Fast Nine: or, A Challenge from Fairfield

They went on exchanging opinions, and in due time arrived at the Bailey house, where Elmer delivered his charge to the owner of the big woods.

On the way back they neither saw nor heard anything of Toby, though they could easily imagine him hard at work trying to get his broken parachute in shape, so that it might be transported back to town, and fixed up for another exploit.

It would not be in boy nature to keep such a remarkable story secret, and before night it had likely traveled from one end of Hickory Ridge to the other in about a dozen different shapes. Some even had it that Toby had flown a mile before being caught in a tree, while others had him a wreck, with all the doctors in town trying to patch him up. But Elmer went straight to Mr. Jones, and gave him the true version, so that he might not be alarmed at anything he heard.

CHAPTER VII.

MORE WORK ON THE DIAMOND

When Lil Artha showed up on the field that afternoon, clad in his old baseball suit that showed the wear and tear of many a battle, he had his camera slung over his shoulder with a strap.

"Want to take the nine in action?" asked Elmer, as he noted this fact, and paused in his delivery of the ball to the catcher, Mark Cummings.

"Oh, I might, if the signs were right, and they showed that they deserved all that sort of attention," replied the tall scout, "but I've made up my mind about one thing, Elmer."

"What might that be?" asked the other, smiling at his friend's seriousness.

"I'm going to carry this little box around with me day and night, that's what. Just the time you want it most you haven't got it along," declared Lil Artha, with a look of sheer disgust.

"Well, I always heard that a fellow could see all sorts of game when he didn't happen to have a gun," laughed Elmer; "and I suppose the same thing goes with a camera. But I can guess what's ailing you now, my boy."

"Of course you can," grinned the other. "Say, just think what it would mean to you and me if we only had a picture of Toby Jones kicking the air up in that old tree, and learning to swim! Wow, no chance of us ever getting the blues while we had that to look at! It would have been the funniest ever. And to think it's all lost to us, just because I was silly enough to leave my box at home. Shucks!"

"Don't suppose Toby would pose it over again, do you?" suggested Larry Billings, who was passing a ball with Matty Eggleston, the leader of the Beaver Patrol, and one of the reliables in the nine.

"Well, hardly," Lil Artha replied. "I reckon Toby got enough of hanging that time to last him right along. Is he here this afternoon?"

"Sure he is, and as chipper as ever. Only grins when anybody tries to josh him about flying. Nothing ever feases that feller. He comes up again after every knockdown, as fresh as a daisy. Says he's going to give the old town a sensation some day before long. And he means it, too," remarked one of the other boys near by.

Elmer and Lil Artha exchanged meaning glances, and presently the latter managed to whisper to his companion of the morning:

"Did you do it, Elmer?"

"I asked my father what I ought to do, and he sent me over to tell Mr. Jones the whole story, because all sorts of yarns were going around, and he said Toby's mother might hear something awful had happened, and be frightened."

"And what did Mr. Jones say?" continued Lil Artha.

"He laughed a little," replied Elmer, then looked serious like. "I rather expect he'll put a crimp in Toby's flying business after this, though up to now he's rather encouraged the boy, thinking it was smart in him. Now he sees the danger. But get out in the field, and throw in a few from first, old fellow."

The scene was an animated one, with boys in uniform and without, banging out high flies, passing balls, and exercising generally. It really seemed as though every one in the town who could get off must be there that afternoon to see how the Hickory Ridge team gave promise of playing when up against the strong Fairfield nine.

Girls had come down in flocks, and not a few men were present, among whom Elmer noticed his old friend, Colonel Hitchins.

This fact caused him to remember something, and the sight of his catcher, Mark Cummings, fitted right in with his thoughts. Apparently Mark had also noticed the presence of the Colonel, for after throwing up his hand as a signal that he had had enough of practice for the time being, he advanced toward Elmer, and was presently speaking in a low tone to him.

"See who's here, Elmer?" he asked.

"Well, I notice a lot of mighty pretty girls for one thing," smiled the other.

"You know I don't mean them, or any particular girl," replied the catcher, who was a singularly modest lad as well as a handsome one. "Over yonder in that bunch – the old colonel!"

