# The Purple Pennant/Chapter 23

CLEARFIELD turned out well on Saturday for the first Springdale game, while the visitors swelled the proceeds by filling most of one whole section behind third base. The day was fair but rather too cool for the players, with a chilly east wind blowing down the field, a wind that puffed up the dust from the base-paths, whisked bits of paper around and interfered to some extent with the judging of flies in the out-field. Springdale was in holiday mood, armed with a multitude of blue banners and accompanied by a thick sprinkling of blue-gowned young ladies whose enthusiasm was even more intense than that of their escorts. Clearfield's cheerers had to work hard to equal the slogans that came down from that third-base stand, and Toby Sears, cheer-leader, was forced to many appeals before he got the results he wanted.
Clearfield's line-up was the same she had pre​sented in Wednesday's game against Benton: Bryan, 2b.; Farrar, cf.; Merrick, 1b.; Scott, 3b.; Cotner, lf.; Jones, ss.; White, c.; Browne, rf.; Nostrand, p. Haley was expected to go to the rescue if needed, and seven substitutes adorned the bench and hoped to get into the game. Springdale started with her left-hander, Newton, on the mound, and Newton, who was a big, lazy-looking but quite competent youth, disposed of Bryan, Farrar and Merrick without difficulty. Neither team hit safely, in fact, until the last of the third, when Lanny managed to land a short fly just beyond third-baseman's reach. But Lanny, although he reached second on a sacrifice bunt by Browne, didn't see the plate, for Newton registered his third strike-out against Nostrand and caused Bryan to hit into second-baseman's hands.
In the fourth inning Springdale had a batting streak that lasted until she had men on third and second with but one out. Then Tom Nostrand passed the next batsman, who had a reputation for long hits to the outfield, and, with the bases filled and the blue flags waving hopefully, he struck out the next two opponents. The cheer that went up from the Clearfield stand when the last man turned away from the plate was undoubtedly plainly heard on the other side of town!
​Clearfield's inning produced plenty of thrills. Farrar went out, shortstop to first, but Gordon drove a clean safety over second and went to third when Scott doubled to right. Cotner did his best to sacrifice to the outfield, but the result was a foul back of first and a second put-out. The Springdale catcher made two bluff throws to second, hoping to coax Gordon to the plate, but the trick didn't work. With two balls and one strike against him, Captain Jones refused the next delivery and had the satisfaction of hearing it declared a ball. Then Newton floated a slow one over for a second strike and, with the Clearfield coachers howling like wild-men and the Purple's supporters shouting from the stands, tried to cut the outer corner of the plate. Warner spoiled it and the ball glanced into the seats. On third Gordon danced and ran back and forth, while Scott, halfway between third and second, dared a throw. Again Newton wound up and again he stepped forward, and the ball sailed straight along the groove. Gordon dashed up the path from third, bat and ball met and Captain Jones sped to first. Scott rounded the last corner and headed for the plate just as the ball bounded into the hands of the second-baseman. The latter had plenty of time to peg across to first ahead of Warner Jones, but something, perhaps the ​sight of the two runners flying home, made him hesitate for one fatal instant. When the ball did reach the first baseman's impatient glove Jones was crossing the bag.
Scott slid unchallenged past the plate and tallied the home team's second run, and Clearfield exulted strenuously and waved purple flags. Two runs looked very large just then, but Dick wanted more and sent Lanny after them. Jones had instructions to steal on the second pitch and Lanny to hit it out if he could. Newton drove Lanny back from the plate with his first delivery and it went for a ball. Then, after throwing twice to first to teach Jones discretion, he sailed a low one over. Lanny swung at it but missed and Jones beat out the throw to second by an eyelash. Clearfield howled its glee. That steal upset Newton and he allowed a pass. With men on second and first and Joe Browne up another tally seemed quite within the bounds of reason, but Newton found himself again and, working Browne into the hole with two strikes and one ball, fooled him on an outshoot that looked very wide of the plate. Clearfield shrieked disapproval of the decision, but disapproval didn't put the runners back on the bases or return Browne to the plate. Still, two runs were two runs, and, unless Springdale did a lot better ​than she had been doing, would prove sufficient to win the game.
