The summer visitors present were fairly disgusted by the rowdyism of the tough gang. In vain they protested. They were mocked and derided and invited to “go chase themselves.” At last, unable to stand it longer, ladies began to leave the field in large numbers, accompanied by many of the gentlemen. “Is there anything like law and order in this town?” exclaimed Henry Duncan. “Are there no officers to stop such disgraceful conduct and arrest these ruffians?”
“Arrest nothing!” sneered one of the young toughs. “I’d like to see any officer try to pinch one of this gang! He’d get his head busted. You’d better take a sneak, mister, before something falls on you.”
“It certainly is a shame,” nodded William Drake. “Those Fairhaven lads will be given no show at all. Already the umpire is frightened, for he knows he’ll be mobbed unless he gives everything to Hammerswell’s team.”
The departure of the summer visitors from the field left Dick and his friends almost wholly without sympathizers and supporters.
Bart Hodge stood near the Fairhaven bench, watching and listening, a heavy cloud on his face and slumbering fire in his eyes.
“I’d like to have Frank’s Terrible Thirty here for about ten minutes,” he thought. “I reckon they’d clean out this mob in less time than that. This isn’t sport; it’s robbery.”
Henry Duncan touched him on the shoulder.
“It’s no use,” he said, soberly shaking his head. “The boys haven’t a chance under such conditions. I should advise you to urge Dick to take his team off the field. Of course the umpire will be bulldozed into forfeiting the game to Maplewood, but Dick can quit under protest, and I believe the game will be thrown out and not counted in the series.”
It was Bart’s turn to shake his head.
“I don’t believe Dick can be induced to leave the field,” he said. “He knew well enough what he was going against to-day, and he’ll fight it out to the finish. He has too much spirit to be a quitter.”
“That won’t be quitting,” declared Duncan. “It would be a simple demand for fair play and justice.”
“Still I’m certain Dick wouldn’t hear to it.”
“Well, I’m going out and look for an officer. I’m going to see if there’s no way to keep the peace here.”
“It would take twenty officers to quell this mob,” said Hodge. “One man couldn’t do a thing.”
Nevertheless Henry Duncan went forth in search of the local deputy sheriff, only to find that the officer was not in town. Later it was learned that he had been advised to get out of Maplewood and remain away until after the game was over.
Lumley, the batter who followed Halligan, tried hard to imitate the example of his predecessor in hitting, but drove a grounder to Obediah Tubbs, who gathered it up cleanly and whistled it to Singleton for an “out” that could not be disputed. Nevertheless, the hoodlums howled at Obediah, big Bob, and the umpire. They climbed over the ropes and crowded close to the base line on both sides of the field. In vain the umpire ordered them back.
Dillard obtained a scratch hit and reached first while Halligan took third.
Farrell lifted a fly to Jolliby, on which Halligan scored. With two men out, Garvin put up a ball that big Bob easily got under near first base. Just as the ball struck in Singleton’s hands two of the spectators rushed at him and upset him. They were not quick enough to keep him from making the catch, and the big first baseman held fast to the ball as he went down. He sprang up instantly and held the ball in his hand as he turned toward his assailant, who had retreated beyond the base line.
The umpire’s decision that Garvin was out was greeted with howls of angry disapproval by the hoodlums.
Maplewood had secured four scores in the first inning through trickery and the disreputable behavior of the crowd.
As the islanders came into their bench they were mocked and jeered and insulted in a manner that infuriated Buckhart, who was restrained with difficulty from retorting.
Merriwell was the first batter, and he sent a hot one to Connor, who fumbled it and made a scramble to pick it up.
Dick might have crossed first in safely with perfect ease, but as he ran down the base line one of the thugs stepped forward, thrust out a foot and tripped him. Before the captain of the islanders could recover Connor had secured the ball and thrown it across the diamond to Hunston.
“I swear I’ll stand no more of this!” snarled Buckhart, as he started up from the bench. “I’m going to put my brand on somebody if the whole herd stampedes over me!”
Dick seized him by the arm and checked him, pointing toward the gate.
“Who are those men?” he asked.
Through the gate came a broad-shouldered chap, and following him there appeared twenty more burly individuals. They were dressed in rough, working clothes, and every man had his coat off and his shirt sleeves rolled up.
The Texan uttered a cry of grim satisfaction and delight.
“Brick McLane, by all that’s lucky!” he shouted. “Those men with him are stonecutters from the island. There’ll be something doing now.”
With McLane and his stonecutters Henry Duncan had also appeared. Already he had told McLane all about what was taking place, and the husky lobsterman now marched onto the field, with his backers at his heels. Straight out to the home plate strode those men, and there McLane halted them.
“Gents,” cried the lobsterman, holding up one hand, “me and my friends is here to see a square deal. We understand Fairhaven isn’t getting it. We understand there’s some intimidating business taking place. I guess the most of you has heard of me. I generally make good any promise, and right here I want to promise them chaps that is kicking up a disturbance that we’ll surely wade into them and give them all the fun they want unless they cool down directly. From this time on this ball game is going to be on the level. Mr. Umpire, you give the decisions jest as you think is correct, and I’ll guarantee you protection when the game is finished. There shan’t nobody put a finger onto yer.”
In a surprising manner Benton Hammerswell had appeared from somewhere and was standing near the Maplewood bench as McLane made his announcement. The Maplewood manager felt a touch on his elbow, and turned to see Chester Arlington, in street clothes, at his side. Chester smiled scornfully into Hammerswell’s face.
“Perhaps you’ve stolen the game alrea............