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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Oh, yes, you're all out of practice!" laughed Bart. "You can't hit a bit, Carson!" He was glad to see Berlin laughing on second. "The old game's making him forget his troubles," thought Hodge. "That's the main reason why I wanted him to play." "These back numbers seem to be onto your curves, Dale!" cried Bob Bubbs. "Don't rub it in please don't!" implored Sparkfair.
You passed Bemis when I had him fairly struck out, and that gave Sparkfair a chance to make that hit. Before that we had three to one and were trimming them in great shape. Now they're two runs ahead of us. I suppose you've fixed it up with Spark. He's bound to win, if he has to make a deal with the umpire to do it." Dale Sparkfair, a handsome lad with blue eyes, broke into a merry laugh.
Sparkfair used all his skill to deceive Bart, and the boy's shoots and curves were indeed enigmas. Hodge could not solve them, and a great shout went up from the boys as Dale finally struck him out. Chuckleson lifted a foul that dropped into Shackleton's mitt. "Two gone, Spark two gone!" barked Bubbs. "Now you can hold 'em!" Hodge whispered instructions to Graves.
Kilgore can forfeit to you, and you may feel as proud as you like over your victory." "Perhaps we'll be able to pick up a pitcher and a second baseman to fill the vacancies," said Sparkfair, looking around. "Who'll volunteer? Any one will do. We want to finish out this practice game." "Come, Carson," urged Hodge, "let's you and I go into that game. I'll pitch, and you play second."
"If I get to ruminating on such things, I'll spring a leak and weep real tears," he muttered, as he rose to his feet. From the distance, Guy Featherstone shouted: "Yah! yah! You're not so much, Sparkfair! You're pie for a real batter!" With this parting taunt, Feather took Booby Walker's arm and led him away, both disappearing into the bathhouse. Tommy Chuckleson was the next hitter to face Dale.
Sparkfair attempted to cut the pan with a swift one, but Higgins hit it. It was a hot grounder to Netterby, who fumbled it long enough for Hungry Sam to arrive at first in safety. Tommy Chuckleson and Sam Scrogg were on the coaching lines. "We're off again!" shouted Scrogg. "Off again, on again, gone again!" piped Chuckleson. "It's up to you, Balloon! Don't take an ascension!"
Walter Shackleton hurried to meet Hodge and explained his system of signals. Bart listened and nodded. "Give me a few minutes to get the kinks out of my arm, Sparkfair?" he asked, as he again resumed the position at the pitching plate. "Sure, sure," smiled Dale. "Go ahead and unbend your wing." Hodge threw a dozen balls to Brooks at first.
It was a duplicate of Hodge's drive over center field. The regulars whooped with joy as runner after runner came galloping over the plate. They yelled like Indians as Sparkfair tore round the bases and came in from third. Four runs were secured, and once more the first team, had a lead of one tally. "That's where you got even with me, Sparkfair!" called Hodge. "I had to do it," laughed Dale.
From a distance in the opposite direction came a sharp signal whistle that was answered by one of the three persons in the wagon. "That's Merry!" exclaimed Berlin Carson, as he leaped out. "I wonder what's happened here. Somebody's smashed up." Two minutes later young Joe Crowfoot, Frank Merriwell, Bart Hodge, and Dale Sparkfair arrived.
Each day it seems that they take hold of the work with fresh enthusiasm and energy." "You've got a great baseball bunch there, Merry," said Hodge. "I don't wonder they trimmed everything in their class hereabouts. As a pitcher, that fellow Sparkfair is the real article." Frank nodded. "You're right. Sparkfair is a wonder." "But I can't quite fathom him," confessed Hodge.
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