a rule. His chums were often joking him about the truth of the old saying, to the effect that it took nine tailors to make a man, and that in consequence he had a heap to pick up.

But Jasper took these things in good part, because he knew his failings even though trying the best he could to overcome them.

He was looking very much worried when Elmer turned on him. The hand that had been gripping the sleeve of the pitcher's sweater fell to his side again. Elmer noticed that the boy shot a quick glance toward a group of fellows who, seeing practice was over for the day, seemed to be getting their wheels out, as if intending to ride away.

"Why, I'm afraid it's all over but the shouting for Fairfield, Elmer!"

replied the small scout, in answer to the question Elmer fired straight at him.

"You don't say?" retorted the other, laughing. "Well, my work must be pretty bad, if even Jasper Merriweather calls it rotten. Whew! the boys had better be trotting out their other pitcher, if I'm going to be sent to the stable so easy."

"Oh, it ain't that, Elmer, sure it ain't, because don't I believe you're the best pitcher in the whole world?" pleaded Jasper, looking pained that his fidelity was being doubted in the least.

"Then whatever ails you, Jasper?" continued the other, realizing all of a sudden that perhaps there _might_ be something worth noticing in this strange conduct of the scout belonging to the Beaver Patrol.

"It's the signals, Elmer; the signals you and Mark have been practicing, don't you see?" Jasper cried.

"h.e.l.lo! so that's what troubles you, is it?" remarked Elmer, seriously.