The fourth and fifth passed uneventfully. Springdale worked hard and took advantage of everything, but luck was against her when Cotner ran back to the shadow of the fence in deep left and pulled down a long fly that might easily have been good for two bases. Springdale had a runner on first at the time and Cotner's spectacular catch undoubtedly robbed her of a tally. After that Scott threw out the next batsman and Bryan tossed to Jones on the following play. In her half Clearfield got one man to first on balls, but watched the succeeding three retire on easy outs.
It was in the sixth that Springdale began to look dangerous. Dick had substituted Breen for Joe Browne, in the hope that the former would take more kindly to Newton's delivery, and it was Breen who was directly responsible for what happened. Nostrand disposed of the first batsman easily enough, but the next man waited him out and finally, after popping fouls all over the place, secured a pass. The next man laid down a slow bunt toward the box and Nostrand fielded to Jones. The latter, however, failed to complete the double. The following batter hit safely past Scott and sec​ond and first bases were occupied. Springdale's catcher was up now and he had so far proved an easy victim to Nostrand's slow ball. But this time the signs failed. With two strikes against him he managed to connect with a waister and sent it arching into short right field. Gordon started back, but it was quite evidently Breen's ball, and Breen was trotting in for it. But something happened. Perhaps the wind caught the sphere and caused the fielder's undoing. At all events, the ball went over Breen's head by several feet and two runs crossed the plate!
In the ensuing dismay and confusion the batsman slid safely to second. Springdale stood up and yelled like mad, and, after a minute of dismayed silence, Toby Sears managed to arouse the purple-decked seats to response. But the Clearfield cheering was lacking in conviction just then! Breen, feeling horribly conspicuous out there in right field, ground his fist into the palm of his glove and gritted his teeth. Captain Jones' voice came back to him cheerfully:
"Never mind that, Howard! Let's go after 'em hard now!"
And go after them hard they did, and when Newton, the subsequent batsman, slammed the ball into short center Breen was there as soon as Far​rar and could have fielded the ball had not Farrar attended to it. As it was the batsman was satisfied with one base, although the runner ahead reached third in safety.
Tom Haley had begun to warm up back of first base now. That his services would be required was soon evident, for Nostrand put himself in a hole with the next batsman and finally watched him walk to first and fill the bases. Then Dick nodded, Nostrand dropped the ball and walked out and Clearfield cheered lustily as Tom Haley peeled off his sweater. Going into the box with the bases full, even when there are two out, isn't a thing to rejoice and be merry over, but, as Fudge confided to Perry just then, Tom Haley had been put together without nerves. Tom sped some fast and rather wild ones in the general direction of Lanny while the Springdale shortstop leaned on his bat and watched satirically, and the Blue's supporters expressed derision. But none of the Clearfield fellows were worried by Tom's apparent wildness. Tom always did that when he went as a relief pitcher. And then he usually tied the batsman in knots!
Tom did that very thing now. He landed the first ball squarely across the center of the plate. He put the next one shoulder-high across the in​ner corner, and he wasted two more in trying to coax the batter to reach out. Then, finding that the blue-stockinged one would not oblige him, he curved his fingers cunningly about the ball and shot it away and, without waiting, swung on his heel and walked out of the box and across the diamond, while Clearfield applauded hysterically and a disgruntled Springdale shortstop tossed his bat down and turned toward the field wondering if he had really hit as much too soon as it had seemed to him!
The Purple went out in order in their half and the seventh inning, which Clearfield, according to time-honored custom, hailed as the "lucky seventh" and stood up for, passed into history without adding further tallies to the score of either team. Springdale went after the game savagely and succeeded in connecting with Haley's offers so frequently that the Clearfield supporters sat on the edges of their seats and writhed anxiously. But, although the Blue's batsmen hit the ball, they failed to "put it where they ain't," and sharp, clean fielding did the rest. For her part, the Purple did no better. One long fly to deep left looked good for a moment, but the nimble-footed player out there got under it without any trouble. No one reached first in either half of the "lucky seventh" and the ​game went into the eighth with the score still 2 to 2.
When the first man had been thrown out, Haley to Merrick, Haley let down a mite and the Springdale right-fielder smashed out a two-bagger that sailed high over Bryan's head and rolled far into the outfield. After that Haley tightened up again and struck out the next candidate, and the half was over a few minutes later when the runner was caught flat-footed off second by a rattling throw-down by Lanny which Bryan took on the run.