"Oh, yes, I noticed him a bit ago," remarked Elmer. "But that isn't surprising. He's always taken a heap of interest in boys' sports, and used to play baseball many years ago, he says, when it was a new game. He told me he was in a nine that played the old Cincinnati Reds the first year they ever had a league. And that was a long time ago, Mark."

"You're right, it was, Elmer; but when I saw the colonel it reminded me that so far I haven't done anything about finding out how that lost cap of mine happened to be picked up under his peach trees, when I dropped it a mile away, over on the bank of the Sunflower."

"I heard that two men had been arrested, charged with stealing those peaches," Elmer remarked.

"Yes, that's so, for they were silly enough to sell the fruit to Phil Dongari, the man who keeps the biggest fruit store in town. Colonel Hitchins could tell his prize peaches anywhere, so he went and bought them back again; and getting a line on the men, had them put in the town cooler, where they are yet."

"Just so, Mark; that's ancient history," smiled Elmer; "but as you say it doesn't do the first thing along the line of explaining how your cap got under those same trees, does it?"

"But, Elmer, I'm relying on you to get a move on and find out something before the trail gets cold," argued Mark.

"That sounds pretty fine, my boy," observed Elmer; "but what makes you believe I can do anything to help out? You've got all the advantages I have."

"That's so," admitted Mark; "only I'm a greenhorn about following a trail, and you know heaps. Besides, something in your manner seems to tell me you've already got a hunch on about this thing."

"Oh, that's the way you look at it, eh?" mocked Elmer.

"Yes, I haven't been going with you all this time not to know how to read your face and actions," replied Mark, boldly. "And it's my honest opinion right now that if you chose you could put your finger on the culprit."

"Thank you for your confidence, my boy; but I'm not quite so dead sure as you make out," returned Elmer.

"But you think you know?" protested Mark.

"I believe I've got a good clew; I admit that, Mark."

"Were you over there again?" demanded the other.

"Now you're referring to where you lost your old cap, I take it?" Elmer said in a noncommittal way.

"That's just what I mean – over on the bank of the Sunflower, where Lil Artha began kidding me, and in consequence my cap fell off. You rode over on your wheel, didn't you, Elmer?"

"Well, yes, I did," the other admitted; "but not like you, to look for the cap, because at the time I went I happened to know it had been found, and you had it at home."

"Then why should you bother going all that way over a rough path? Hold on, let me change that question, because I see why you wanted to look over the ground. Did you find anything there to tell you who picked that cap up?" and Mark looked directly in the face of his chum.

"If I did you needn't expect that I'm going to tell you about it till I'm good and ready," laughed Elmer. "And that will be inside of twenty-four hours, perhaps. This is Saturday, and by Monday night I hope I'll be in a position to show you something interesting. Just bottle up till then, my boy. And now there's the scrub team going out, so we have lost the toss and must take our first turn at bat."

Mark knew that it would be useless trying to urge his chum to relent. Elmer no doubt had some good reason for holding off longer. So, although he was very anxious to learn the solution of the mystery connected with his cap, Mark put the matter out of his mind for the time being and prepared to play ball.

The game was, as before, hotly contested.

Johnny Kline, as captain of the scrub, bent every energy to beating the regulars, and pitched as he had never done before. But Elmer was also in fine fettle on this bright Saturday afternoon. His speed was better than ever; and when in pinches he floated the ball up in one of those tantalizing drops, he had the heaviest slugger guessing and beating the air in a vain attempt to connect.

The crowd numbered several hundreds, and they were as ready to applaud any clever work on the part of the scrub players as Lil Artha's team. And with such a host of pretty high-school girls present every fellow strove to do his best in order to merit the hand clapping that followed every bit of fine play.

For five innings the score stood at nothing to nothing. Elmer was equal to each and every crisis, and somehow the boys back of him did not seem able to solve the puzzling delivery of Johnny Kline any better than the scrub team did that of the scout pitcher.

