False Colors
``Fate has decreed more bad luck for Salisburyin Saturday's game with Bellville. It has leakedout that our rivals will come over strengthenedby a `ringer,' no less than Yale's star pitcher,Wayne. We saw him shut Princeton out in June,in the last game of the college year, and we arenot optimistic in our predictions as to what Salisburycan do with him. This appears a rather unfairprocedure for Bellville to resort to. Whycouldn't they come over with their regular team?They have won a game, and so have we; bothgames were close and brilliant; the deciding gamehas roused unusual interest. We are inclined toresent Bellville's methods as unsportsmanlike.All our players can do is to go into this game onSaturday and try the harder to win.''Wayne laid down the Salisbury Gazette, with alittle laugh of amusement, yet feeling a vague,disquieting sense of something akin to regret.``Pretty decent of that chap not to roast me,''he soliloquized.Somewhere he had heard that Salisburymaintained an unsalaried team. It was notoriousamong college athletes that the Bellville Club paidfor the services of distinguished players. Andthis in itself rather inclined Wayne to sympathizewith Salisbury. He knew something of the strugglesof a strictly amateur club to cope with itssemi-professional rivals.As he was sitting there, idly tipped back in acomfortable chair, dreaming over some of thebaseball disasters he had survived before his collegecareer, he saw a young man enter the lobbyof the hotel, speak to the clerk, and then turn andcome directly toward the window where Waynewas sitting.``Are yon Mr. Wayne, the Yale pitcher?''he asked eagerly. He was a fair-haired,clean-cut young fellow, and his voice rang pleasantly.``Guilty,'' replied Wayne.``My name's Huling. I'm captain of the Salisburynine. Just learned you were in town andare going to pitch against us tomorrow. Won'tyou walk out into the grounds with me now?You might want to warm up a little.''``Thank you, yes, I will. Guess I won't needmy suit. I'll just limber up, and give my arm agood rub.''It struck Wayne before they had walked farthat Huling was an amiable and likable chap. Asthe captain of the Salisbury nine, he certainlyhad no reason to be agreeable to the Morristown``ringer,'' even though Wayne did happen to bea famous Yale pitcher.The field was an oval, green as an emerald, levelas a billiard table and had no fences or standsto obstruct the open view of the surroundingwooded country. On each side of the diamondwere rows of wooden benches, and at one end ofthe field stood a little clubhouse.Wayne took off his coat, and tossed a ball fora while to an ambitious youngster, and then wentinto the clubhouse, where Huling introduced himto several of his players. After a good rubdown,Wayne thanked Huling for his courtesy, andstarted out, intending to go back to town.``Why not stay to see us practice?'' asked thecaptain. ``We're not afraid you'll size up ourweaknesses. As a matter of fact, we don't lookforward to any hitting stunts tomorrow, eh,Burns? Burns, here, is our leading hitter, andhe's been unusually noncommittal since he heardwho was going to pitch for Bellville.''``Well, I wouldn't give a whole lot for my prospectsof a home run tomorrow,'' said Burns, witha laugh.Wayne went outside, and found a seat in theshade. A number of urchins had trooped uponthe green field, and carriages and motors werealready in evidence. By the time the players cameout of the dressing room, ready for practice, therewas quite a little crowd in attendance.Despite Wayne's hesitation, Huling insistedupon introducing him to friends, and finally hauledhim up to a big touring car full of girls. Wayne,being a Yale pitcher, had seen several thousandpretty girls, but the group in that automobilefairly dazzled him. And the last one to whomHuling presented him--with the words: ``Dorothy,this is Mr. Wayne, the Yale pitcher, who isto play with Bellville tomorrow; Mr. Wayne, mysister''--was the girl he had known he wouldmeet some day.``Climb up, Mr. Wayne. We can make room,''invited Miss Huling.Wayne thought the awkwardness with which hefound a seat beside her was unbecoming to a Yalesenior. But, considering she was the girl he hadbeen expecting to discover for years, his clumsinessbespoke the importance of the event. Themerry laughter of the girls rang in his ears.Presently, a voice detached itself from the others,and came floating softly to him.``Mr. Wayne, so you're going to wrest ourlaurels from us?'' asked Miss Huling.``I don't know--I'm not infallible--I've beenbeaten.''``When? Not this season?'' she inquiredquickly, betraying a knowledge of his recordthat surprised and pleased him. ``Mr. Wayne,I was at the Polo Grounds on June fifteenth.''Her white hand lightly touched the Princetonpin at her neck. Wayne roused suddenly out ofhis trance. The girl was a Princeton girl! Thegleam of her golden hair, the flash of her blueeyes, became clear in sight.