Merrick was first up in the last half of the inning and, obeying instructions, hit desperately at the first ball pitched, missed it to the glee of the Springdale "rooters" and staggered back out of the box. The next delivery was low and wide. The next one, too, was a ball. Then came a slow drop, and Gordon, sizing it up nicely, stepped forward and laid his bat gently against it. It wasn't an ideal ball to bunt, but Gordon managed to get his bat a bit over it and at the same moment start for first. The ball trickled but a scant six feet to the left of base, but the catcher overran it slightly and threw low to first and Gordon was safe.
Scott tried hard to sacrifice with a bunt, but Newton kept them almost shoulder-high and before he knew it Scott was in the hole. With the score ​two and one Newton could afford to waste one, and after he had tried the patience of the crowd by repeated efforts to catch Gordon napping at first, he sent in a slow ball that Scott refused. Then, since the batsman had two strikes on him and would naturally not risk an attempt to bunt, Newton tried to end the agony by sending a straight ball waist-high over the outer corner of the plate. Whereupon Scott did exactly what he'd been told to do and laid the ball down very neatly halfway between plate and box and streaked to first. He almost made it, too, but a quick turn and throw by Newton beat him by a foot. Gordon, however, was safely on second, and Clearfield rejoiced loudly.
Cotner continued the bunting game, but although he advanced Gordon to third his bunt went straight to the waiting third-baseman, who had been playing well in, and he made the second out. Warner Jones got a fine round of applause as he stepped to the bat and there were cries of "Give us a home-run, Cap!" "Knock the cover off it!" "Here's where we score!" At third-base Gordon ran back and forth along the path and the coach shouted vociferously, but Newton refused to get rattled. Instead, to the deep disgust of the Clearfield adherents, he pitched four wide balls and ​Warner, tossing aside his bat, walked resentfully to first. Clearfield loudly censured the pitcher, impolitely intimating that he was afraid, but Newton only smiled and gave his attention to Lanny. Four more pitch-outs and Lanny, too, walked, filling the bases and eliciting derisive and disappointed howls from the Purple.
Breen was next at bat and, since in spite of being a left-hander, he had so far failed to solve the Springdale pitcher, the audience expected that Dick would pull him out and substitute a pinch-hitter—probably McCoy or Lewis. But, after a momentary stir at the bench and a quick consultation between Dick and Haley, Breen advanced to the plate, bat in hand. Knowing ones in the stands shook their heads and grumbled, and Fudge emphatically condemned proceedings and became very pessimistic. Perry, daring to hint that perhaps, after all, Dick Lovering had some good reason for allowing Breen to bat, was silenced by exactly four perfectly good arguments against such a possibility. By which time Howard Breen had a ball and a strike on him, the coachers were jumping and shrieking and the purple flags were waving madly while several hundred voices roared out a bedlam of sound. For it was now or never, in the belief of most, and a safe hit was needed very, very badly!
​Breen faced Fortune calmly. Perhaps that misjudgment in right-field—it couldn't be scored as an error, but that didn't take any of the sting out of it for Howard—had put him on his mettle and endowed him with a desperate determination to make atonement. And possibly Dick Lovering was counting on that very thing. At all events Breen came through! With one strike and two balls against him, Breen picked out a wide curve and got it on the middle of his bat. It was a lucky hit, but it did the business. It started over Newton's head, went up and up, curved toward the foul-line and finally landed just out of reach of first- and second-basemen a foot inside the white mark!
And when second-baseman scooped it up Breen was racing across the bag, Gordon had tallied and Warner Jones was just sliding into the plate.
For the succeeding three minutes pandemonium reigned. Purple banners whipped the air, new straw hats were subjected to outrageous treatment and caps sailed gloriously into space. At first-base Bryan was hugging Breen ecstatically and midway between the plate and the pitcher's box a half-dozen Springdale players were holding a rueful conference. When comparative quiet had returned, and after Fudge had saved his face by carefully explaining that Breen's hit had been the ​luckiest fluke that he, Fudge, had ever witnessed in a long and eventful life, the game went on.
Newton for the first time showed nerves. Haley, who was only an average batter at the best, was sent to first after five deliveries. The Clearfield cheering, momentarily stilled, broke forth with renewed vehemence. It was Bryan's turn at bat. Bryan stood disdainfully inert while two bad ones passed him, and then Springdale's relief pitcher, who had been warming up off and on for the last four innings, took the helm and Newton, who had pitched a remarkable game up to the eighth inning, retired to the bench.
