CHAPTER XII
SCRANTON FANS HAVE A PAINFUL SHOCK
The nine from Mechanicsburg showed up that afternoon on time. They were a husky-looking lot of young chaps, accustomed to hard toil in the mills, and with muscles that far outclassed the high-school boys. But, as every one knows, it requires something more than mere brawn to win baseball games; often a club that seems to be weak develops an astonishing amount of skill with bat and ball, and easily walks off with the victory.
Mechanicsburg was "out for blood" from the very start. They depended a great deal on their slugging abilities, and declared that no pitcher the Scranton players might offer could resist their terrific onslaught.
When the first inning was over at last it began to look as if their boast might be made good, for the score stood five to one. Frazer was in the box for Scranton, Hugh not wishing to use his star pitcher unless it was absolutely necessary. He was a bit afraid that something might happen to Tyree that would put him on the bench and thus they would be terribly handicapped in their first game with Allandale on the following Saturday.
Now, Frazer was a pretty dependable sort of a slab artist, and if the Scranton boys had not had Alan Tyree they might have believed him a Number One. But while Frazer had a number of good curves and drops, and a pretty fair amount of speed, he seemed only able to deceive those huskies from Mechanicsburg in spurts.
Between times they got at him for successive drives that netted two and three bases each. Indeed, in that very first inning the fielders of the home team were kept on the jump at a lively rate chasing smashing blows. To tell the truth, all three outs were made on enormous flies that seemed to go up almost to the very clouds, and gave "K.K." out in the middle garden, and "Just" Smith, who had charge of left field, a big run each time before they could get their hands on and hold the ball.
In the second time at bat the visitors did not do as much. Perhaps Frazer managed to tighten up, and pitch better ball. He was very erratic, and could never be depended on to do consecutive good work. In every other inning the heavies could not seem to gauge his work at all, and he mowed them down. Then they would come at him again like furies, and knock his offerings to every part of the field as though he might be an amateur in the box.
Hugh watched the fluctuations of the game with more or less solicitude. They could hardly afford to be beaten by a team like Mechanicsburg, he figured, as he saw Frazer "fall down" for the third time, and a catastrophe threaten.
It was the sixth inning.
Scranton had done more or less scoring on her side, so that the figures were mounting rapidly, and it promised to be an old-fashioned batting bee. It now stood nine to twelve in favor of the visitors; and as they had started another of their rallies no one could say what the result might be by the time Scranton once more came to bat.
There was a small but noisy delegation from the other town present, and they kept things pretty lively most of the time, cheering their fellows, and hooting the slightest opportunity when Scranton failed to connect, or one of the high-school boys did not make a gilt-edged pickup.
Nor were the Mechanicsburg rooters alone in this jeering. As usually happens, there were a number of fellows in Scranton who entertained feelings of jealousy toward the local nine, based on an idea that they had been purposely overlooked when the choice of players was made.
Chief among these malcontents was the town bully, Nick Lang, whose acquaintance the reader has already made in a previous volume, and under exciting conditions. Nick at one time had a good chance of making the nine, for he was a hustler when it came to playing ball, and indeed, in nearly every sport; but as might be expected, he managed to display his nasty temper in practice, and Coach Saunders, who heartily disliked and distrusted the big fellow, speedily turned him down.
Nick, as usual, had his two faithful henchmen along with him, Leon Disney and Tip Slavin; and the trio led the hooting whenever a chance came to rub it into Scranton. Some of the visitors hardly liked this; it smacked too much of rank treachery to please them. It was all very well for visitors to deride the home team in order to "rattle" the pitcher; but for fellows living in Scranton to indulge in this sort of thing did not seem right.
Hugh believed he had had quite enough of this see-saw business. If Frazer was going to "jump" in that miserable fashion the game was as good as gone. He disliked doing it the worst kind, but he saw the appealing look Frazer shot in his direction on third when the visitors once more started their bombardment. It meant Frazer had lost all confidence in his ability to stop the threatened rally; and that he was making signs for help.
So Hugh took him out.
It was Alan Tyree who stepped into the box, and began to toss a few balls to the backstop, in order to limber up his arm; while the visiting batsman waited the signal from the umpire to toe the home plate, and get ready to strike.
Just three times did Alan send in one of his terrific shoots that fairly sizzled as they shot past; three times the heavy batter cut the thin air with his club, and then walked over to where his companions sat in a clump, watching curiously to see how the change was going to work.
