[CHAPTER VII]
SAM OFFERS A SUGGESTION
Dripping and grinning the two warriors were pulled into row-boats and taken ashore, where Mr. Gifford, referee of the tournament, announced the match a draw.
There was a senior diving contest, won by Tom Crossbush, and a junior contest for the younger youths. And there were several other swimming races of varying distances. And, finally, a special race of an eighth of a mile, more or less, between Sam and Steve Brown, in which Sam allowed his competitor something like fifty yards and beat him out handily.
There were no prizes given, but Steve Brown recorded the events and the names of the winners with a hot poker on a wooden panel and the panel was hung in The Wigwam.
The ball games went on twice each week and the Indians, thanks to George Porter’s pitching, distanced their rivals without much trouble. It was well into August before the Mascots again won a victory from Mr. Gifford’s team, having meanwhile lost four more games to it. The Brownies were easy picking for both the other nines, and, in fact, won but two games all the season, defeating the Mascots once, 12 to 10, and the Indians, 7 to 4. In the latter game Porter was suffering, as he later acknowledged, from too many unripe apples, and his pitching was far from being up to his standard. Toward the middle of August there was a noticeable improvement in the work of all the teams. The fellows batted better, fielded better, and ran bases better, and, too, developed not a little team-play. Even the Brownies had their star performer, that same Ralph Murdock who had piloted George Porter through the tilting bouts. Murdock was a born first baseman and a fine batsman as well, and had his team-mates possessed half his ability the Brownies would have been a nine to fear.
The councillors usually played only in practice, but once or twice, by common agreement, they took part in a game. When they did the fielders were busy. Mr. Gifford was the slugging kind of a batter and in one game drove out three home runs, a double, and a single in five times at bat. The Indians were playing the Brownies that day, and Steve Brown, while he did not succeed in rivalling Mr. Gifford’s batting record, always managed to reach first and then showed what could be done by a smart base-runner. He stole second brazenly, using the fallaway slide to such purpose that it was a hopeless matter to try and stop him. Once on second, he had scarcely more difficulty reaching third and on two occasions he made barefaced steals to the plate. In one inning he reached first on a scratch hit and then stole home before the following batsman had been retired! The Indians soon got so that they only half-heartedly attempted to stay him in his delirious romps around the bases, only Mr. Gifford daring to dispute his progress. Mr. Gifford played in centre field and once, having come in almost to the base-line to field a short fly, he conceived the idea of catching Steve off third. Steve was enjoying a twelve-foot lead at the moment, doubtless considering his chance of getting home ahead of the ball. Mr. Gifford pegged suddenly to third baseman and that youth made a perfect catch. But, contrary to expectation, Steve didn’t scuttle back to safety at third. Instead, he dashed for the plate at top speed. Third baseman heaved the ball to catcher. Steve turned and doubled back. Catcher went after him along the base-line. By that time most of the infield had gathered about to help retire the annoying Mr. Brown and there was much shouting and confusion. But it was evidently not the first time that Steve had been caught between bases. He ran and ducked and doubled as coolly and craftily as if he quite enjoyed it, which he doubtless did. And at last, just when the shortstop, who had joined the fray, was on the point of tagging him, Steve spurted back to third, upsetting two players on the way and slid into the bag in safety.
Much applause then from the audience of non-combatants and from the bench where the Brownies were congregated. Much laughter, too, and not a little “ragging” of the Indians. Out near second Mr. Gifford shook a threatening fist at Steve as the latter arose and patted the dust from his flannel trousers. Disconsolately and a bit sheepishly, the Indians returned to their places. At the plate, Jimmy Benson stooped to pick up his mask. In the pitcher’s box George Porter, ball in hand, back to the plate, waited for the fielders to get in position. And at that psychological instant Steve Brown trotted home!
He didn’t even hurry. There was a shout of alarm from the third baseman and Porter turned to see the councillor halfway to the plate. Porter raised his arm to throw, but there was Benson, intensely agitated but helpless, struggling with his mask. And so Steve crossed the home-plate at a slow lope and turned smilingly toward the bench. The ball reached the plate a moment later and rolled against the backstop. The Indians were not allowed to forget that incident for many days.
In another contest, when Sam was playing left field for his team and Mr. Gifford was with the Indians, there was a batting contest that was worth seeing. Sam was something of a heavy hitter himself, and he didn’t find George Porter very difficult. Sam and Mr. Gifford, then, vied with each other and kept the opposing outfields very busy indeed. Mr. Gifford got no home runs that time, but he made a record of two doubles and three singles, and his doubles might have gone for triples if the Mascots’ outfielders hadn’t been playing well back. Sam got one three-bagger, a double, and two singles, on the other occasion popping a foul to first baseman. In the matter of total bases the two councillors came off even, but it was claimed by the Mascots that Sam’s triple had gained him the palm. As far as the game itself went, the Indians won it easily.