<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></SPAN>CHAPTER XX</h2>
<h3>“WOULD YOU LIKE TO PITCH?”</h3>
<p>“Come now, fellows, let’s get into practice.
Are all the scrub here?”</p>
<p>Darrell Blackney looked around over the
diamond, where about twenty lads were assembled
one fine afternoon.</p>
<p>“I don’t know about the scrub, but all our fellows
are on hand,” replied Rankin. “Is it all
arranged about the game Saturday?”</p>
<p>“Yes, we’re to play the Fayetteville Academy
lads on their grounds.”</p>
<p>“A trip out of town, eh? That’s two in two
weeks.”</p>
<p>“Well it gives our fellows experience in playing
on some other diamond than their own.”</p>
<p>“Oh, it doesn’t much matter. The Fayettevilles
will be easy fruit for us.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be too sure. They’re a younger team,
that’s true, and they haven’t been doing well this
season, but neither have we of late.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“Oh, we’ll beat ’em,” declared the captain confidently.</p>
<p>“I think so myself, but I don’t want you to
take too many chances. Here comes Sam. You
and he get in for some warm-up work, Bart, and
I’ll get the scrub together.”</p>
<p>Darrell went about the diamond, calling to the
various members of the “scrub,” or second
team.</p>
<p>“We haven’t any pitcher,” remarked Blake
Carrington, who acted as captain of the scrub organization.</p>
<p>“What’s the matter with Slater?”</p>
<p>“He hasn’t showed up, and none of the other
fellows feel like getting in the box against you
boys. You’ll have to find us a pitcher before we
can play.”</p>
<p>A sudden idea came to Darrell.</p>
<p>“All right,” he answered. “I guess I can.
Wait a minute.”</p>
<p>He ran over to where Rankin was talking to
some of his players.</p>
<p>“Can you play Tom Davis in centre field for
to-day?” asked the manager.</p>
<p>“Yes, I guess so. Why?”</p>
<p>“I’m going to have Joe Matson pitch on the
scrub. It will be a good time to get a line on him,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</SPAN></span>
and I’ll see if he shapes up as well as the day he
did when I watched him practice.”</p>
<p>“All right; maybe it will be a good idea.”</p>
<p>Joe hardly knew what to say when Darrell, as
calmly as if he had done it several times before,
asked him to go in the box for the scrub and pitch
against the Silver Stars.</p>
<p>“And do your best,” added Darrell. “I don’t
care how many of our fellows you strike out.
Every one, if you can.”</p>
<p>Joe’s heart gave a bound of delight. It might
be the beginning of the very chance he had been
waiting for so long. He calmed himself with an
effort for he did not want to get “rattled.”</p>
<p>“All right,” he answered as though he had
been used to such sudden emergency calls all season.
“I’ll see what I can do. I’d like a chance
to warm up, though.”</p>
<p>“Sure. You and Jake Bender go over there
and practice for five minutes. Then we’ll play a
five-inning game.”</p>
<p>The Stars were to bat first, and there was a
mocking smile on the face of Sam Morton as he
watched his rival go to the box.</p>
<p>“Don’t strike us all out,” called Sam. “We’ve
had hard luck enough lately.”</p>
<p>The game began, and it was for “blood” from<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</SPAN></span>
the very start. Joe was a trifle nervous, especially
when he had two balls called on his first two efforts.
Then he braced himself, and, not trying
for speed, sent in a slow, easy ball that completely
fooled the batter, who eventually struck out.</p>
<p>“Pretty good for a starter,” complimented
Darrell. Sam Morton scowled.</p>
<p>The next batter hit an easy fly which was so
promptly gathered in by the shortstop that there
was little use in the player starting for first. Then
Joe struck out the next lad after he had hit a
couple of fouls.</p>
<p>“That’s the stuff!” cried Tom Davis, as he
patted his chum on the back. “You’ll be in the
box for the Stars yet.”</p>
<p>“Don’t get me all excited,” begged Joe with a
smile. Yet he could not help feeling elated.</p>
<p>There was a viciousness in the pitching of Sam
when he toed the plate that showed how his feelings
had been stirred. He was evidently going to
show how much superior he was.</p>
<p>He did strike out two men, and then came Joe’s
turn at the bat. Our hero thought he detected a
gleam of anger in Sam’s eyes.</p>
<p>“He’d just as soon hit me with a ball as not,”
thought Joe, “and if he does it will hurt some.
And he may be trying to bluff me so that I won’t<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</SPAN></span>
stand up to the plate. I’ll see what I can do to
him.”</p>
<p>Consequently, instead of waiting for the ball to
get to him Joe stepped up and out to meet it before
the curve “broke.” He “walked right into it,”
as the baseball term has it, and the result was that
he whacked out a pretty two-bagger that brought
his mates to their feet with yells. Sam bit his lips
in anger, but he kept his temper by an effort and
struck out the next man so that Joe’s effort resulted
in nothing.</p>
<p>The game went on, and when Sam at bat faced
Joe, our hero could not help feeling a trifle nervous.
He had sized up Sam’s style of batting,
however, and was prepared.</p>
<p>“I’m going to give him a slow ball with an in-shoot
to it,” decided Joe. “He keeps back from
the plate and this will make him get still farther
back. I’m going to strike him out.”</p>
<p>And strike him out Joe did, though not until
after Sam had hit one foul that was within a shade
of being fair. But when on his next two strikes
he fanned the wind, there was a look of wonder
and gratification on the face of Darrell.</p>
<p>“I believe Joe is going to make good,” he said
to Rankin.</p>
<p>“It sure looks so. What about it?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“You’ll see in a minute. I’m going to give him
a chance to pitch part of the game against the
Fayetteville Academy nine—that is if you agree
to it.”</p>
<p>“Sure, go as far as you like.”</p>
<p>At the close of the game, which was won by
the Stars, though by a small margin, Darrell approached
Joe.</p>
<p>“Well?” asked the new pitcher diffidently.</p>
<p>“You did first rate. How would you like to
pitch part of the game Saturday?”</p>
<p>“Do you mean it?” was the eager question.</p>
<p>“Certainly. I’ll put you in for a few innings
toward the end, after we’ve cinched it, for I think
it will be easy for us.”</p>
<p>It was not the highest honor that could have
come to Joe, but he realized what it meant.</p>
<p>“I’d like it immensely,” he said, “but won’t
Sam—what about him?”</p>
<p>“I don’t care anything about him,” said Darrell
quickly. “I’m running this team. Will you
pitch?”</p>
<p>“I sure will!” and Joe’s heart beat high with
hope.</p>
<hr class="cb" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</SPAN></span></p>
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