``I'm very pleased to hear it,'' he replied.``It was a great game, Mr. Wayne, and you maywell be proud of your part in winning it. Ishouldn't be surprised if you treated the Salisburyteam to the same coat of whitewash. Wegirls are up in arms. Our boys stood a fair chanceto win this game, but now there's a doubt. Bythe way, are you acquainted in Bellville?''``No. I met Reed, the Bellville captain, in NewYork this week. He had already gotten an extrapitcher--another ringer--for this game, but hesaid he preferred me, if it could be arranged.''While conversing, Wayne made note of the factthat the other girls studiously left him to MissHuling. If the avoidance had not been so marked,he would never have thought of it.``Mr. Wayne, if your word is not involved--willyou change your mind and pitch tomorrow's gamefor us instead of Bellville?''Quite amazed, Wayne turned squarely to lookat Miss Huling. Instead of disarming his quicksuspicion, her cool, sweet voice, and brave, blueeyes confirmed it. The charms of the captain'ssister were to be used to win him away from theBellville nine. He knew the trick; it had beenplayed upon him before.But never had any other such occasion givenhim a feeling of regret. This case was different.She was the girl. And she meant to flirt with him,to use her eyes for all they were worth toencompass the Waterloo of the rival team.No, he had made a mistake, after all--she wasnot the real girl. Suddenly conscious of a littleshock of pain, he dismissed that dream girl fromhis mind, and determined to meet Miss Hulinghalf way in her game. He could not flirt as wellas he could pitch; still, he was no novice.``Well, Miss Huling, my word certainly is notinvolved. But as to pitching for Salisbury--thatdepends.''``Upon what?''``Upon what there is in it.''``Mr. Wayne, you mean--money? Oh, I know.My brother Rex told me how you college men arepaid big sums. Our association will not give adollar, and, besides, my brother knows nothing ofthis. But we girls are heart and soul on winningthis game. We'll----''``Miss Huling, I didn't mean remuneration insordid cash,'' interrupted Wayne, in a tone thatheightened the color in her cheeks.Wayne eyed her keenly with mingled emotions.Was that rose-leaf flush in her cheeks natural?Some girls could blush at will. Were the wistfuleyes, the earnest lips, only shamming? It costhim some bitterness to decide that they were.Her beauty fascinated, while it hardened him.Eternally, the beauty of women meant the undoingof men, whether they played the simple,inconsequential game of baseball, or the great,absorbing, mutable game of life.The shame of the situation for him was increasinglyannoying, inasmuch as this lovely girlshould stoop to flirtation with a stranger, and thesame time draw him, allure him, despite theapparent insincerity.``Miss Huling, I'll pitch your game for twothings,'' he continued.``Name them.''``Wear Yale blue in place of that orange-and-black Princeton pin.''``I will.'' She said it with a shyness, a look inher eyes that made Wayne wince. What a perfectlittle actress! But there seemed just a chancethat this was not deceit. For an instant hewavered, held back by subtle, finer intuition; thenhe beat down the mounting influence of truth inthose dark-blue eyes, and spoke deliberately:``The other thing is--if I win the game--akiss.''Dorothy Huling's face flamed scarlet. But thisdid not affect Wayne so deeply, though it showedhim his mistake, as the darkening shadow ofdisappointment in her eyes. If she had been a flirt,she would have been prepared for rudeness. Hebegan casting about in his mind for some apology,some mitigation of his offense; but as he wasabout to speak, the sudden fading of her color,leaving her pale, and the look in her proud, darkeyes disconcerted him out of utterance.``Certainly, Mr. Wayne. I agree to your priceif you win the game.''But how immeasurable was the distancebetween the shy consent to wear Yale blue, and thepale, surprised agreement to his second proposal!Wayne experienced a strange sensation of personal loss.While he endeavored to find his tongue, MissHuling spoke to one of the boys standing near,and he started off on a run for the field. PresentlyHuling and the other players broke for the car,soon surrounding it in breathless anticipation.``Wayne, is it straight? You'll pitch for ustomorrow?'' demanded the captain, with shiningeyes.