In the sixth there came a break. Lil Artha led off with a rousing two bagger, and the next man up, who happened to be Chatz Maxfield, sent him to third with a clever sacrifice, for which he was noted.

Then along came Red, who was equal to the emergency, and whipped out a tremendous fly which the fielder caught handsomely, but tumbled all over himself in so doing; and of course the long-legged first baseman had no difficulty in getting home before the ball could be returned to the diamond. Indeed, Lil Artha was such a remarkable runner that once he got his base his club counted on a tally three times out of four.

That broke the ice, and in the innings that followed the boys took sweet revenge on Johnny's benders, smashing them to all parts of the field until the spectators were roaring with laughter and a halt had to be called to let the overworked fellow in center come in to get a reviving drink of water.

The result of the game was a score of eleven to two, and neither of these runs for the scrub were earned, but presented to them on errors in the field.

"It looks good to me," remarked Red Huggins, as he and several others of the scouts plodded homeward after the conclusion of the game. "If we can do as clever work on Monday as we did this afternoon, those Fairfield giants won't have a show for their money."

"And that's what we're going to do, just you make your mind up to it," declared Lil Artha. "And to think what a great catch our Toby made when he had to run and jump into the air for that liner. Shows he's all to the good, no matter if he did get such a bounce this morning. We'd miss him if he took a notion to fly away between now and Monday p. m.," and the speaker cast a side glance toward the right fielder, who was limping along, talking over the game with Ty Collins.

"Oh, there are several good fellows just waiting for a chance to break in!" declared Red; "Larry Billings, for instance, who can hit 'em some; Jack Armitage, who is nearly as swift as Lil Artha on the bases; and George Robbins, who knows how to rattle a pitcher to beat the band. I guess we don't need to worry, since we've got plenty of good material handy in case of accidents."

"But Toby isn't going to fail us," asserted Elmer. "He's too good a scout not to know his duty in this crisis. For we've just got to beat that Fairfield crowd this time, or we'll never hear the end of it."

"Don't worry, fellows; if we play like we did to-day we'll have their number, all right. Wait till you see how Elmer teases their heavy batters with that drop of his! There'll be need of a lot of dope after the game, for the arms that swing nearly out of joint swiping the air. Wow, don't I wish to-morrow was Monday, though!" and Lil Artha gave further emphasis to his wrought-up feelings by a certain gesture that was one of his peculiarities.

"I've heard lots of people say Hickory Ridge never had so fast a nine before," remarked Matty.

"Thspare our blushes, pleath!" laughed Ted Burgoyne, who could never conquer that hissing habit that caused him to lisp, though no one ever heard him admit the fact, which he always vigorously denied.

It was a jolly and well-satisfied party of athletes that journeyed back to town from the field where the game was played. Even the members of the badly beaten scrub could not but feel a certain pride in the work of the regulars, and declared that if the boys could only do as well in the game with Fairfield there need be no fear of the result.

And luckily Sunday would come as a day of rest before the match game at Basking Ridge was to take place.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE PUNCTURED TIRE

It was Saturday night.

Elmer Chenowith had put in rather a strenuous day, all told, what with that morning walk, the rescue of poor Toby from the tree top, and then nine full innings of warm work pitching during the afternoon hours.

But he fancied he did not feel half so used up as Toby, for instance, after his fall into the branches and vain struggles for release.

It was about eight o'clock when the telephone bell rang, and as he was alone in the library at the time, Elmer answered the call. To his surprise he recognized the voice at the other end of the wire as belonging to Colonel Hitchins, for once heard those smooth, even tones could never be mistaken.

"Is Elmer at home?" asked the gentleman.

"Yes, sir, this is Elmer talking with you," replied the boy, wondering immediately what could be wanted.

"Oh, is that so? How do you feel, Elmer, after your hard afternoon's work? I was much pleased with your pitching, and meant to tell you so, only I found myself called to town by a message from the head of the police; for it seems that by some bad management they let those two rascals slip through their fingers – the fellows who took my fruit, I mean. Are you dead tired, my boy?"

"Oh, not at all, sir. I took a bath as soon as I got home, and feel first-rate right now. Did you want me for anything in particular, colonel?"

