The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1885-10-09
HOW SCIENCE WON THE GAME.
I. THE CONFERENCE.

the Stafford and the Danville clubs was
called for the next Saturday; and '~'unless,"
as Jack said, something turned up, his
club would be sure to lose ''the rubber"
Each nine had won a game; and so they
would meet for the final struggle on an
apparently even footing. But really the
chances greatly favored the Danyille club,
which had recently taken in some older
players, who greatly strengthened their
nine. They were all lusty young fellows.
Not one was under eighteen years of age,
and several were out of their teens. But
Sanborn, the Stafford's first baseman and
captain, was barely eighteen, and the ages
of his men ranged from fifteen to seven
teen.
Jack Hunt was a well-built lad of six
teen, which was also the age of Winfield
Scott Hancock Bliss, the Stafford catcher.
And | must say a word also, at the out
set, about Win. He was a Boston boy,
spending his summer on the farm belong
ing to Jacks father, who happened to be
his uncle. He was of a rather short and
thick-set figure, with big black eyes that
glowed like Goals of fire when he was
excited. Win had made good use Of the
gymnasium at school in the city and was
really quite an athlete. He could jump
two feet farther and nearly three feet higher
than any of his Stafford friends. Any
other member of the nine could throw
him in a wrestle, but not one Of them could
knock off his cap.
you nave the strength" he used to
say to them, ''But | tell you science is the
thing that wins!'
After supper, that Monday, Jack and
Win started together for the village, where
a conference of the nine was to be held on
the piazza of the main store. The pitchers
face was still gloomy, for he knew from
sad experience that the Danville fellows
asked no better sport than to bat his pitch
ing. The other players were less down.
cast, but all looked serious. The whole
club was ON hand in answer to the call.
Besides the pitcher and catcher, there was
Captain Sanborn, first baseman; Abe Blan-
chard, second baseman; Will Bailey, third
baseman; Harley Esden, short-stop; Jack
Steele, left-field; Am Kicker, center; and
Sim Clarke, right.
The dignified captain called the meeting
to order.
II nave asked for this meeting, " he said,
be lone about the Danville game We all
know that we've only a small prospect of
winning. We play just as good a game
in the field as the Danville fellows, but we
can't begin to equal them at the bat. |
went to see them play the Barnets IN Sat
urday, and tell you they hit very hard.
Besides, they nave a new pitcher, and he
throws like lightning"
''Then we might just as well give it up
in advance" said Jack, whose small amount
of courage had already slowly oozed away.
'Nosir, we're going to play EN- anyhow,
responded the resolute captain. 'And we
have just one chance of beating them; and
that is to break up their batting"
you'll have to put in a new pitcher,
them returned Jack.
Nonsense. There is no use in talking
about that, y said Captain Sanborn. "You-
re the best pitcher in the nine, Jack,-by
all odds the best. l do wish. though
swell, what ?!' said Jack, as the captain
hesitated.
II wish you could learn to curve 'em,
Don't you suppose you could?'
sT z.- zo..-4 - -, T,a1-f, ~ npt
answer. ''I've tried, and tried, but can
not get the trick of it,"
There was silence for a moment and
then began a long discussion, i'll which his
dropping spirits and to devise some plan of
action that should promise to bring them
success in the great game to be played on
Saturday.
swell, boys" said the captain, finally,
'let every man do the best he can-that's
all. We must keep our courage up. We
We beaten them once and we may beat
again. And if not, We'll make them earn
the victory, at any rate"
So the sober conference was ended and
the boys walked slowly to their homes.
Late in the night Win heard Jack mutter
in his sleep, eff l only could curve emf
H.-THE CURVES.
"Wake up, Jack! Wake up, quick
screamed Win in the ear of the sleepy
pitcher the next morning. Il have an idea
"a great scheme. Come, GOMEZ
"What's the low % grunted Jack, rub
bling his eyes.
'Did you see that tall fellow, in the
checked suit, at the hotel last night p
asked Win.
Jack nodded sleepily.
"Well, sir, lie is the baseball editor of
the Boston Trumpet. I'm sure of it. |
knew I'd seen him before, and it just
flashed upon me where. He is just the man
we want. Hurry, or he'll have gone.'
''What if he has? he can't play for us, >
said Jack.
Il know that. But don't you under
stand > Are you asleep yet? HH show
you how to eurge.'
"W-h-a-tl'' Jack was wide awake now.
''Curyes, curves, don't you see? lie
l,nours oil about .am ssaid Win eagerly