But these hopes were dashed by the next inning, which was the eighth, the Jonesvilles having gained one run, while the Catalpas were ignominiously “whitewashed.” The visitors showed their good qualities in the field by a fine double play in their inning. Hart Stirling being on the first base, Will Sprague hit short to Ellis, who sent the ball to Studley at second base, cutting off Stirling; and John Brubaker, in attempting to steal from first to second base, was run out by Studley and Morrison.
Nobody stirred from the field, although the day was dying slowly and the simple habits of the Catalpa women called them home to their household duties. The decisive inning was near at hand, and as Alice stood up in her father’s carriage, in order to get a better view of the game, the hitherto orderly crowd closed in around the players. Spectators and players drew a long breath as Larry Boyne went to the bat for the Jonesvilles. He wielded the bat with great skill and dexterity; but Charlie King’s pitching was wonderfully clever, and Larry went out on a foul tip to Al Heaton, catcher. Morrison made third base on a safe hit; Ellis made first base and Morrison came home on a ball muffed by Charlie King, and then Martin, on a center field ball hit, brought Ellis and Wheeler home. Simpson now made first base on a hit to the right field, and an overthrow brought Martin home and gave second base to Simpson. Berthelet was caught out on a foul fly by Al Heaton, and Simpson, in attempting to steal home, was run out by Al Heaton and Will Sprague.
“Three out on the last inning!” roared two or three of the Dean County Nine, great hulking fellows, who stood near the carriage of the Judge. Alice looked at them reproachfully, although her cheeks were ruddy with half-suppressed excitement.
“It’s real mean of them, isn’t it, papa?” she said. “They will not seem to consider that we should be very angry if we were treated thus in Jonesville.”
Now went Hiram Porter, big and handsome Hiram, to the bat for the Catalpas. Hiram looked as tall as a giant in the gathering twilight, and he stood up in manly fashion. But Hiram was put out on first base by a ball sent by Studley to Morrison, and George Buckner, who followed him, had great ado to save himself. But he made first base, and Al Heaton next sent a singing ball to center field, on which he went to second base and Buckner to third. Ben Burton then undertook to bat Buckner home, but he was, himself, put out on first base. Lew Morris then took the bat, sent a high ball to center field and secured the first base. Charlie King followed to the first, and amidst despondent cries of “Three out!” the game and the inning ended with a score of 29 for the Jonesville Nine and 23 for the Catalpas.
Deputy Sheriff Wheeler, forgetting for the time his official dignity, stood up in what was once the judges’ stand and shouted, “Three cheers for the champions of Northern Illinois! Now, then! Hip! Hip! Hip!”
The cheers were given with a pretty good will, considering how great was the disappointment of the townspeople. The captain of the Catalpas set a laudable and manly example to his comrades by going straight to Larry Boyne, the captain of the Jonesville Nine, and, grasping him warmly by the hand, congratulating him on the victory so honorably and handsomely won.
“Of course you can’t expect that a fellow can say that he is glad to have lost the day; but you have worked hard for the pennant, and it belongs to you without any grumbling.”
Larry, with his ruddy face still ruddier than before, responded in frank fashion and then the crowd began to melt away, for the darkness was coming on. Passing by the Judge’s carriage, yet entangled in the throng of vehicles, Larry glanced up at the pretty girl whom he had noticed with distant admiration. The Judge intercepted his glance, and leaning over with what was meant to be a gracious smile, said, “This is Larry Boyne, the famous catcher of the downriver nine? Well, I congratulate you, young man, on your well-won victory and on your own beautiful playing.”
Larry very much taken aback by this unexpected condescension from the great man of Catalpa, touched his cap, blushed and stammered and gladly rejoined his comrades.
“Fine young man, that,” said the Judge, sententiously, as his carriage slowly drew out of the crowd and moved toward the gate.
“If a few such players as he were in the place of some of the muffs in the Catalpa Nine,” said Alice, “I think that the championship of the whole State would belong in this town.”
“Why I do believe my little daughter is crying!” cried the Judge.
“I am not crying,” said Alice stoutly. “But I confess that I am mad enough to cry. Are we always going to be beaten by every scrubby nine that comes here, I’d like to know?”
Dr. Selby, the staid and dignified village town apothecary, who was walking by the carriage, heard the indignant outburst, and looking up, said with a smile, “We’ve got the timber here for a first-class nine, Miss Alice, but the thing is to get the timber together.”
Judge Howell, with his grandest manner, said, “If there is any movement to retrieve the honor of Catalpa in the baseball field, please count on my assistance and support.”
III
After the Battle
To say that the
