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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Besides, one of the best things about athletics, I think, is the spirit to fight for leadership. That's a useful lesson -leadership -to carry out into life, isn't it, sir?" "Yes, it is; you're right about that, son," nodded the lawyer. "Well, sir, Everett, one of the crack pitchers of national fame, is over in Duxbridge for the winter.
This point is really the key to the camp, and every man who lies down to sleep to-night leaves his life in your hands." "All right," replied Corporal Duxbridge in a voice that sounded weary. "You'll be sure to keep awake?" "I know my business, Sergeant." Hal Overton did not particularly like Duxbridge. He belonged to C Company, and was a man subject to occasional fits of crankiness.
In his fierce determination to carry away the star pitchership, especially from Dick Prescott, Ripley employed even Christmas afternoon by going over to Duxbridge and taking another lesson in pitching from the great Everett. "One, two, three, four! One, two, three, four! "Halt! Rest!" "Attention! Overhead to front and back. Commence! One, two, three, four!"
"Of course they would, sir, and that is the way in which Tomba, even in Manila, had planned to make our acquaintance, and use it for just such an undertaking as to-night's. It seems, sir, that having failed with us, he succeeded in getting on the right side of Corporal Duxbridge." "Where, I wonder?" muttered the captain. "And where is the Corporal?"
"Let her come in about as you want to." "He's going to try a spit ball," muttered several, as they saw Fred moisten his fingers. "That's a hard one for a greenhorn to put over," added another. Fred took his place with a rather confident air; he had been drilling at Duxbridge for some weeks now. Then, with a turn of his body, Ripley let the ball go off of his finger tips.
But to-night we tried to creep through the datto's lines and get here. All but the six men with me were caught, and their fate must have been awful." Señor Davo shuddered, then went on: "I come to beseech you that you allow my poor fellows to come inside your lines. You know me, Corporal, and know that we're all right." "Yes, bring your men inside our line," decided Corporal Duxbridge.
With the great Everett training me for weeks, I'll make you look like a pewter monkey, Dick Prescott." The next afternoon Fred and his father went over to Duxbridge. They found the great Everett at home, and not only at home, but willing to take up with their proposal. The celebrated professional pitcher named a price that caused Lawyer Ripley to hesitate for a few moments.
But Duxbridge, as well as the others, had his share of duty to perform. Late that night one of the men of the guard, stationed not far from Duxbridge, thought that he heard a slight noise down the slope. He listened only a moment, then felt sure that he had espied a figure crawling along further down the slope. "Halt!" called the soldier. "Halt or I'll fire. Who's there?"
"A friend," came the answer in perfectly good English. "For Heaven's sake don't fire. We've had enough of horrors with the fiends below. Where's Corporal Duxbridge? He knows me." "Corporal Duxbridge is on duty at this point," returned the soldier. "How many of you are there?" "Seven; but I will come up alone first and speak with the corporal." Duxbridge was called quietly.
He doesn't go south with his team for practice until the middle or latter part of February. Duxbridge is only twelve miles from here. He could come over here, or you could let your man take me over to Duxbridge in your auto. Dad, I want to be the pitcher of the crack battery in the school nine.
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