Analy High School - Azalea Yearbook (Sebastopol, CA)

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would prove disastrous to the team. Arthur knew this too, he knew that he would now have a chance to prove to the captain that he was not a quitter, as he was the only pitcher left. It is needless to say that when Art took his place in the box, in the next inning, lie wore the usual smile on his face. Until the sixth inning the game went along pretty evenly, Analv being one in the lead when the seventh began. The first ball pitched over in this, inning was a fine one and the hatter was not asleep either. Crack! The ball started straight over the pitcher’s head toward second base. It was a high one and a little to the right of where Arthur was standing, so he tried for it with his ungloved hand. In some way he misjudged it, jumping a little too high, and the ball struck him on the wrist. It was done so quickly that at first Art thought no one had seen it. But, upon glancing toward Crawford, he saw that he was wrong. Crawford had seen it. Crawford! The very one that Arthur had wanted- to conceal it from. Surely,” Art thought, “He won’t be mean enough to take advantage of that.” By the next inning shooting pains were running from Art’s wrist to his shoulder. A hat could he do? He could not give up now, no matter how severe the pains were. Like a flash the thought came to him, the fielders had beeh doing extreme¬ ly good work, he would depend on them until his arm should get better. For the rest of the inning he took it easy, almost tossing the ball. Of course everyone hit it, but, due to excel¬ lent work of the fielders, it went as Arthur had expected and nobody reached first. As Arthur walked in to the bench he saw Sam talking to the coach and Carter out by first. He felt sure that they were talking about him. Was Crawford reminding them about him throwing the game? He would show them! He would win this game now or die in the attempt! When the seventh inning began the score stood six to five in Santa Rosa’s favor, but Arthur felt that his arm was a little better. It still pained him, but the numbness was gone from his fingers and, to his joy, he found that he had control of his speedy “in” again, although the pain was so great that each time he threw it it felt as if his arm would drop off. Still he kept on. Never before had a boy made such a fight ( 23 )

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“Well, old man, you’ll not see me in the box tomorrow, I suppose. It looks as if I ’ve got my walking papers for sure. Carter put Crawford in the box for that Petaluma game and hasn’t said anything to me about tomorrow’s yet, so T guess he don’t want me.” This was about the first news that Harry heard after his return. “Well, that son-of-a-gun!” Harry threw his cap down on the floor, as was his custom when a little angry. “You know I left here the day before that Petaluma game. Well, down in the “gym,” just before I left, I heard Crawford talking to Carter; I coluidn’t catch it all, but I heard something about throwing the game because he used to live there. It never dawned upon me that they might have meant you. You did go to Santa Rosa last year didn’t you?” “Why yes! But what difference does that make? Does he think I’d go back on old Analy? Does he think I’d ever for¬ get the old blue and white?” Arthur’s face grew red and he dug his finger nails into the table on which he was sit¬ ting, and stared blankly into the darkness. “I don’t see why he should, old boy, but it certainly looks that way. You see if Carter thought that you were going to throw the Santa Rosa game, that’s why he kept you out of that one with Petaluma.” About half an hour before the game Carter came around to Arthur and said, “I giuess I’ll let Sam pitch today and save your arm for that San Rafael game next week.” If Arthur’s eyes flashed at this, it was not his fault, for he tried to control himself. But this was the limit! San Rafael, Bah! This Santa Rosa game was by far more im¬ portant, and yet he was to save his arm for the San Ra¬ fael game! The umpire stepped into the box and called the game. Crawford was the second man up. “I would like to see him fan if it wasn’t for old Analv’s sake,” Arthur thought as the pitcher took his wind up. But he didn’t fan, possibly be¬ cause he didn’t have a chance, for the first ball pitched over the plate was a wild one, and almost a fatal one for poor Sam. He ducked just as the ball dropped, and was hit a terrific blow on the temple. Time was called to give the doctor a chance to examine Crawford. He pronounced it a pretty hard blow, and the captain knew that if he should pint Sam in the box now it ( 22 )

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against pain simply for the honor of his school. Once, twice, three times he felt that he must give up, but each time he looked up at the cheering crowd and his eyes fell upon the Blue and White. For her sake he must persevere! The game was over and Analy was again victor. Arthur felt himself being raised to the shoulders of a cheering mob of boys and carried to the “gym.” Oh, how his arm ached! But he was happy now, for he had won the day. In the dressing room the captain rushed up to Art and took him by the hand. “Good work old man! Fine. Say, Craw¬ ford was the only one who saw that lick you got, and I guess you made him feel mighty cheap. He told me all about it, ’fessed up to everything. He said that if he only had your “spirit” he’d be happy. He is the best friend you’ve got now. old boy!” Oh, break not bridge, thou tottering friend! Oh, trembling rock! smash not my bean! Earth keep your feet! Shine on, oh, sun! ’Till Ruth and I can be made one. ( 24 )