With Mask and Mitt

by Albertus T. Dudley

Rob's thoughts did not linger on the affairs of the Pecks. The first real game was coming on Wednesday with the N——University nine. Rob's whole attention in the two practice days before was concentrated on learning about the play of his new position from Poole and Lyford—in fact from any one who could give him information. He knew, of course, that in theory a fielder while running for a batted ball is supposed to keep in mind the positions of the base runners and anticipate their movements so that when the ball is at last in his hands he need waste no time in sending it to the right place. In putting this obvious theory into practice, though suffering from lack of experience, Rob had the advantage of his catcher's training in watching bases. In throwing in from the field, however, this catcher's training was distinctly a handicap, for the short-line throws across the diamond are very different from the long returns from the outfield. Rob could catch flies as well as any one, but he despaired of ever feeling at home in right field.

Patterson took the change of catchers still more to heart. When Poole informed him of the new arrangement, he stood aghast, too much astonished to protest. But he immediately made full speed for Rob's room, and there he vowed that he should not, could not, would not pitch to Borland or any one else but Owen; they might drop him if they chose. Here Rob's newly acquired courage served him in good stead. He explained that Poole was promoting Patterson to a better catcher, that he had no reason to think that Borland would not do for him quite as much as Owen could, and that in any case they must both obey orders and work for the success of the nine. Patterson listened, was half convinced, and yielded.

So it happened that when the game with N——University opened, there were two players on the Seaton nine, the pitcher and the right-fielder, who felt ill at ease in their positions. The Seatonians were in the field. Big Ames was at first, in place of Weaver. Patterson, seeking to make up for lack of confidence by enforced deliberateness, slowly raised his arm and shot in the first ball. The batsman let it go and the umpire called a strike. Then came a ball and a strike in succession; and then, following Borland's signal, Patterson threw a drop, the batsman hit the ball on the upper side, sending a slow grounder toward third. Durand ran up to meet it and flung it hastily and wide to first, where Ames, stretching to his full awkward length, held it and saved an error. The next man went out on strikes, the third on an easy fly to Owen. The Seatonians came in to bat, and went out as easily as their predecessors.

Then in the second inning came trouble. The first man up sent a fly to Poole, and of course was out. The second was given a straight, swift ball which was called a strike; Borland signalled to repeat, but the batsman was ready this time and drove the ball out into centre field so far that he had no difficulty in taking second. The next man bunted and beat Borland's throw to first. Worried by this, Patterson sent the third man to first, on balls, and the bases were full. The batter following fouled out to Durand, and the spectators felt better.

Two men out and the bases full! The new batsman came up, recognizing his opportunity clearly. The first ball looked poor, and he let it pass—a strike! The second he struck at but did not hit. Patterson held the ball and watched his catcher's signal—Straight over. It was risky, he saw plainly, and contrary to the principles laid down by Owen; but Borland was supposed to know, and it would really be a feather in his cap to strike out the third man with the bases full. And he put it straight over.

Crack! sounded the bat. With a start Patterson wheeled about and watched the ball soar over Sudbury's head and bound far away in the tennis nets. The batsman raced around the bases, touching the plate just as the ball reached Patterson once more. Four men had scored on the hit!

The next man went easily out, but Patterson was not to be comforted. He blamed himself; but of this he was sure, if Owen had been behind the plate the thing would never have happened.

"Never take chances with the bases full," Owen had always preached, and Patterson, as he sat scowling on the bench, thought of his four spare balls and groaned in bitterness of spirit. Durand got a hit, Owen went to first on balls, and Ames brought one of them in, but Patterson was not encouraged. In the next inning he let his opponents make three hits that yielded two runs, and at the beginning of the fourth O'Connell appeared in his place in the pitcher's box.

How it happened that Seaton won that game in spite of the handicap of five runs at the fourth inning was explained in various ways. Some said O'Connell's pitching had held the enemy down; others that luck and good fielding by Seaton and bad errors on the part of the visitors were the chief causes. All agreed that the nine had shown an encouraging ability to hit the ball and play an uphill game.

Such consolation as Owen was able to give during their intermittent presence together on the bench, Patterson received with stolidity and monosyllables. He was meditating a radical move. After the game was over he sought out Poole.