Of course he does, agreed Lanny. Dick, you oughtnt to poke fun at Fudges great thoughts. Fudge is a budding genius, Fudge is, and if youre not careful youll discourage him. Remember his story about the fellow who won the mile race in two minutes and forty-one seconds, Dick? That was a peach of a
I didnt! declared Fudge passionately. The p-p-printer made a mistake! Ive told you that a th-th-th-thousand t-t-times! I wrote it
Dont spoil it, begged Dick. It was a much better story the way The Purple printed it. Any fellow might run the mile in four-something, but to do it under three shows real ability, Fudge. Besides, whats a minute or two in a story?
Aw, cu-cu-cut it out! grumbled Fudge. You f-f-fellows m-m-m-m
Youll never do it, Fudge, said Gordon sympathetically. Ive noticed that if you dont make it the first two or three times you
M-make me tired! concluded Fudge breathlessly but triumphantly.
Snappy work! approved Lanny. If at first you dont succeed
T-t-try, try again, assisted Gordon. Fudge muttered something both unintelligible and uncomplimentary, and Gordon turned to Dick: How did you get on with Mrs. Thingamabob at the Point, Dick? he asked. Whats the kid like?
All right. The name is Townsend. Theyre at the hotel. The boy is thirteen and hes hes a bit spoiled, I guess. Theres an older brother, too, a fellow about seventeen. He confided to me that Id have a beast of a time with the youngster. His name the brothers is Loring Townsend. Anybody know him?
There was no response, and Dick continued:
He seemed rather a nice chap, big brother did. As for the kid his name is Harold, by the way
Fancy names, what? said Gordon. Loring and Harold.
No fancier than your own, commented Fudge, still a trifle disgruntled. Gordon! Gee, thats a sweet name for a grown-up fellow!
Not as sweet as Fudge, though, answered Gordon.
Thats not my n-n-name!
There, youre getting him excited again, said Lanny soothingly. Move out of the moonlight, Fudge. Its affecting your disposition. What about the kid, Dick? Is he the one youre going to tutor?
Yes; hes entered for Rifle Point in the Autumn, and hes way behind on two or three things. The worst of it is that he doesnt seem very enthusiastic about catching up. I guess Ill have my work cut out for me. The big brother told me that I was to take no nonsense from young Harold, and that hed back me up, but I dont know. I guess Mrs. Townsend wouldnt approve of harsh measures. Shes trying her best to spoil the kid, Id say. Im to go over five mornings a week, beginning Monday.
Im glad I dont have to do it, commented Gordon. Ill bet the kid is a young terror, Dick.
Dick smiled. He is something of the sort. But I guess he and I will get on all right after a while. And if hes got it in him to learn, he will learn, Dick added grimly. That is, unless his mother
Shes bound to, said Lanny. They all do. Inside of a week shell be telling you that youre working her darling too hard.
How do you know so much about it? challenged Fudge. Anyone would think you were a hundred years old!
Lanny laughed. Ive kept my eyes open, Fudge, sweet child. Mothers are pretty fine institutions; no fellow should be without one; but they are most of them much too easy on us. And you know that as well as I do.
Mine isnt, murmured Fudge regretfully. Shes worse than my father at making me do things!
Oh, well, youre an exceptional case, said Gordon gently. When a fellow shows criminal tendencies like yours, Fudge
Yes, writing stories at your age! You ought to be ashamed! Lanny spoke with deep severity. Fudge only chuckled.
Some day, he announced gleefully, Im going to write a story and put you fellows all into it. Then youll wish you hadnt been so fresh. The only thing is and his voice fell disconsolately I dont suppose, if I told what I know about you, I could get it published!
Deal gently with us, Fudge, begged Dick humbly. Remember, we used to be friends. I must be getting along, fellows. Coming over to-morrow, Gordie?
Yes, Ill drop around in the morning. Weve got to get busy and send out some challenges. Who can we get to play with us, Lanny, besides Lesterville and, maybe, Plymouth?
I dont know. I think there are plenty of teams, though, if we can find them.
They have a team at Logan, said Fudge, but I guess theyre older than we are.
What do we care? asked Gordon. Logans a good way off, though, and I suppose it would cost like the dickens to get there.
Make them come over here, suggested Lanny.
Yes, but then theyd want their expenses guaranteed.
Look here, observed Dick, why couldnt we charge admission to some of the games after we got started? I dare say quite a lot of folks would pay a quarter to see a good game.
