The Rambler Club's ball nineSheppard, W. Crispin (William Crispin)
General
The Rambler Club's ball nine
Sheppard, W. Crispin (William Crispin)
Baseball stories; Boys -- Societies and clubs -- Juvenile fiction; High school students -- Juvenile fiction
Contents
I. THE NEW BALL FIELD
II. MR. BARRY
III. THE "RETREAT"
IV. THE LIST OF PLAYERS
V. THE GRUMBLERS
VI. THE FIRST GAME
VII. FOUR TO NOTHING
VIII. DISCOURAGEMENT
IX. MR. BARRY ASKS QUESTIONS
X. THE "FEARLESS" ARRIVES
XI. GOOD BASEBALL WEATHER
XII. "FOR THE GOOD OF THE SCHOOL"
XIII. THE CHALLENGE
XIV. REBELLION
XV. A DECISION
XVI. TOM IS "RATTLED"
XVII. BENNY WINS A NOTE-BOOK
XVIII. THE PRESIDENT SPEAKS
XIX. THE VERDICT OF THE SCHOOL
XX. THE WISH OF THE MAJORITY
XXI. ROCKVILLE IS PUZZLED
XXII. PLAIN TALK
XXIII. BOB SCORES AT LAST
XXIV. THE "HOPES" ARE BLASTED
Illustrations
"GET RIGHT BACK TO YOUR PLACE"
"IT'S FOR THE GOOD OF THE SCHOOL"
"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH THE BALL NINE?"
"I KNOW YOUR GAME"
THE SOAP BOX WAS SHOVED VIOLENTLY
The Rambler Club's Ball Nine
CHAPTER I
THE NEW BALL FIELD
"Great Scott! Maybe that chap can't run!"
"You're right, Earl. But it will take more than running to beat the
Stars and Goose Hill fellows, to say nothing of Rockville Academy. That
crowd over there certainly has a corking team. Say, Roycroft, you ought
to be on Bob Somers' nine."
Earl Roycroft, a six-foot boy weighing almost two hundred pounds,
settled his big frame in a more comfortable position on the rail fence.
His eyes mechanically followed the runners speeding one after another
around a lot used by the Kingswood High School students as a baseball
and training field.
"Why, it isn't Bob Somers' team; it's the school's, Nat," he protested,
mildly.
Nat Wingate, a handsome, dark-haired boy with flashing brown eyes,
smiled.
"Well, Somers seems to be having things pretty much his own way," he
answered. "When I was captain, last year, it was mighty different.
Stand up for your rights, Roycroft. The team needs a great big chap
like you, and----"
"Great Scott, but he can sprint!"
"Well, it would be mighty funny if a fellow who has such long legs as
Tom Clifton couldn't sprint," returned Nat, dryly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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