[CHAPTER XX]
STOLEN PROPERTY
Erskine met with defeat that afternoon.
Arrowden did pretty much as she pleased; base-hits were as plentiful as errors; the former were to the credit of the visitors, the latter were the property of the home team. When it was over, and the audience had clambered soberly down from the stands to shake their heads disappointedly over the showing of the Purple as they tramped through the golden evening back to the town and the college, Patterson, the manager, slipped his pencil back into his pocket and softly closed the score-book to shut from sight the obnoxious figures, 15—3. It had been a veritable Waterloo.
In the locker-house little was said. Every one realized that the team had taken a slump. Hanson stood aside, and “Baldy” Simson became the man of the hour. His was the task of getting the men back into condition, a task requiring patience and vigilance and all the knowledge that many years of experience had brought him. This was no time for fault-finding; on the contrary, Hanson was silent, and “Baldy’s” tone was cheerful and soothing.
The news of Erskine’s trouncing brought delight to the hearts of the Robinson players and coaches. Down there at Collegetown they had been having troubles of their own of late. The brown-stockinged team was inferior to its last year’s predecessor, and its coaches believed that if Erskine came to Collegetown in two weeks with a nine equal to that of the previous season she would win the dual championship. So it was that Erskine’s defeat by Arrowden brought encouragement to Robinson; for Robinson had met Arrowden ten days before and had shut her out to the tune of 5 to 0. What pleased Robinson worried Erskine. The college at large, with last year’s overthrow in memory, scented defeat. Hanson wrote four telegrams on Sunday. The tenor of all was the same; that to Thomas G. Higgins, captain of the defeated nine of the spring previous, read as follows:
“Need you badly. Come at once. Wire when.”
Joe Perkins dropped a pound of weight every day until the middle of the week. Examinations were imminent, and this fact, with his own condition to think of and the worry caused by the general slump, came very near to making him quite useless on the diamond or in class-room. There was no practise on Monday for those who had played against Arrowden. They were told to stay away from the field and rest. Joe moped in his room until Tracy called for him and again took him out in the automobile.
Jack went to second base that afternoon, and during the hour and a half’s practise made a good showing. His throwing to first and to the plate pleased Hanson vastly. On Tuesday the first nine was still largely composed of substitutes. Joe and Tracy remained out and the battery was Knox and Griffin. “Wally” Stiles, the regular second-baseman, was out, but as he wore his every-day clothes Jack knew that the second bag was his for the afternoon.
Showell played Bissell’s place at center-field during the fielding practise, and later, when base-running began, was selected to start the procession. He played well off of first in obedience to Hanson, and when Mears cracked a short grounder toward third base he was able to reach second with time to spare. Jack was standing just in front of the base-line, arms outstretched toward third-baseman, and Showell saw his opportunity to get even for the uncomfortable position in which Jack had placed him on the occasion of the mass-meeting. Lunging out of the base-line he struck Jack in the back with his left shoulder with all the force he could summon. Jack pitched forward on to his face, rolled over, and lay there, feebly kicking the turf with his heels, and Showell flung himself on to the bag.