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
"Well, if we don't play to-day it's a mighty certain thing the 'Hopes'
won't," returned Bob, energetically.
"Boys, boys, what is the meaning of all this?"
The familiar tones of President Hopkins' voice, suddenly rising sharp
and clear, quelled the tumult around the captain.
"Stop!--I command you to stop this disgraceful scene at once!" he
called, sternly.
"They deserve to be suspended!" came in the sonorous voice of Captain
Bunderley.
The boys, taken completely by surprise, fell back in dismay before the
president.
But the reaction was only momentary.
"Hold the bases and keep on the field!" Dan Brown was yelling with all
his force. "Don't let the Ramblers sneak back a yard!"
"Stop, I say; stop!" repeated President Hopkins. His usually
good-natured face was glowing with keen indignation. "You are acting
most outrageously!"
"They're a lot of good-for-nothing young scamps!" thundered Captain
Bunderley.
"Scamps!" screeched Owen Lawrence from a distance of twenty-five feet.
"Why, we're only doing this because they need to have some sense beaten
into their heads."
"Listen to the bass voice of him!" piped Benny Wilkins, whose necktie
and collar had been torn loose and who was trying desperately to make
some entries in his big book. "Hurrah for 'Pinky' Crane!"
Professor Ivins, standing by the side of the president, stared at him
in amazement.
"What does he mean by such conduct?" he murmured.
Bob Somers, cool and collected, although his face was flushed from
his exertions, found himself facing not only the two professors and
Captain Bunderley but Mr. Rupert Barry and "Uncle" Steve. And behind
these he saw a great body of spectators.
"Uncle" Steve was evidently wildly excited. His expression seemed to
indicate an intense desire to join in the fray himself. The strong,
angular face of the millionaire exhibited every trace of the greatest
astonishment. He stood grasping his knotted stick as though half
expecting that the next moment he might be called upon to use it as a
means of defense.
"Boys, boys!" His harsh, rasping voice compelled instant attention.
"This disgraceful commotion must cease. I want that Brown chap to come
right over--do you understand?" He struck the ground vigorously with
his cane. "To come right over, I say!"
"He's done all this mischief!" bellowed Captain Bunderley.
"I'll find out mighty quick how such riotous scenes can go on in the
midst of a respectable community. What is the name of that other boy,
captain?"
"Lawrence."
"Oh, yes--Owen Lawrence. Some of you boys find Lawrence--tell him to
come here immediately." Mr. Barry glanced toward Bob Somers. "Did they
do any more than hurt your feelings?" he demanded.
"No, sir; not a bit. And they didn't do much of that, either," answered
Bob, wiping his perspiring face.
"I see you still have your nerve with you. Where is Roger Steele?"
"Roger Steele!" howled Benny; "Roger Steele; Mr. Barry wants you!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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