Up came the next visitor on the list, who also made light with the offering of poor Frazer. Did he start a batting bee all over again? Well, not that any one could notice it. The best he could do was to fan the air on two successive occasions, and then send up a twisting foul that Thad Stevens managed to hold, after a pretty erratic chase back and forth.
Now it was the loyal home fans who began to root long and hard. They scented victory, and it seemed good after so much bitter humiliation at the hands of this newly organized team, most of them strange to their positions, and capable of many fielding errors, but able to remedy this by their ability to bat.
The third out followed in quick succession. Scranton sighed with relief, and the fielders had had a rest. They were really getting tired of chasing wildly after all those terrific smashes, and of seeing the big fellows running the bases at will.
Hugh led off in the next inning, and the renewed confidence put in the whole team by the change of pitchers showed itself. When that inning was over the locals had reduced the lead of Mechanicsburg to one run; and they fully anticipated wiping that slight advantage out in the next round.
Tyree still held them close. They knocked several fouls, and one man actually went out through Juggins in far right, managing to sprint fast enough to grapple with a soaring fly that came his way across the foul line. The rest struck out, being almost like babies in the hands of the wizard Tyree.
Well, the locals not only wiped that lead out but went two better, so that it now began to look as though they had the game "sewed up," with Tyree pitching championship brand of ball, and every fellow keyed up to playing his best. Wonderful infield work saved Alan from having the first hit marked up against him in the eighth frame, for several of the hard hitters were up again, and they managed to swat the ball with a vim; but only to have Owen, or it might be Morgan on third, intercept the speeding horsehide, and whip it over to waiting Old Reliable Joe Danvers on first for an out.
The game really ended with that inning, for Scranton made five runs, having a nice little batting bee of their own for a change. In the ninth the visitors got a man on first through a juggle on the part of Hobson on second, though Julius was really excusable, for the ball came down to him with terrific speed, and though he knocked it down he could not recover in time to get it across the infield so as to cut off the speedy runner.
But when the visitor started to make for second Thad Stevens had him caught by two yards, his throw down being as accurate as a bullet fired from a new Government army rifle.
After all, the boys were satisfied to come out of the scrimmage as well as they did, for those big Mechanicsburg chaps were terrors with their bats; and equal to making a home run at any stage of the game.
It had been good practice for Scranton, every one admitted, though some confessed that their blood had actually run cold when Frazer gave such palpable signs of distress.
Hugh was worried more or less. He wondered what would happen if Tyree could not play in the big game with Allandale. Frazer might redeem himself, it is true, for the pitcher that goes to the well, and is dented on one day, often comes back later on and does wonderful work. Still, as the following week passed day by day, and Saturday came closer, the field captain of the Scranton High team seemed to feel a strange premonition that there was trouble in store for them.
And his fears did not prove groundless, after all, as it turned out; for there was trouble a-plenty waiting for the local team, spelled with a capital T in the bargain.
The day came, and everything seemed all right as far as the weather went. It was hot enough to make the players feel at their best without causing them to wilt under the burning rays of the sun. Clouds at times also promised relief, and the immense throng that gathered on the open field where Scranton played, for there was no high fence around it, believed they were due to witness a sterling game, with the two teams well balanced.
Of course Allandale had beaten unlucky Belleville easily on the preceding Saturday, while Scranton was "toying" with that aggregation of sluggers from Mechanicsburg, and almost getting their fingers burned while doing so. The "Champs," as the visitors delighted to call themselves, seemed to have an air of confidence that impressed many an anxious Scranton rooter, and made him wonder how Tyree would stand up against that mighty slab artist, Big Ed Patterson. This Allandale pitcher seemed capable of outwitting the smartest batter by giving just what he wanted least of all, as if he knew every fellow's weaknesses, and could take advantage of them at will.
Then the blow fell.
It cast gloom over the whole Scranton camp, as the horrible news was quickly circulated through the various groups. Boys turned to look at one another aghast, and the grins on their faces assumed a sickly yellow hue.
Word had been brought to the anxious Hugh that Alan Tyree would be utterly unable to be on the field that day, not to speak of pitching. An unlucky accident after lunch had injured his left leg, and the doctor absolutely forbade his getting into uniform, or even leaving the house, under severe penalty for disobedience.
It was in the nature of a dreadful calamity, after the way Frazer had been actually knocked out of the box by those crude players from Mechanicsburg. Still the game must be played, or forfeited to Allandale; and Scranton fellows are not in the habit of giving anything up without the hardest kind of a struggle. So with a sigh, and trying to appear calm, Hugh turned to his second-string pitcher.