"Well, I'm afraid you'll think me as impatient as any boy," laughed the gentleman, "but the fact is, that box I mentioned to you as coming from India has just arrived this evening, and I'm going to unpack it. I had an idea that if you weren't too tired, possibly you might like to jump on your wheel and come over to give me a little help."

"Of course I will, sir, and only too glad!" declared Elmer, for he knew about what that marvelous box was supposed to hold, and fairly itched to be on hand when its contents were exposed.

"But are you sure you are not worn out after that hard game?" persisted the old gentleman.

"Well, I could ride twenty miles without much trouble if I had an object back of it; and I certainly do want to see what you told me was in that box of curios, colonel. My father will be in at any minute now. I'll tell him where I'm going, and I'm sure he won't object, for he likes me to be with you. Then I'll jump on my wheel and run across. I've got a good lantern, you know, and there's a fairly decent road most all the way."

"Good! I shall expect to see you soon, then, Elmer," said the gentleman, who had taken a deep interest in the boy.

"I ought to be there inside of twenty minutes, I expect, sir"; and Elmer cut off communication, because he heard his father's step in the hall.

When he communicated the message of Colonel Hitchins to Mr. Chenowith there was not the slightest objection raised to his going. Well did that father know he could trust his boy anywhere, and at any hour, without feeling anxiety as to what sort of company he was in. And the father who has this confidence in his son is to be envied indeed.

So Elmer got his wheel from the back hall where he usually kept it and, passing out, was quickly on the way. His lantern lighted the road in front of him fairly well, and since he was not apt to meet with many vehicles at this hour he could make pretty good time.

Just as he arrived close to the gate leading into the large property belonging to Colonel Hitchins, he heard the well-known hiss of escaping air that told of a puncture.

"Well, now, wouldn't that just jar you!" he exclaimed in disgust, never dreaming at the time what a tremendous influence that very same incident was destined to have upon his fortunes. "Now I've either got to ask the colonel to give me a lift home, which I certainly won't do, or else trudge all the way back on foot, trundling my old wheel, for of course I couldn't expect to put a plug in without daylight to work by. Oh, well, it's all in the game. Let it go at that."

In this manner, then, free from care and ready to take the hard with the easy, Elmer pushed his useless machine ahead of him as he walked along the drive leading to the house, far removed from the country road.

As he passed the peach trees that had been shorn of their prize contents Elmer was, of course, reminded of the lost cap; but whatever he thought, he said nothing aloud to indicate that he had solved the mystery.

"There's old Bruno giving tongue," he presently remarked. "What a deep bark he has! Wonder what he would do if he broke loose right now? But he ought to know me well enough. Still, I hope the chain holds him. And here I am at the house."

Once again did he enter and pass along to the library where the colonel spent most of his time when at home. Elmer remembered that the last occasion of his entering that room was when he accompanied Mark there, as the other was responding to the request of the colonel that he would call and see him.

"Glad to see you, Elmer; and this is nice of you, humoring a cranky old fellow like me when you deserved your rest to-night," was the way the gentleman met him as he entered.

"I rather guess, sir, that I'm the one to feel grateful, because of your letting me be with you when you open that big box"; and he eyed the case with the foreign markings, knowing that it held many almost priceless objects, which the other had secured when last in India and left there until he chose to send for them.

A servant came in with a pitcher of iced grape juice and some cake.

"Before we get to work, suppose we sample this, my son," remarked the gentleman, smilingly; for Colonel Hitchins knew boys from the ground up, even though he had never had any of his own.

A little later the lid of the case, which had been loosened previously by one of the servants probably, was lifted off, and the colonel began to take out the costly little articles that were so snugly packed in nests of paper and cloth.

These he placed upon the table as he brought them forth. They were of ebony, copper, brass, and ivory. Elmer had never before looked upon such a queer assortment of curios. And the best of it was that nearly every one represented some sort of adventure in which the present owner had taken part.

He related the story of each as he placed it there on the table and fingered it, while allowing memory to once more recall the lively incidents.

