The Zane Grey Megapack. Zane Grey
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Players are good-for-nothing loafers, rowdies. I won’t have my son associate with them.”
“They’ve a bad name, I’ll admit; but, mother, I don’t think it’s deserved. I’m not sure, but I believe they’re not so black as they are painted. Anyway, even if they are, it won’t hurt me. I’ve an idea that a young man can be square and successful in baseball as in anything else. I’d rather take any other chance, but there isn’t any.”
“Oh! The disgrace of it! Your father would—”
“Now, see here, mother, you’re wrong. It’s no disgrace. Why, it’s a thousand times better than being a bartender, and I’d be that to help along. As for father,” his voice grew bitter, “if he’d been the right sort, we wouldn’t be here in this hovel. You’d have what you were once used to, and I’d be in school.”
“You’re not strong enough; you would get hurt,” protested the mother.
“Why, I’m as strong as a horse. I’m not afraid of being hurt. Ever since last summer when I made such a good record with the factory nine this idea has been growing. They say I’m one of the fastest boys in Akron, and this summer the big nine at the round-house wants me. It’s opened my eyes. With a little more experience, I could get on a salaried team somewhere.”
“You wouldn’t go away?”
“I’ll have to. And, for another thing, I want to go at once.”
Mrs. Alloway felt the ground slipping from under her. She opened her lips to make further remonstrance, but Chase kissed them shut, and keeping his arm around her, led her into the sitting-room. A pale youth, slight, like his mother, sat reading by a window.
“Will,” said Chase, “I’ve some news for you. Can you get through school, say in a year or less, and prepare for college?”
The younger boy looked up with a slight smile, such as he was wont to use in warding off Chase’s persistent optimism. The smile said sadly that he knew he would never go to college. But something in Chase’s straight eye startled him, then his mother’s white, agitated face told him this was different. He rose and limped a couple of steps toward them, a warm color suddenly tingeing his cheeks.
“What do you mean?” he questioned.
Then Chase told him. In conclusion he said: “Will, there’s big money in it. Three thousand a season is common, five for a great player. Who knows? Anyway, there’s from fifty to a hundred a month even in these Ohio and Michigan teams, and that’ll do to start with. You just take this from me: there’ll be a comfortable home for mother, you’ll go to college, and later I’ll get into business. It’s all settled. What do you think of it?”
“It’s great!” exclaimed Will, slamming down his book. There was a flame in his eyes.
Mrs. Alloway dropped her hands. She was persuaded. That from Will was the last straw. Tears began to fall.
“Mother, don’t be unhappy,” said Chase. “I am suited for something better than factory work. There’s a big chance for me here. Mind you, I’m only seventeen. Suppose I play ball for a few years. I’ll save my money, and when I’m twenty-two or twenty-five I can start a business of my own. It looks good to me!”
“But, my boy—if it—ruins you!”
“I don’t like to see Chase leave us,” said Will, “but I’m not afraid of that.”
Mrs. Alloway dried her eyes, called up her smile, and told them she was not afraid of it either. Thereafter her composure did not leave her, though her sensitive lips quivered when she saw Chase packing a small grip.
“I don’t want to take much,” he mused, “and most of all I’ll want my glove and ball-shoes. Will, isn’t it lucky about the shoes that college man gave me? They’re full of spikes. I’ve never played in them, but I tried them on, and I’ll bet I can run like a streak in them.”
It was not long after that when he kissed his mother as she followed him to the doorway. Will limped after him a little way down the path and shook hands for the tenth time. His eyes were wet as his mother’s, but Chase’s were bright and had a bold look.
“Chase, I never saw anyone who could run and throw like you, and I believe you’ll make the greatest player in the whole country. Don’t forget. It’ll be hard at first. But you hang on! Hang on! There! Good luck! Good-bye!”
Chase turned at the corner of the street and waved to them. There was a lump in his throat which was difficult to swallow. But it was too late to go back, so he struck out bravely.
CHAPTER II
RIDING AWAY
The fact that Chase had no objective point in mind did not detract from the new and absorbing charm of his situation. No more would he breathe the dust-laden air nor hear the din of the factory. He was free; free to go where he listed, to see new people and places, to find his fortune. He crushed back the pain in his throat; he reconciled himself to the parting from his mother and brother by the assurance that so he could serve them best.
It was twilight when he reached the railroad tracks, where he stopped momentarily. Would he go to the left or to the right? A moment only did he tarry undecided; after all, there was only one course for him to start on and keep to, whether of direction or purpose, and that was to the right.
Darkness had settled down by the time he came to the outskirts of the town, and now secure in the belief that he would not be seen, he stopped to wait for a train. It was out of the question for him to think of riding in a passenger train. That cost money; and he must save what little he had. On Saturdays, before he left school, he had ridden on freight trains; and what he had done for fun he would now do in earnest. Some of the railroads running into town forbade riding, others did not care; and Chase took his stand by the track of one of the generous roads.
The electric lights shot up brightly, like popping stars out of the darkness, and white glow arched itself over the town. Soon the shrill screech of a locomotive split the silence, then a rumbling and puffing told of an outward bound freight. The gleam of a headlight streaked along the rails. Chase saw with satisfaction that the train was on his track, but he had an uneasy feeling that it was running too fast to be boarded.
The huge black engine, like a one-eyed demon, roared by, shaking the earth. Chase watched the cars rattle by and tried to gauge their speed. It was so dark he could scarcely see, but he knew the train was running too fast to catch with safety. Still he did not hesitate. He waited a moment for an oil-car, and as one came abreast he dashed with it down the track. Reaching up with his left hand, he grasped a handlebar. Instantly he was swung upward and slapped against the car. But Chase knew that swing, and it did not break his hold. As he dropped back to an upright position he felt for the footstep, found it, and was safe.
He climbed aboard and sat against the oil-tank, placing his grip beside him. He laughed as he wiped the sweat from his brow. That was a time when the fun of boarding a freight did not appear. The blackness was all about him now; fields and woods and hills blurring by. The wind sang in his ears and cooled his face. The stars blinked above. The rasp and creak of the cars, the rhythmic click of the rails, the roar and rumble, were music to him, for they sang of the passing miles between him and wherever he was going.
Lights of villages twinkled by like Jack-o’-lanterns. These were succeeded after a while by the blank dim level of open country, that to Chase swept by monotonously for hours. Then a whistle enlivened him. He felt the engineer put on the air-brake, then the bumping and jarring of cars, and the grinding of wheels.
As the train slowed up, Chase made ready to jump off. He did so presently, expecting to see the lights of a town, but there were none. He saw the shadow of a block-signal house against the dark sky and concluded the engineer had stopped for orders at a junction-crossing. Chase hurried along the tracks, found an open boxcar, and climbed in.
It was an empty car with a layer of hay on the floor. He groped his way in the gloom, found a corner, and lay down with his head on his grip. It was