Bobby Blake in the Frozen North; Or, The Old Eskimo's Last Message

by Frank A. Warner

But there was another interest that held the attention of the boys to a degree greater, it is to be feared, than their studies.

The baseball fight that season between the teams composing the Monatook Lake League had been fiercer than ever before. All of the teams were comparatively strong, considering the age of the players, and the contests had been close and exciting. But in the end it had narrowed down to a contest between Rockledge and Belden, each of which had won and lost the same number of games. The crucial game was to be played by these two hot rivals on the Belden grounds, and feeling was at fever heat in each school.

While in fielding ability there was very little to choose between them, it was generally admitted that Belden had the “edge” on Rockledge in the matter of batting. This had been shown by the scores of the games that had already been played. The Belden tallies were much in excess of those rolled up by the Rockledge boys, and the former had a formidable list of three-baggers and homers. The Rockledge victories on the other hand were marked by small scores, and had mostly been won by the good pitching of Bobby in the box.

So the forthcoming contest had resolved itself in the minds of the boys into a struggle between heavy batting and good pitching. Which of the two would prevail?

The Belden boys thought that they could give the answer. They had never before felt so confident, and they were jubilant at the fine showing made by their team with the bat. It was freely predicted that Bobby would be sent to the bench before the game was half over. And with him out of the game, the Belden boys felt that they could simply romp in, for Howell Purdy, the other Rockledge pitcher, while fairly good, was admittedly not in the same class as Bobby.

But on the other hand, the Rockledge boys had seen Bobby too often “come through” to feel depressed at the prospect. They knew that he would have to face a fiercer attack than usual.

“But,” said Fred, “we are sure that before long Bobby will have those redoubtable sluggers eating out of his hand. The bigger they are the harder they fall.” And this fairly expressed the feeling prevalent among his mates.

Bobby himself said little, but worked away like a beaver to perfect his curves and slants and develop his speed. He had never felt in better trim, and in his secret heart had little doubt that he would pull out the victory. But he refrained from predictions, and to the questions that were showered upon him by his comrades merely replied that he was going to do his best.

The great day came at last and was marked by brilliant sunshine. This was a slight disadvantage for Bobby, because a cloudy day is reckoned as an asset to a pitcher, as it makes it harder for the batsman to gauge the ball. Of course this affected the Belden pitcher, too, but not to such an extent, as the Belden boys were not placing as much reliance on the pitching as Rockledge was forced to do.

The fact, too, that the game was to be played on the Belden grounds was, of course, an advantage to that school. The grounds themselves were more familiar to their nine, and they would have the greater number of rooters to cheer on the home team and rattle their opponents.