The discussion grew warm, after a while, and Larry and Ben were brought into sharp antagonism. There had been rumors that Larry Boyne had dared to show to Miss Alice Howell some of the little attentions with which the young swains of the region were wont to manifest their admiration for a young lady of their choice. He had even gone so far as to ask her to allow him to drive her to a little dancing party given in Darville, one of the numerous rivals of Catalpa, a little prairie town on the Rush River Railroad, twelve miles distant. Alice, warned by a suggestion from her father, who exhibited a species of panic at the bare idea of the invitation, had declined the young man’s kindly offer, and had stayed at home to murmur at her hard fate. Ben Burton could not seriously cherish a belief that Larry Boyne was “paying attention” to the Judge’s daughter; but he felt that he, somehow, owed him a grudge.
The impending storm, if any really did impend, blew over when it was ascertained by ballot that Hiram Porter was the choice of the club. And Hiram, who was tall, dark, strong, long of limb, handsome and skillful, was accordingly chosen captain of the Catalpa nine. Ben Burton, with some show of generous magnanimity, clapped Hiram on the back and boisterously congratulated him on his having secured the coveted honor of the captaincy. But Larry, with a manly air, said, “You’ll find that all the boys will take orders from you, Hi, with as much cheerfulness as if we were soldiers in the field and you were leading them to battle. Isn’t that so, fellows?”
The rest of the young men noisily and heartily asserted their allegiance to their chief, and the new club began their final preparations for the field with enthusiasm and harmonious goodwill.
By the evening lamp, that night, in Judge Howell’s house, the matter was discussed by the Judge and his daughter. “It is an excellent choice, Alice, my child, don’t you think so?”
“Certainly, papa, but it is not of very great importance, after all, who is captain of the nine. ‘The play’s the thing,’ as Hamlet says; isn’t it Hamlet, papa?”
“I don’t know about that, my little girl, I am somewhat rusty in my Shakespeare; but the play is the thing, I suppose. Nevertheless, since social rank does not go for much in baseball, I should have been glad to see Larry Boyne made the captain of the new nine.”
“Oh, papa, that was not to be thought of. He is a new recruit. Who knows how he may turn out? He may be a secret emissary from Jonesville to throw the game, someday.”
“Bless my life!” cried the Judge, “I never thought of that.”
VI
An Interesting Episode
Although the stock of the Catalpa Baseball Club was divided among many shareholders in the town of Catalpa, it was evident that the mere holding, or non-holding, of shares made no difference with those who were engaged in the active duties of playing. To be sure, the nine had not yet begun their summer campaign. The first of April was early enough for the beginning of outdoor practice, and active work in the field would not open until the first of May; but enough had been done, in the preliminary organization and preparing for the summer’s work, to test the temper of the members of the club. It was not a purely businesslike venture into which these young men had gone for the purpose of making capital or money for themselves. They were burning to retrieve the reputation of “Old Catalpa” as they called their town, albeit it was one of the youngest in Northern Illinois.
And so, as Larry Boyne and Al Heaton were sitting on the rail fence that encloses the Court House of Dean County, in Catalpa, discussing the future prospects of the club, both were confidential and intimate in their exchange of opinions concerning the members of the nine.
“No, I tell you that you are wrong, Al, in your estimate of Ben Burton,” said Larry, earnestly. “I do not think that I could be prejudiced against Ben; and I try to judge him fairly; and so I cannot bring myself to believe that he would be tricky, or that he would undertake to play any foul game on me, or on anybody else, for that matter. He is sullen and moody, at times, and I know that he took to heart his defeat as candidate for captain of the club. I know that he don’t like me, although I don’t know why he should dislike me, as he certainly does.”
“Pooh! Larry,” was Albert’s frank reply, “you know well enough that he fancies that you are in his way as a suitor for the hand of a certain young lady, whose name shall not be mentioned even in this very select society. He knows that that young lady smiles on you in the most bewitching way, and he knows—”
“Oh, see here, Al,” interrupted Larry, with flaming