Elmer never passed a more enjoyable evening in all his life. Why, it seemed to him that Colonel Hitchins must be one of those wonderful story-tellers he had read about in the Arabian Nights Entertainment. And yet, strange though many of these narratives might be, he knew they were absolutely true, which made them seem all the more remarkable.

So deeply interested had the boy become that he hardly noted the flight of time. When a clock struck eleven he drew a long breath.

"I'm afraid I must be going, sir," he said, rising regretfully. "I promised my father not to stay longer than eleven, but I was surprised when I counted the cuckoo notes, for I thought it was only ten o'clock!"

"Thank you, Elmer," said the other, as though greatly pleased. "That was as delicate and yet positive a compliment for my powers of entertainment as I have ever received. I will not try to detain you, because I appreciate the confidence your father puts in you. Give him my best regards. I expect to have him over next week with a couple of other friends, for a hand of whist, and they will then see what you have helped me unpack to-night."

True to his resolve, Elmer had not mentioned the fact that his tire being flat, he would either have to push his wheel all the way home or leave it there and come on Monday, when in daylight he could render it serviceable again. For he knew the genial colonel would insist on getting the colored driver out, have him hitch up the horses, and take his guest home; something Elmer did not care to have happen.

Having shaken hands with the old gentleman again, Elmer made his way to the front door and passed out. By this time he knew more or less about the arrangements of both house and grounds, and when the idea came to stow his wheel away until he chose to return for it, he remembered that there was an outhouse where some garden tools were kept, just around the main building.

"I guess I'll see if it's unfastened, and if so I'll leave my old wheel there. It'll be safe in case of rain, too. Wonder if Bruno will act half crazy when he hears me moving around."

While thinking after this strain, Elmer was softly trundling his wheel around to that side of the mansion where he remembered seeing the tool house he spoke of. Not wishing to make any noise that might excite the chained hound, or be heard in the house, he kept to the turf as he walked.

"Now that's queer," he said to himself, as he stopped to listen. "Just when I expected to hear Bruno carry on wild, he's as still as a clam. And yet a while ago he was barking fiercely, too. Must have tired himself out and gone to sleep; or else he's broken loose again, and is taking a run over the country, as the colonel says he always does when he slips his collar."

However, he was not at all sorry for this silence. Had the hound, hearing his suspicious and stealthy movements, started to baying and yelping, he might have drawn the attention of some servant, who would be apt to give him trouble.

And so Elmer presently discovered some dark object looming up alongside him; which on closer inspection proved to be the very tool house of which he was in search.

And better still, the door turned out to be unfastened by any lock, a staple and a wooden pin doing the holding act.

Groping around until he found a way to open the door, Elmer carefully pushed his useless wheel inside. Then he as quietly closed the door again.

"I suppose somebody will be surprised to find a bicycle inside of a tool house," he chuckled, as he began to fasten the door again just as he had found it; "but if the fact is brought to the colonel's attention, trust him for understanding how it got there, and why."

Turning once more, he started to retrace his steps, intending to pass around the house and out at the gate that lay some distance away. A mile was not so very far to go, even for a tired boy. And as he had said, that cold bath had worked wonders for his muscles.

Elmer had gone possibly one half of the distance to the gate, when he believed he detected something moving ahead of him. The first thought that flashed across his mind was that it must be Bruno, who was in the act of returning home after a little run about the country.

He hoped the big dog would recognize him as a friend before attempting to jump at him; for Elmer knew that Siberian wolf hounds are not the easiest animals in the world to handle when met in the dark.

So the boy prepared to speak, in the hope that Bruno would recognize his voice. Better after all to arouse the house, than have the dog attack him under the impression that he was a thief.

Again he detected that movement as he stood perfectly still alongside the bush. This time, however, it struck him that it did not seem so much like a dog; and while he was trying to figure this out, another sound came faintly to his ears. Whispers! That meant human beings, and at least two, or they would not be exchanging remarks!

Could it be any of the servants belonging to the house? Their actions would not warrant such an idea, for Elmer could now see that the two dusky figures were creeping along, bending low, and behaving in the most suspicious manner possible.