One afternoon Mr. George announced that he had conquered the science of pitching the “knuckle-ball” and set about teaching it to Tom. It wasn’t easy, for Tom’s hand was rather small and his fingers short. In the end, though, he learned to pitch the deceptive ball fairly well, although it never became a favourite offering with him. It did serve him well, however, on many occasions, for the “knuckle-ball,” when properly delivered, is particularly deceptive. Twice a week the high school team met an opponent and marked up a victory or defeat. The team was showing progress each week, but was playing erratically. Several times contests that should have resulted in easy wins for Amesville became victories for their opponents, while, to balance things up, more than once a game that was conceded to the enemy at the start was turned into a triumph for the Brown-and-Blue. Mr. George worked wonders with the battery candidates, for he didn’t confine himself altogether to the pitchers. Sam Craig learned many a trick from the new coach. Pete Farrar showed improvement over his early-season form, while Toby Williams was fast developing into a brilliant pitcher. Only his youthfulness kept Williams back. He hadn’t the strength to pitch nine hard innings and he was never allowed to attempt that feat. But as a relief pitcher he was a big success. The first of June Mr. George, unfortunately for the pitching staff, had to go away and was gone for nearly a fortnight. Tom missed him a good deal, for, although he went into the yard by himself before dinner and practised his curves and breaks, and quite often found someone to don the catcher’s mitt and stand in front of him, it was not like having the detective there to advise and instruct.
Tom’s two afternoons of practice had greatly improved his playing. As a batsman he would doubtless never perform in the three-hundred class, but he was fully as good with the stick as two or three other players who had won places on the team. He soon learned how to field his position and became so adept at throwing to bases that runners no longer took daring leads when he was on the mound. He and Buster, who played first, got so that they worked together like machinery and many an unfortunate runner was caught off just when things looked their brightest.
When June came Tom’s two afternoons of practice became one, but by that time one was sufficient to keep him in condition, since he always had a half-hour workout every day before dinner. Mr. Cummings followed the fortunes of the high school team, and of Tom especially, with great interest. Once or twice a week, usually when there was a game to be played, he would go out to the field and take his place on the players’ bench, evidently under the impression that Mr. Talbot’s original invitation held good for the season. No one, however, ever disputed his right to the privilege and the players seemed to like to have him there.
Sometimes in the evenings Sidney and Tom and one or two of the neighbourhood youths would appear in the vacant lot near Sidney’s home and play ball, but as a general thing Tom and Sidney had had about enough of baseball by dinner time and their evenings were more likely to be spent in less strenuous ways. The Saturday games didn’t interfere with Tom’s trips to Derry and he always spent Sundays at the farm. He had told Uncle Israel about disposing of the pump, and Uncle Israel had merely commented to the effect that all the fools weren’t dead yet! But he had, Tom thought, seemed a bit pleased, nevertheless. When, later, Tom informed him smilingly that he had bought the pump back again, Uncle Israel stared and grunted.
“Seems like you were well enough rid of it before,” he said dryly. “I suppose you expect to find another idiot, eh?”
“Well, I hope to find someone who wants a good pump and is willing to pay half of what it’s worth. Besides, if I can’t sell it, I guess it will always be worth five or six dollars as junk.”
“Maybe, maybe,” replied Uncle Israel with a wave of his big hand. “Anyway, it’s your affair.”
On the first Saturday in June, Amesville was to play its first of three contests with Petersburg High School. Petersburg High was Amesville’s principal rival in all sports and the success of the baseball season was judged by the outcome of the Petersburg series. Naturally Tom expected to go into the box for the high school that afternoon and was much surprised when, after he and Pete Farrar and Toby Williams had warmed up, Coach Talbot announced that Farrar was to begin the game. Sidney, who was seated beside Tom on the bench, grumbled.
“That’s a silly way to do,” he said. “Pete’ll put us in a hole and then you’ll have to go and pull the game out of the fire. I don’t see why he doesn’t let you start it.”
“He wanted to,” said Tommy Hughes, at Sidney’s elbow, speaking in low tones, “but Frank threw a fit about it. Bat knuckled right under to him. I thought he had more backbone.”