Four Afoot: Being the Adventures of the Big Four on the Highway

by Ralph Henry Barbour

That was a strange and wonderful game!

Neither Nelson nor Bob—nor for that matter Tom nor Dan, who merely looked on—ever quite forgot it. The first inning was not over before it became evident that in the annual contests between Mannig and Laurelville “everything went.” It was “anything to win,” and “dirty playing” was not only looked for but applauded vigorously. The rivalry was intense, and the feeling between the opposing teams was not of the best.

That first inning ended without a score. Mannig had won the toss and had gone into the field. Nelson had disposed of the first three Laurelville batsmen in short order, and his reputation, which had grown at leaps and bounds during the forenoon, went up still farther. He was variously said to be a “second-string” pitcher from the New York American team, an A1 twirler from the Hobokens, borrowed for the occasion, and a youthful wonder from some small team in New Hampshire. Nelson, however, was quite unaware of the interest and curiosity which he was arousing.

But if Laurelville had failed to get to first in that inning, Mannig could boast of no better success. Her first three men went out quickly, Burns flying to shortstop, Morris striking out, and Kleinschmidt being easily beaten to first by the ball. There was all sorts of noise from the audience, and everybody, from the small boys along the base lines to the players themselves, showed intense excitement.

Laurelville had no better luck during her second inning, Nelson disposing of three men with exactly seventeen deliveries.

Harrison, the Mannig second baseman, a fellow of twenty-six or -seven years and a powerful batter, opened up for his side in the last of the second. He didn’t find Mr. “Slim” Somes very difficult, it seemed, for he caught the first ball delivered on the end of his bat and sent it flying over first baseman’s head for a hit. The next batsman sent him on to second and was caught himself at first. Then came Fultz, the manager, who played in center field. He had two strikes called on him before he offered. Then he found something to his liking and knocked a long fly into left field. Left fielder failed to get under it, and Harrison romped home. Fultz was safe on first.

The Laurelville supporters jeered and shouted in an effort to drown the wild acclaim of the Mannigites, but to little purpose. If Mannig’s cheer wasn’t musical, it was at least powerful, and it made the welkin ring for a while. By the time things had quieted down somewhat, Bob was at the plate. Fultz evidently expected a sacrifice which would put him on second, but Bob wasn’t used to playing sacrifices with one man out. The result was that on the first delivery Fultz streaked for second. The Laurelville catcher shot the ball down to shortstop, and Fultz walked off the diamond to the hoots and catcalls of the enemy. The incident worried Bob somewhat, and in a moment he had struck out. Fultz was feeling a trifle sore and let Bob know it as they trotted out to the field together. But Bob expressed such deep contrition that the manager regained his temper and laughed it off.

The first of the third brought the Laurelville tail-enders to the bat, but the tail-enders proved more formidable that inning than the head of the batting list had theretofore. The second man up—the first had been easily disposed of—found Nelson for a two-bagger. The next man, the redoubtable Somes, got Nelson so rattled by his remarks and monkey tricks that Nelson gave him, very unwillingly, you may be certain, his base on balls. Then came a wild throw to third by Conly, who hoped to catch the runner napping, and Laurelville scored her first run.

If there had been noise before, there was pandemonium now!