``Surely I will. Bellville don't need me.They've got Mackay, of Georgetown,'' repliedWayne.Accustomed as he was to being mobbed byenthusiastic students and admiring friends, Waynecould not but feel extreme embarrassment at thereception accorded him now. He felt that he wassailing under false colors. The boys mauled him,the girls fluttered about him with glad laughter.He had to tear himself away; and when he finallyreached his hotel, he went to his room, with hismind in a tumult.Wayne cursed himself roundly; then he fell intodeep thought. He began to hope he could retrievethe blunder. He would win the game; he wouldexplain to her the truth; he would ask for anopportunity to prove he was worthy of her friendship;he would not mention the kiss. This lastthought called up the soft curve of her red lipsand that it was possible for him to kiss her madethe temptation strong.His sleep that night was not peaceful anddreamless. He awakened late, had breakfast sentto his room, and then took a long walk out intothe country. After lunch he dodged the crowd inthe hotel lobby, and hurried upstairs, where heput on his baseball suit. The first person he metupon going down was Reed, the Bellville man.``What's this I hear, Wayne, about your pitchingfor Salisbury today? I got your telegram.''``Straight goods,'' replied Wayne.``But I thought you intended to pitch for us?''``I didn't promise, did I?''``No. Still, it looks fishy to me.''``You've got Mackay, haven't you?''``Yes. The truth is, I intended to use youboth.''``Well, I'll try to win for Salisbury. Hopethere's no hard feeling.''``Not at all. Only if I didn't have the Georgetowncrack, I'd yell murder. As it is, we'll trimSalisbury anyway.''``Maybe,'' answered Wayne, laughing. ``It'sa hot day, and my arm feels good.''When Wayne reached the ball grounds, hethought he had never seen a more inspiring sight.The bright green oval was surrounded by a glitteringmass of white and blue and black. Outalong the foul lines were carriages, motors, andtally-hos, brilliant with waving fans and flags.Over the field murmured the low hum of manyvoices.``Here you are!'' cried Huling, making a grabfor Wayne. ``Where were you this morning?We couldn't find you. Come! We've got a minutebefore the practice whistle blows, and I promisedto exhibit you.''He hustled Wayne down the first-base line, pastthe cheering crowd, out among the motors, to thesame touring car that he remembered. A bevy ofwhite-gowned girls rose like a covey of ptarmigans,and whirled flags of maroon and gray.Dorothy Huling wore a bow of Yale blue uponher breast, and Wayne saw it and her face througha blur.``Hurry, girls; get it over. We've got topractice,'' said the captain.In the merry melee some one tied a knot ofribbon upon Wayne. Who it was he did not know;he saw only the averted face of Dorothy Huling.And as he returned to the field with a dull pang,he determined he would make her indifferencedisappear with the gladness of a victory for herteam.The practice was short, but long enough forWayne to locate the glaring weakness of Salisburyat shortstop and third base. In fact, mostof the players of his team showed rather poorform; they were overstrained, and plainly lackedexperience necessary for steadiness in animportant game.Burns, the catcher, however, gave Wayneconfidence. He was a short, sturdy youngster, withall the earmarks of a coming star. Huling, thecaptain, handled himself well at first base. TheBellville players were more matured, and some ofthem were former college cracks. Wayne sawthat he had his work cut out for him.The whistle blew. The Bellville team trottedto their position in the field; the umpire calledplay, and tossed a ball to Mackay, the long, leanGeorgetown pitcher.Wells, the first batter, fouled out; Stamford hitan easy bounce to the pitcher, and Clews put upa little Texas leaguer--all going out, one, two,three, on three pitched balls.The teams changed from bat to field. Waynefaced the plate amid vociferous cheering. Hefelt that he could beat this team even without goodsupport. He was in the finest condition, and hisarm had been resting for ten days. He knew thatif he had control of his high inshoot, theseBellville players would feel the whiz of some speedunder their chins.He struck Moore out, retired Reed on a measlyfly, and made Clark hit a weak grounder to second;and he walked in to the bench assured of theoutcome. On some days he had poor control; onothers his drop ball refused to work properly;but, as luck would have it, he had never hadgreater speed or accuracy, or a more bewilderingfast curve than on this day, when he meant towin a game for a girl.``Boys, I've got everything,'' he said to hisfellow-players, calling them around him. ``A coupleof runs will win for us. Now, listen, I knowMackay. He hasn't any speed, or much of a curve.All he's got is a teasing slow ball and a foxy head.Don't be too anxious to hit. Make him put 'emover.''But the Salisbury players were not proofagainst the tempting slow balls that Mackaydelivered. They hit at wide curves far off the plateand when they did connect with the ball it wasonly to send an easy chance to the infielders.The game seesawed along, inning after inning;it was a pitcher's battle that looked as if the firstrun scored would win the game. Mackay toyedwith the Salisbury boys; it was his pleasure totoss up twisting, floating balls that could scarcelybe hit out of the diamond. Wayne had theBellville players utterly at his mercy; he mixed up hishigh jump and fast drop so cleverly, with hissweeping out-curve, that his opponents were unableto gauge his delivery at all.In the first of the seventh, Barr for Bellvillehit a ball which the third baseman should havefielded. But he fumbled. The second batter senta fly to shortstop, who muffed it. The thirdhitter reached his base on another error by aninfielder. Here the bases were crowded, and thesituation had become critical all in a moment.Wayne believed the infield would go to pieces, andlose the game, then and there, if another hit wentto short or third.