Struck out, Catalpas, 2; Black Hawks, 5.
Our esteemed fellow citizen, Benjamin F. Burton, especially distinguished himself with his fine play at shortstop, and Larry Boyne, of Sugar Grove, did some of the most brilliant work in the game, having made the highest number of runs of any man in the Nine, and being “like lightning” as a third baseman. Great excitement prevails in Sandy Key, but our men have been treated with distinguished courtesy by the citizens. The receipts at the gate were nearly $1,000.
When Al Heaton came home, next day, he was the hero and oracle of the hour. By reflection, he was shining with the honors of the Catalpa Nine. Wherever he went about the town, he was sure to become the center of an admiring knot of fellow-citizens and small boys, eager to learn how the absent ballplayers bore themselves in the arena at Sandy Key.
“I tell you what it is, fellows,” said Albert, “you should have seen ‘The Lily,’ as they call Bill Van Orman, get on the home base in the fifth inning. He never stopped to look for the ball. He seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, and just as he was on the point of being caught out, when he was at least ten feet from the home base, he gave a lunge and threw himself flat on his stomach, ploughed up the turf as he plunged forwards, and, reaching out, grabbed the bag with his hands before he could be put out. Ten feet did I say? Well, I should say it was nearer fifteen feet. And you should have seen ‘The Lily’s’ track where he scooted along that turf.”
“The Leaf’s correspondent telegraphed that Ben Burton covered himself all over with glory,” remarked Jason Elderkin. “How was that?”
“Well, you see that Ben, being at shortstop, had many opportunities to do good work, and he put in some very fine licks at different times. For instance, in the first play he put out Harris, the Black Hawk’s pitcher, after having muffed the ball, and then picked it up on the run. Everybody said it was one of the best infield plays of the day. And in the eighth inning, he made a beautiful run, stealing two bases just as easy as falling off a log. Oh, I tell you, Ben is a first-rate player, and they say that the Captain of the Chicago Calumets was down there and wanted to know if Ben would go into their Nine, next season. Ben was very high and mighty about something, and I guess that that was what was the matter with him. He was very much set up about something.”
The mention of the famous Calumets evoked much enthusiasm among the baseball connoisseurs of Catalpa, and it was noised about the town that that club might be induced to accept a challenge from the Catalpa Nine. Albert Heaton, when asked what he thought of the possibility of such an event, shook his head.
“I tell you what, Doctor,” he said to Dr. Selby, “we all thought it pretty cheeky in our boys to accept a challenge from the Black Hawks, and it is astonishing that we got out of the scrape as well as we did. To be sure, we came off with flying colors, and we have made a great reputation, that is to say, the boys have, for I am not in the Nine. But the Calumets are the champions of the State, and I suppose they will be to the end of the season; to the end of the chapter, unless something very unexpected happens. I guess our boys had better be contented with the laurels they will win outside of Chicago, this year, at any rate.”
But that very day while Albert was strolling across the bridge with Miss Alice Howell, and pouring into her ear a glowing account of Larry Boyne’s prowess in the field at Sandy Key, he told her, in the strictest confidence, that the Catalpas would never be satisfied until they had measured their strength with the famous Chicago nine, the Calumets.
Alice’s eyes sparkled, whether with the excitement stirred by Albert’s narrative of Larry’s exploits, or at the prospect of so bold a dash for fame as that proposed by the Catalpas, it is not easy to say. The young girl’s ardor cooled when she considered the chances against the success of the Catalpas in so unequal a contest.
“I did not believe that we should beat the Black Hawks,” said she. “I was almost sure that we should be defeated, and when the tide began to turn in favor of the Catalpas, I could not bring myself to believe that we were actually going to carry off the honors of the day. It was a famous victory, to be sure, and I hope that the Nine will be able to do as well through the season, and then, if all goes well, another season may see them pitted against the best nine in the state, even the best in the country; who knows? They have made a glorious beginning, haven’t they, Albert?”
Of course this was conceded by so fast a friend of the absent Nine as Al Heaton certainly was, and it was also clear to even an impartial observer that the Nine had made something of a name for themselves, at the very outset of their career, by defeating the Black Hawks, a Nine of established reputation, victors in many fields.
“What would you think if our nine were to play the Calumets, papa?” asked Alice that night, as they lingered over the tea-table.
“Think?” said the Judge. “I should think that it was a great piece of assurance.”
“So should I!” replied Alice; “but I wish they could do it.”
VIII
A Turn of the Tide
Defeat, utter and overwhelming, followed the Catalpas to Bluford, where they played the “Zoo-Zoo Nine” of that city. The “Zoo-Zoos” were picked players, the