They might, conceded Lanny. We could try it, anyway. If we could get, say, a hundred admissions, wed have twenty-five dollars, and then we could pay the expenses of any team around here. Thats a bully idea, Dick. As a manager youre all to the good.
I thank you, replied Dick, setting his crutches under his arms. Well talk it over to-morrow. You come over, too, Lanny; and Fudge if he is not in the throes of literary composition.
Ill walk around with you, said Lanny. Its too bully a night to go to bed, anyway. Good-night, fellows.
Good-night, responded Gordon and Fudge. Good-night, Dick.
They watched the two as long as they were in sight in the white radiance of the moon, and then:
Theyre two of the finest fellows in the world, said Fudge warmly. And wouldnt Dick be a wonder if he was like the rest of us, Gordie?
Y yes, replied Gordon thoughtfully, only sometimes I think that maybe if Dick was like the rest of us, Fudge, he might not be the splendid chap he is.
Fudge objected to that, but afterward, returning home by way of the back fence, he thought it over. I suppose, he told himself, as he paused on his porch for a final look at the moon, what Gordie means is that tribulations ennoble our characters. That struck him as a fine phrase, and he made a mental note of it. Still later, as he lay in bed with the moonlight illumining his room, he began to plan a perfectly corking story around the phrase, with Dick as the hero. Unfortunately, perhaps, for American literature, sleep claimed him before he had completed it.
CHAPTER V
DICK VISITS THE POINT
On Wednesday the Clearfield Baseball Club reported for practice. There was a full attendance, with the exception of Tom Haley. Gordon confined the hours work to fielding, however, and Toms absence was not felt. Fudge had purchased a brand-new High School uniform and Pete Robey had been lucky enough to borrow one from a boy who had played on the team several years before. As the shirts and caps held only the letter C, there was nothing misrepresentative about the gray uniforms. Of course, the fact that the C was purple and that the stockings were of the same royal hue might lead one to mistake the team for the High School nine; but Gordon had consulted the principal, Mr. Grayson, in the matter, and Mr. Grayson had given it as his opinion that, so long as they did not pretend to be the High School team, there could be no harm in wearing their school uniforms.
Most of the fellows had not played since the final game with Springdale, nearly a month before, and were consequently rather out of practice. Muscles were stiff, and that first days work only produced soreness. But by Saturday the fellows were pegging the ball around with their old-time ginger and running and sliding with their accustomed agility. Tom pitched to the batters on Friday, and the result proved that batting practice was far from being a waste of time. Even Gordon, who had headed the batting list that Spring, found that his eye was bad and that he could connect with Toms easy offerings scarcely better than the tail-enders.
Fudge plunged into the business with heart and soul, determined to make himself not only a useful member of the outfield but a regular Ty Cobb or Home-Run Baker at the bat. I regret to have to state that for some time Fudges fielding was not at all spectacular and that he never or at least never that summer threatened to dispute Mr. Cobbs supremacy with the stick. But they didnt expect great things from Fudge; and as time went on he developed a very clever judgment in the matter of fly balls and even became able to throw with some accuracy to the infield.
Meanwhile, Dick had entered into correspondence with some half dozen baseball teams in not too distant towns, and already a game had been scheduled with Lesterville, who, to Dicks surprise and satisfaction, offered to pay Clearfields expenses if it would visit Lesterville. Manager Lovering promptly agreed and the date of the contest was fixed for the second Saturday following the Rutters Point game. On Friday morning Dick and Caspar Billings again met and completed arrangements. Caspar, a boy of Dicks own age, took a great liking to the Clearfield manager, and insisted on his staying to luncheon with him on that occasion, and it was on the Billings veranda, within a stones throw of the waves, that the two talked it all over.
Caspar was a fine-looking youth, rather large but well conditioned, with dark hair and eyes, a ready smile, and a jovial laugh. He lived in New York, but had been spending his summers at the Point for several years. Dick met Caspars mother and two older sisters at luncheon, but Mr. Billings was not present, and Dick gathered that he remained in New York save for an occasional week-end. When Caspar explained that Dick was tutoring Harold Townsend, Mrs. Billings shook her head pessimistically.
Im afraid, she said, youll find him rather difficult. He isnt exactly what Id call a nice-dispositioned boy.
Come, mother, dont discourage Lovering at the start, laughed Caspar. We all know that the kids horribly spoiled, but then Lovering isnt going to be a governess to him!
I dont want to discourage him, dear, but I thought it only right he should know that well, if he isnt very successful, it wont be altogether his fault. Mrs. Townsend is a dear woman, but I cant admire the way she has brought up that boy.
