Challenge at Second Base (7 page)

“Phil will stay with the game now,” he said, almost to himself. “He’s not afraid of losing any more. He’s not afraid of making
errors, or striking out. I wonder what made him change his mind?”

14

T
he family stayed at a motel that night. They saw Phil the next morning for a while, and both Dad and Stan praised him.

“Man, what a catch you made!” said Stan. “Didn’t that ball sting?”

Phil grinned. “A little.”

They spent a couple of hours with him, seeing some of the sights around the city. Then they had lunch with him. Later a taxi
drove them to the airport, and they boarded their plane for home.

Stan watched clouds drift past the right wing of the big plane.

“I’ve been thinking about Phil, Dad,” he said.

“You have?”

“Yes. I bet he’s thought about those letters. Those mysterious letters I’ve been getting. What do you think, Dad?”

His father patted his knee and smiled. “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised, son. Not surprised at all.”

After the plane landed, Dad called a taxi to drive them home.

When Stan walked into his room, he found a package on his bed. It was box-shaped, and wrapped in red and white striped paper
with a large bow. Stan looked for a tag but didn’t find it.

“It
must
be mine,” he said to himself, his heart tingling.

He took off the bow and the wrapping. The box clearly showed what the package contained. A
Voyager
model!

“Phil gave it to me!” he shouted.

Sure enough, there was a card inside the
box.
Hi, little buddy. I hope you like this. Phil.

Stan carried it out to the living room, almost stumbling in his haste, and showed it to Mom, Dad, and Dottie. They acted surprised,
but almost immediately he knew they were only pretending. They had known about the package all the time!

He spent the next morning putting the model together. In the afternoon he looked over the baseball schedule and discovered
that the Falcons had a game with the Jaguars. They had split with the Jags before, so Stan wasn’t worried.

Suddenly he remembered Gary whipping the ball to him so hard that he had to miss it. How could Coach Barrett expect to make
a good combination around second base if Gary insisted on being bullheaded?

Mom, Dad, and Dottie came to the game and sat in the bleachers behind first base.
Stan wished they hadn’t come. He and Gary were starting, and he knew that things weren’t going to go just right between them.

Then he remembered the letters, and Phil. Phil had conquered the thing that had held him back from playing baseball. It must
have been the letters — those strange, mysterious letters — that had changed Phil.

As long as I think about those letters I feel all right. It’s as though they have some magic power.

The Jaguars were first up. A pop fly and two grounders to the infield took care of their first three men.

Jim Kendall, leading off for the Falcons, drew a walk, and Stan bunted him to second.

Frankie Smith, digging in hard, hit a dribbler down to second. He was thrown out, but Jim advanced to third. Then Duffy got
up and lifted a high fly toward left field. It soared like a meteor. This ball was really
going into orbit. Duffy tossed his bat aside and beat it for first.

But then the ball curved, and disappeared over the left-field fence!

“Foul ball!” boomed the umpire.

Duffy was nearly to second base. Shaking his head, he cut back across the diamond, picked up his bat, and tried it again.
The Jaguars’ pitcher slipped the next one by him. Then Duffy poled one to center field and the ball was caught.

Three away.

The Jaguars’ clean-up man swung two bats from one shoulder to the other as he stood just outside the batter’s box. Then he
flipped one aside and stepped to the plate. He was a left-hand hitter and looked mighty dangerous.

The outfielders moved toward the right. Eddie Lee went back ten steps. In the field Stan and George Page backed to the edge
of the grass.

Tommy got his signal, wound up, and delivered.

“Ball one!” shouted the umpire.

The next one was in there, and the batter swung.
Crack!
A high fly ball over second base!

Stan ran back for it, watching the ball constantly. Ahead of him he heard Eddie Lee coming toward him on a mad run, and a
horrible fright went through him. He’d read about players colliding. Sometimes it resulted in a serious injury. That mustn’t
happen now! Not when he had a chance to nab that fly!

“Let me take it, Eddie!” he yelled desperately. “Let me take it!”

“Go ahead!” cried Eddie.

The ball came down swiftly over his left shoulder. Stan put out his glove.
Smack!
He had it!

“Nice catch, Stan!” said Eddie.

Cheers and loud applause greeted Stan as
he turned and pegged the ball in to Gary. A warm feeling overwhelmed him as he trotted back to his position. He noticed that
Gary didn’t say a word, but Stan didn’t care now.

