Lawrencetown was given locker room in the basement of the Administration Building, and while they were getting into their uniforms the Pennington team completed that ordeal and appeared in a group on the steps of the gymnasium building where the Pennington band was waiting for them. Immediately the school’s marching song pealed forth, and the players, with Mr. Rice and Mr. Clarkson leading, and Captain Tad directly behind them, started across the campus for the field.
As they came into sight of the bleachers, a wild cheer started that rolled on and on and developed into a thunder-like roar as they finally reached the center of the diamond where they were scattered to their positions by the coach, while the school band took its place in the stands.
Warming up practice started with enthusiasm for the fellows had suppressed themselves so long that only a lot of vigorous physical action could serve to “let them down” and bring them back to normal.
Dutch Hecht found his particular mace and began “batting ’em out” to the outfielders, while Captain Tad, the sturdy little catcher, began to slash some hot ones to Jeff and the rest of the infield.
It was surely snappy practice and before long the Pennington rooters began to realize that their team was at the very top of its form and that if the Lawrencetown aggregation were as good, they were destined to see a game that would be historic.
And the Lawrencetown players soon proved that they were in every bit as good form. A wild cheer greeted their appearance about twenty minutes after the Pennington fellows had arrived on the field, and, of course, the home team came in to the bench while the fellows wearing the red and black stocking of the visiting aggregation took the field. There was snap to their practice, too. The infield worked as smoothly as a well-oiled machine, and their lightning-like handling of the ball, their snappy throws and remarkable “get” soon had even the Pennington rooters on their toes.
“They are good, mighty good, and you boys are going to know you were in a game when you get through to-day,” said Coach Rice. Then, looking at his watch, he added, “Come on, Tad. They are coming in now and here comes the umpire. Get your men out into the field. Here’s the batting order.”
Jeff, who was pulling on his glove, looked over Tad’s shoulder to read the line-up of players. He noticed with interest that the batting order had been shifted slightly. Long Lafe Gammage led off, with Mickey Daily next in line and walloping Dutch Hecht third man up. They were the “big stickers” of the outfit. Captain Tad followed and Wade Grenville came in fifth. Jed Stafford, also a reliable clouter, was sixth. He found his own name seventh, Buck Hart eighth and pitcher George Dixon last in line, though big George was not a weak batter as pitchers go.
“Well, fellows, let’s give ’em both barrels—all we got. Win the game in the first inning if we can but play hard all the way through,” said Captain Tad. “Come on. Let’s go.”
The fellows romped out to their positions and big George Dixon, with his slow deliberate stride, walked out to the pitcher’s box, spat into his glove, took the shining new ball that the umpire offered him, and turned to face the batter: the first man up of the Lawrencetown team, a chap by the name of Southers, who played second base and was a formidable batter.