His brother has already warned me, replied Dick, with a smile. Im prepared for the worst. So far, Harold has behaved very well. He doesnt like to study much, but he hasnt well, lain down in the shafts yet.
He will, though, laughed Caspar. And if you dont keep a tight rein he will bust the shafts! That brother of his is a nice chap, though. By the way, hes going to play first base for us, Lovering.
Who is your pitcher? asked Dick.
I we arent quite sure. We expect it will be Mason, but he hasnt come yet. If he doesnt show up well have to find some one else. You know Morris Brent, dont you? Hes on the team, too. Then theres Pink Northrop and Jim House and Gilbert Chase and Charlie Leary and lets see; oh, yes, Billy Houghton. And Mason, if he gets here in time. How manys that? Never mind. I dare say Ive forgotten one or two. I guess well average a year or so older than you chaps, but you have been playing together, and I guess that will equalize things. That field over behind the hotel isnt the best in the world, but its not bad in the infield.
What position do you play? asked Dick, when they were back on the veranda.
Third usually. Im not particular. Im not much of a player, but I get a lot of fun out of it. Ive tried two years running for the team at school and havent made it yet.
What school do you go to?
St. Georges. We turn out some pretty fair ball teams there. Im going to try again next Spring. Its my last year, and if I dont make it then Im a goner.
I suppose youre going to college, though?
No; my father doesnt want me to. Says he needs me with him in the office. I dont mind very much. Of course, Id like to go; most every fellow I know at school is going. Maybe father will change his mind before Spring. What about you, Lovering?
College? Dick shook his head. Id like it mighty well, too, but it costs too much. Funny how fellows who can go dont care about it. Theres Morris Brent. His fathers crazy to have him go to college. He tells Morris he can have his pick of them all. Morris doesnt want to go a bit; and he wont, I guess, if he doesnt brace up.
Exams, you mean?
Dick nodded. Morris is always in trouble with his studies.
His fathers a bit of a Tartar, isnt he? asked Caspar. Ive only met him once or twice, but he seemed sort of cross-grained.
I dont know. I know he and Morris are always at outs about one thing or another. Just now, I hear, its an automobile. Morris wants one, and his father says he cant have it. Do you know him very well?
Not very. Weve seen each other quite a little for several summers, but we arent awfully chummy. I dont quite Caspar paused, with a puzzled frown. If hed forget that his father has a lot of money, hed get on better with fellows here. I like his sister, though. Shes an awfully nice, jolly kid. And his mothers mighty nice, too.
Yes, so Ive heard. I dont know them. Well, I must get along. We will be over here in time to begin the game at three on Saturday, Billings. Ill talk to Gordon about the umpire, but Im pretty sure the chap you speak of will be satisfactory to us. Thanks for being so kind. Will you say good-bye to your mother and sisters, please?
Thats all right, replied Caspar warmly. Hope youll come around often, Lovering. See you Wednesday, anyway. He watched Dicks deft manipulation of his crutches anxiously. Finally: I say, its a long walk to the trolley. Let me take you over, wont you? We have a sort of a horse and cart here, and it wont take a minute to hitch up.
No, thanks; I like to walk, replied Dick, with a smile. Maybe you wouldnt call it walking, though; perhaps I ought to say that I like to crutch.
Call it what you like, responded Caspar heartily, you certainly do it mighty well, Lovering!
Dick reached the trolley station in ample time for the two-forty-five car back to Clearfield, and on the way his thoughts dwelt largely on Master Harold Townsend. Master Harold was a good deal of a problem. So far, as Dick had told Mrs. Billings, the boy had behaved very decently, but Dick knew quite well that it was principally because he was still in some awe of his tutor. That awe would soon wear off, for there wasnt enough difference in the ages of the two to allow Dick to keep the upper hand very long. Then, as Dick realized, thered be trouble. Unfortunately, he could not, he felt, count on the boys mother to back him up, for that lady was lamentably weak where her youngest son was concerned. Of course, Dick might keep on drawing his wages all summer and nothing would be said, but he didnt intend to do that unless he was earning them. And it wasnt going to be an easy matter to earn them as soon as Harold got over his present diffidence and the slight enthusiasm with which Dick had managed to imbue him. The money meant a good deal to Dick, and he hated to think of losing it, but one thing was certain: As soon as he failed to make progress with Harold he would quit. Perhaps he would find another pupil, he reflected more hopefully, although so far only Mrs. Townsend had replied to his application.