Early and late he had them out.This manager, in keeping with all other famous managers, believed that batting was the thing which won games.He developed a hard-hitting team.He kept everlastingly at them to hit and run, hit and run.
On the Saturday before the Fourth, Madden's Hill had a game to play that did not worry Daddy and he left his team in charge of the captain.
``Fellers, I'm goin' down to the Round House to see Natchez play.I'll size up their game,''
said Daddy.
When he returned he was glad to find that his team had won its ninth straight victory, but he was not communicative in regard to the playing of the Natchez club.He appeared more than usually thoughtful.
The Fourth fell on Tuesday.Daddy had the boys out Monday and he let them take only a short, sharp practice.Then he sent them home.
In his own mind, Daddy did not have much hope of beating Natchez.He had been greatly impressed by their playing, and one inning toward the close of the Round House game they had astonished him with the way they suddenly seemed to break loose and deluge their opponents in a flood of hits and runs.He could not understand this streak of theirs--for they did the same thing every time they played--and he was too good a baseball student to call it luck.
He had never wanted anything in his life, not even to have two good legs, as much as he wanted to beat Natchez.For the Madden's Hill boys had come to believe him infallible.He was their idol.
They imagined they had only to hit and run, to fight and never give up, and Daddy would make them win.There was not a boy on the team who believed that Natchez had a chance.They had grown proud and tenacious of their dearly won reputation.First of all, Daddy thought of his team and their loyalty to him; then he thought of the glory lately come to Madden's Hill, and lastly of what it meant to him to have risen from a lonely watcher of the game--a cripple who could not even carry a bat--to manager of the famous Hill team.
It might go hard with the boys to lose this game, but it would break his heart.
From time out of mind there had always been rivalry between Madden's Hill and Natchez.And there is no rivalry so bitter as that between boys.
So Daddy, as he lay awake at night planning the system of play he wanted to use, left out of all account any possibility of a peaceful game.It was comforting to think that if it came to a fight Sam and Lane could hold their own with Bo Stranathan and Slugger Blandy.
In the managing of his players Daddy observed strict discipline.It was no unusual thing for him to fine them.On practice days and off the field they implicitly obeyed him.During actual play, however, they had evinced a tendency to jump over the traces.It had been his order for them not to report at the field Tuesday until 2 o'clock.
He found it extremely difficult to curb his own inclination to start before the set time.And only the stern duty of a man to be an example to his players kept Daddy at home.
He lived near the ball grounds, yet on this day, as he hobbled along on his crutch, he thought the distance interminably long, and for the first time in weeks the old sickening resentment at his useless leg knocked at his heart.Manfully Daddy refused admittance to that old gloomy visitor.
He found comfort and forgetfulness in the thought that no strong and swift-legged boy of his acquaintance could do what he could do.
Upon arriving at the field Daddy was amazed to see such a large crowd.It appeared that all the boys and girls in the whole town were in attendance, and, besides, there was a sprinkling of grown-up people interspersed here and there around the diamond.Applause greeted Daddy's appearance and members of his team escorted him to the soap-box bench.
Daddy cast a sharp eye over the Natchez players practicing on the field.Bo Stranathan had out his strongest team.They were not a prepossessing nine.They wore soiled uniforms that did not match in cut or color.But they pranced and swaggered and strutted! They were boastful and boisterous.It was a trial for any Madden's Hill boy just to watch them.
``Wot a swelled bunch!'' exclaimed Tom Lindsay.
``Fellers, if Slugger Blandy tries to pull any stunt on me today he'll get a swelleder nut,''
growled Lane Griffith.
``T-t-t-t-t-te-te-tell him t-t-t-to keep out of m-m-m-my way an' not b-b-b-b-bl-block me,''
stuttered Tay-Tay Mohler.
``We're a-goin' to skin 'em,'' said Eddie Curtis.
``Cheese it, you kids, till we git in the game,''
ordered Daddy.``Now, Madden's Hill, hang round an' listen.I had to sign articles with Natchez--had to let them have their umpire.So we're up against it.But we'll hit this pitcher Muckle Harris.He ain't got any steam.An' he ain't got much nerve.Now every feller who goes up to bat wants to talk to Muck.Call him a big swelled stiff.Tell him he can't break a pane of glass--tell him he can't put one over the pan--tell him it he does you'll slam it down in the sand bank.Bluff the whole team.Keep scrappy all the time.See! That's my game today.This Natchez bunch needs to be gone after.Holler at the umpire.Act like you want to fight.''
Then Daddy sent his men out for practice.
``Boss, enny ground rules?'' inquired Bo Stranathan.He was a big, bushy-haired boy with a grin and protruding teeth.``How many bases on wild throws over first base an' hits over the sand bank?''
``All you can get,'' replied Daddy, with a magnanimous wave of hand.
``Huh! Lemmee see your ball?''
Daddy produced the ball that he had Lane had made for the game.
``Huh! Watcher think? We ain 't goin' to play with no mush ball like thet,'' protested Bo.``We play with a hard ball.Looka here! We'll trow up the ball.''
Daddy remembered what he had heard about the singular generosity of the Natchez team to supply the balls for the games they played.
``We don't hev to pay nothin' fer them balls.
A man down at the Round House makes them for us.They ain't no balls as good,'' explained Bo, with pride.