``Steady up, boys,'' called Wayne, and beckonedfor his catcher.``Burns, it's up to you and me,'' he said, in alow tone. ``I've got to fan the rest of thesehitters. You're doing splendidly. Now, watch closefor my drop. Be ready to go down on your knees.When I let myself out, the ball generally hits theground just back of the plate.''``Speed 'em over!'' said Burns, his sweaty facegrim and determined. ``I'll get in front of 'em.''The head of the batting list was up forBellville, and the whole Bellville contingent on theside lines rose and yelled and cheered.Moore was a left handed hitter, who choked hisbat up short, and poked at the ball. He was agood bunter, and swift on his feet. Wayne hadtaken his measure, as he had that of the otherplayers, earlier in the game; and he knew it wasgood pitching to keep the ball in close to Moore'shands, so that if he did hit it, the chances wereit would not go safe.Summoning all his strength, Wayne took hislong swing and shot the ball over the inside cornerwith terrific speed.One strike!Wayne knew it would not do to waste any ballsif he wished to maintain that speed, so he putthe second one in the same place. Moore strucktoo late.Two strikes!Then Burns signed for the last drop. Waynedelivered it with trepidation, for it was a hardcurve to handle. Moore fell all over himselftrying to hit it. Little Burns dropped to his kneesto block the vicious curve. It struck the ground,and, glancing, boomed deep on the breast protector.How the Salisbury supporters roared theirapproval! One man out--the bases full--with Reed,the slugging captain, at bat!If Reed had a weakness, Wayne had notdiscovered it yet, although Reed had not hit safely.The captain stood somewhat back from the plate,a fact that induced Wayne to try him with thespeedy outcurve. Reed lunged with a powerfulswing, pulling away from the plate, and he missedthe curve by a foot.Wayne did not need to know any more. Reedhad made his reputation slugging straight ballsfrom heedless pitchers. He chopped the air twicemore, and flung his bat savagely to the ground.``Two out--play the hitter!'' called Wayne tohis team.Clark, the third man up, was the surest batteron the Bellville team. He looked dangerous. Hehad made the only hit so far to the credit of histeam. Wayne tried to work him on a high, fastball close in. Clark swung freely and cracked aripping liner to left. Half the crowd roared, andthen groaned, for the beautiful hit went foul byseveral yards. Wayne wisely decided to risk allon his fast drop. Clark missed the first, fouledthe second.Two strikes!Then he waited. He cooly let one, two, threeof the fast drops go by without attempting to hitthem. Burns valiantly got his body in front ofthem. These balls were all over the plate, but toolow to be called strikes. With two strikes, andthree balls, and the bases full, Clark had the advantage.Tight as the place was, Wayne did not flinch.The game depended practically upon the next balldelivered. Wayne craftily and daringly decidedto use another fast drop, for of all his assortmentthat would be the one least expected by Clark.But it must be started higher, so that in caseClark made no effort to swing, it would still be astrike.Gripping the ball with a clinched hand, Wayneswung sharply, and drove it home with the limitof his power. It sped like a bullet, waist high,and just before reaching the plate darted downward,as if it had glanced on an invisible barrier.Clark was fooled completely and struck futilely.But the ball caromed from the hard ground, hitBurns with a resounding thud, and bounced away.Clark broke for first, and Moore dashed for home.Like a tiger the little catcher pounced upon theball, and, leaping back into line, blocked thesliding Moore three feet from the plate.Pandemonium burst loose among the Salisburyadherents. The men bawled, the women screamed,the boys shrieked, and all waved their hats andflags, and jumped up and down, and manifestedsymptoms of baseball insanity.In the first of the eighth inning, Mackay sailedup the balls like balloons, and disposed of threebatters on the same old weak hits to his cleverfielders. In the last of the eighth, Wayne struckout three more Bellville players.