The new twirler, Crowell, was a right-hander and was regarded as slightly better than Newton. He took his time about starting to work, but when he finally began he finished the performance neatly enough, causing Bryan to swing at two very poor offerings and then sneaking a fast one over for the third strike.
Springdale ought to have realized then and there that she was beaten. Everyone else did, and there ensued the beginning of an exodus from the stands. But those who were on their way out three minutes after the ninth inning began either scuttled back to their seats or sought places along the side of the field.
​The new pitcher had done the unexpected. Far out in the field Farrar and Cotner were chasing back after the rolling ball. Crowell had landed squarely on Haley's first pitch and driven it whizzing past the surprised Captain Jones for three bases! Tom Haley looked about as astounded as he ever allowed himself to look as he walked to the box after backing up Lanny. With none out and a runner on third, victory looked less certain for the Purple. Springdale's "rooters" yelled wildly and triumphantly and Springdale's coachers leaped about like insane acrobats and volleyed all sorts of advice to the lone runner, most of it intended for the pitcher's ears.
"It's a cinch, Johnny! You can walk home in a minute! He's up in the air like a kite! There's nothing to it, old man, there's nothing to it! Here's where we roll 'em up! Watch us score! Hi! Hi! Look at that for a rotten pitch! His arm's broken in two places! Just tap it, Hughie, just tap it! He's all gone now, old man! He hasn't a thing but his glove! Come on now! Let's have it! Right down the alley, Hughie! Pick your place and let her go!"
But Hughie struck out, in spite of all the advice and encouragement supplied him, also the next man up, and Clearfield began to breathe a bit easier. ​ "Lanny, dropping to his knees on the plate, got it a foot from the ground" ​But the trouble was by no means over, for an inshoot landed against the ribs of the next batsman and he ambled to first, solicitously rubbing his side and grinning at Tom Haley.
"Sorry," called Tom.
"I'll bet you are!" was the response.
Springdale's center-fielder, second man on her batting list, waited until the runner on first had taken second unchallenged and then lifted a fly to Breen. The latter got it without altering his position and pegged to the plate, but Crowell beat out the throw by a yard and the score was 4 to 3. On the throw-in the batsman went to second and with two out and two on bases the infield spread out again. There was some delay while Springdale selected a pinch-hitter, and then, when he had rubbed his hands in the dirt, rubbed the dirt off on his trousers, gripped his bat and fixed his feet firmly to earth, all with the grim, determined air of an eleventh-hour hero, Lanny stepped to one side of the plate and Tom Haley tossed him four wide ones!
It was the Blue's turn to howl derisively and the Blue did it. And the Purple shouted derisively back. So much, you see, depends on the point of view! The bases were filled now and a hit would not only tie the score but add a second tally to ​Springdale's column. But neither Lanny nor Haley appeared worried, not even when the next batsman appeared in the person of the Blue's captain and third-baseman. Still, Tom worked a bit more deliberately than usual, studied Lanny's signals thoughtfully, seemed bent on consuming as much time as possible. The Blue's captain swayed his bat back and forth and strove to restrain his impatience, but that he was impatient was proved when Tom's first delivery, a ball that Lanny picked almost out of the dirt, fooled him into offering at it. Clearfield shouted joyfully as the bat swept harmlessly above the ball and the men on bases scuttled back. The batsman grew cautious then and let the next two deliveries pass unheeded, guessing them correctly. The noise which had been for some minutes loud and unceasing dwindled to silence as Tom nodded a reply to Lanny's signal, wound up and lurched forward. The Springdale captain expected a good one and recognized it when he saw it. Bat and ball met sharply and he raced down the first base path.
Cries filled the air, the bases emptied. The ball, smashed directly at Tom Haley, bounded out of his glove and rolled back toward the third base line. Tom, momentarily confused, sprang after it, scooped it up from almost under the feet of the ​speeding runner from third and, without a moment's indecision, hurled it to Lanny. And Lanny, dropping to his knees on the plate, got it a foot from the ground just as the spiked shoes of the runner shot into him. Catcher and runner, blue stockings and purple, became confusedly mixed up for a moment, and then Clearfield, seeing the umpire's arm swing backward over his shoulder, burst into triumph and flowed onto the field!