I’ll play the best I can. I’ll hustle after every ball. If I make an error I won’t feel as if the world has dropped on my
head. Even major leaguers miss them sometimes. I’ll try not to worry, or get disgusted again. Those are the things I must
remember. And if I must sit on the bench, so what? There’s another day coming, and another game.

Tommy fanned the next batter, and the third batter popped out.

“Let’s pick up some runs,” urged Coach Bartlett as the Falcons came to bat.

But the innings slipped by, and they didn’t get a man on base. That little right-hander on the mound for the Jaguars was pitching
a great game. Frankie, Duffy, Stan, and a couple of others had gone down swinging at his fast ball.

“What’s he got? Nothing!” grumbled Duffy. Yet the little pitcher had the Falcons eating out of his hand.

And then, in the fifth, with none on, the Jaguars’ clean-up hitter broke the nothing-nothing tie. He poled one over the left-field
fence for a home run.

15

T
he long hit inspired the Jaguars. The next man singled. Then, even though Jim and George played in on the grass, a bunt got
by Jim, and men were safe on first and second.

The Falcons’ infield began to chatter seriously. Coach Bartlett had put substitutes in several positions, but still kept in
Gary and Stan.

Then — a hard-hit ball down to short! Gary fielded it, pegged it to Stan!

A wild throw! It sailed past Stan, and the runners moved! Fuzzy Collins, now playing first, chased after the ball. The runners
reached their bases and held up.

Bases loaded and no outs!

The infielders moved in. The Jaguars had one run, but a hit now could mean one or two more. Possibly three. It would be a
shame to let the Jaguars plaster them with a shutout like that.

Tommy Hart worked hard on the batter and struck him out. Then a ground ball was hit to second, only a few feet from the bag.
Stan raced for it and caught it in his gloved hand. He could touch the bag and throw to first. Or he could touch the runner
coming from first and then throw it. But he might lose some precious time. He didn’t dare risk it.

He tossed the ball easily and accurately to Gary. Gary stepped on the edge of the bag, then pegged the ball to first.

A double play!

Three outs, and the Falcons trotted in, glad that that hectic inning was over.

Coach Bartlett motioned to Gary. Stan, sitting within earshot of them, heard the coach say:

“Gary, you had better change your attitude out there or I’ll have to bench you the next game, our last of the season. I’ve
warned you once before. I won’t again. Knock that chip off your shoulder and play ball as you should. Don’t think for one
minute I haven’t noticed how you’ve been acting toward Stan. I thought I was doing you a favor by putting you at short. Shortstop’s
about the toughest position on the diamond. You can field grounders well, and throw well. You could have thrown that ball
to Stan for a double play easily, but you deliberately threw it hard and wild. You didn’t make him look bad. You made yourself
look bad.”

Gary’s face turned red, and he looked toward the end of the dugout. Jeb was sitting there, gazing out upon the field.

“Don’t look at Jeb for sympathy,” said the coach. “It’s time you thought things out for
yourself. Okay. That’s all. But remember what I said. Get on deck. You’re second batter.”

Stan couldn’t believe his ears. He realized he was staring and his mouth was open. He caught Larry looking at him, and blushed.
Larry winked.

The Falcons failed to score at all, and the game went to the Jaguars, 1 to 0. It was still a shutout, but a very good game.

The Falcons closed the season on Friday against the Comets, who carried home the victory 8 to 2. Gary played. He and Stan
worked a double play, and afterwards he flashed a grin to Stan to prove that the chip on his shoulder was gone forever.

The next day the
Courier-Star
printed the League standings.

“Well, we didn’t do so bad. Did we, Dad?” said Stan.

Dad smiled. “Not at all. By the way, you received a letter in the mail.”

He was holding it in his hand. Stan shivered as he saw the familiar printing on the envelope.

“Another one?” he cried.

He opened it with eager, trembling fingers. Then he pulled out the letter and read it.

C
ONGRATULATIONS
! W
E THINK YOU
’
VE LICKED IT
. A
ND SO HAS
P
HIL
. Y
OUR EVER
-
LOVING FANS
, D
OTTIE AND
J
EB
.

Stan’s eyes widened. “Dottie and Jeb?” he shouted.

Dad laughed. “That’s right. They’ve been the writers of those mysterious letters.”

Stan was flabbergasted. Then he chuckled. “Got any old newspapers, Dad?” he asked. “I’m going to answer that letter!”

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