``Burns, you're up,'' said Wayne, who, in hisearnestness to win, kept cheering his comrades.``Do something. Get your base any way you can.Get in front of one. We must score this inning.''Faithful, battered Burns cunningly imposed hiship over the plate and received another bruise inthe interests of his team. The opposing playersfuriously stormed at the umpire for giving himhis base, but Burns' trick went through. Burnettbunted skilfully, sending Burns to second. Colehit a fly to center. Then Huling singled betweenshort and third.It became necessary for the umpire to delay thegame while he put the madly leaping boys backoff the coaching lines. The shrill, hilarious cheeringgradually died out, and the field settled into aforced quiet.Wayne hurried up to the plate and took hisposition. He had always been a timely hitter, andhe gritted his teeth in his resolve to settle thisgame. Mackay whirled his long arm, wheeled,took his long stride, and pitched a slow, tantalizingball that seemed never to get anywhere. ButWayne waited, timed it perfectly, and met itsquarely.The ball flew safely over short, and but for afine sprint and stop by the left fielder, would haveresulted in a triple, possibly a home run. As itwas, Burns and Huling scored; and Wayne, by aslide, reached second base. When he arose andsaw the disorderly riot, and heard the noise ofthat well-dressed audience, he had a moment ofexultation. Then Wells flew out to center endingthe chances for more runs.As Wayne received the ball in the pitcher's box,he paused and looked out across the field towarda white-crowned motor car, and he caught a gleamof Dorothy Huling's golden hair, and wonderedif she were glad.For nothing short of the miraculous couldsnatch this game from him now. Burns had withstooda severe pounding, but he would last outthe inning, and Wayne did not take into accountthe rest of the team. He opened up with noslackening of his terrific speed, and he struck out thethree remaining batters on eleven pitched balls.Then in the rising din he ran for Burns and gavehim a mighty hug.``You made the gamest stand of any catcher Iever pitched to,'' he said warmly.Burns looked at his quivering, puffed, andbleeding hands, and smiled as if to say that thiswas praise to remember, and reward enough.Then the crowd swooped down on them, and theywere swallowed up in the clamor and surge ofvictory. When Wayne got out of the thick andpress of it, he made a bee line for his hotel, andby running a gauntlet managed to escape.Resting, dressing, and dining were matterswhich he went through mechanically, with hismind ever on one thing. Later, he found a darkcorner of the porch and sat there waiting, thinking.There was to be a dance given in honor ofthe team that evening at the hotel. He watchedthe boys and girls pass up the steps. When themusic commenced, he arose and went into the hall.It was bright with white gowns, and gay withmovement.``There he is. Grab him, somebody,'' yelledHuling.``Do something for me, quick,'' implored Wayneof the captain, as he saw the young people wavetoward him.``Salisbury is yours tonight,'' replied Huling``Ask your sister to save me one dance.''Then he gave himself up. He took his meed ofpraise and flattery, and he withstood the batteryof arch eyes modestly, as became the winner ofmany fields. But even the reception after thePrinceton game paled in comparison with thisimpromptu dance.She was here. Always it seemed, while helistened or talked or danced, his eyes were drawn toa slender, graceful form, and a fair face crownedwith golden hair. Then he was making his wayto where she stood near one of the open windows.He never knew what he said to her, nor whatreply she made, but she put her arm in his, andpresently they were gliding over the polishedfloor. To Wayne the dance was a dream. He ledher through the hall and out upon the balcony,where composure strangely came to him.``Mr. Wayne, I have to thank you for savingthe day for us. You pitched magnificently.''``I would have broken my arm to win thatgame,'' burst out Wayne. ``Miss Huling, I madea blunder yesterday. I thought there was aconspiracy to persuade me to throw down Bellville.I've known of such things, and I resented it.You understand what I thought. I humbly offermy apologies, and beg that you forget the rudeobligation I forced upon you.''How cold she was! How unattainable in thatmoment! He caught his breath, and rushed on.``Your brother and the management of the clubhave asked me to pitch for Salisbury the remainderof the season. I shall be happy to--if----''``If what?'' She was all alive now, flushingwarmly, dark eyes alight, the girl of his dreams.``If you will forgive me--if you will let me beyour friend--if--Miss Huling, you will again wearthat bit of Yale blue.''``If, Mr. Wayne, you had very sharp eyes youwould have noticed that I still wear it!''
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