First Base Faulkner

by Christy Mathewson

Chelmsford had two runs and Amesville three when the last of the sixth started. Amesville had been playing raggedly and batting weakly against an easy pitcher, and only the fact that her opponent had been unable to do much with Tom Pollock’s delivery had kept her ahead. Tom gave place to Carl Moran in the fifth and, ultimately, Carl retired in favour of Toby Williams. In that last of the sixth Sam Craig, who was batting in third place owing to Jack’s absence, got to first on a scratch hit. Hale was an easy out, third to first, and Peddie was passed. The watchers were eager for runs and when Joe went to the plate, swinging his bat, there came cries of “All right, Lucky! Smash it out!” “Bring ’em in, Lucky! Make it a homer!” Joe had never made a home-run in his life and didn’t expect to now, but when, after the runners had attempted a double steal and got away with it, he found a nice, straight ball coming right for the middle of the plate, Joe took a little longer swing, put a little more strength into it, and the deed was done! It was a long way around those bases, he thought, but he didn’t have to hurry after he got to third, for the ball had gone into the left corner of the field and rolled up against the fence! He jogged across the plate finally to the laughing applause of the stands and was thumped on the back by hilarious team-mates.

Perhaps Coach Talbot thought Joe had done enough for one afternoon, for, when the seventh inning began, Joe found, to his surprise, that he was superseded at first base by Frank Foley!

“I’m glad,” he said to himself, “that Jack can’t hear of it. He’d probably have a relapse and die!”

Joe watched the rest of the game from the bench and tried not to be a little bit glad when Foley failed to capture an easy infield fly. The game finally ended with the score 7 to 3, and he walked back to town with the rest and reached the Adams Building at a little after five to find, to his surprise, that the stand was deserted. Supposing that Young would be back in a moment, Joe went behind the counter and waited on a customer. But no Mr. Chester Young appeared, and when Joe rang up the sale and so viewed the drawer of the cash register he thought he knew why! There was not a cent in it except the dime he had just dropped there!

His first sensation was, oddly enough, one of satisfaction over the fact that his original impression of the shifty-eyed young man had been, after all, correct! But that satisfaction didn’t last long. The realization that he and Jack had been barefacedly robbed of at least twenty-five dollars took its place and Joe’s countenance became grim. To add insult to injury, he reflected, Young had had the cheek to demand his wages on the eve of his flight—and get them! Inquiry of Walter, the elevator boy, elicited the information that Mr. Chester Young had complained of feeling unwell and had announced that he was going over to the drug store for some medicine. That had been, as near as Walter could recall, about a quarter to five. It might have been a little before that. Walter evidently had no suspicions and Joe didn’t enlighten him.

The exodus from the building was under way now and for a good half-hour Joe was busy selling papers and cigars and cigarettes, together with an occasional box of candy. But he had plenty of time for thinking, and long before the elevators had brought down their last loads he had determined his course. A hasty survey of the stock in sight showed conclusively that the stand had done a phenomenal business since morning, but it was not until he thought to look under the counter that the real extent of Mr. Young’s depredations came to light.

On the shelves they kept anywhere from thirty to sixty dollars’ worth of cigars, cigarettes and other goods for which there was not room above. At first glance everything seemed all right, but when Joe picked up a box of “Adams Building” conchas and, bringing it to light, discovered it to be quite empty, he knew what to expect of the rest of the stock. When he had pulled all the boxes and packages out their contents would not have fetched two dollars! Only one cigar box held cigars, and then only a handful. Evidently Mr. Young had craftily replaced the full boxes with empty ones and, not having enough of the latter, had been forced to put in one from the case that still held a few cigars. It was the same with the cigarette cartons. Only one was not absolutely empty.

Joe surveyed the litter behind the counter and tried to think it out. At first he couldn’t understand what use the cigars could be to Young. Of course, he might take them away to another town and sell them, but eight boxes of them, as well as several packages of cigarettes and smoking tobacco, would make rather a conspicuous bundle to carry. Then a light broke on him and he quickly lifted the receiver from the telephone instrument on the counter and called up Meyers and Fink. Fortunately, they were still open, and after a moment Joe got the information he expected.