The Pennant by Everett T. Tomlinson — Read

When at last Walter and the Rodman nine came in from the field in order that the Benson players might have their share in the preliminary practice he laughed as he looked at the crowd that had assembled to watch the game. It was not much like the well-dressed assemblage that he knew was keenly watching every member of the nine when the Tait School played its great rival the Military Academy at Franklin. Automobiles then were regularly arranged back of the outfielders, the grandstand was gay with colors, and the cheers and songs, led by appointed leaders, broke in sharply on the tense silence that followed certain plays. Here, however, it was a motley crowd. Small boys were perched in the adjoining trees, awkward-appearing vehicles were standing here and there about the field, men with broad-brimmed straw hats and some with their trousers tucked inside of the tops of their high boots were eagerly watching the members of the two nines. If Walter was amused his feeling was not unkind, but the sight was so different from any he had ever seen before that perhaps his feeling was not unnatural.

Moulton now stepped forward and summoned the rival captains. As Dan turned away from the brief interview he waved his hand as a signal for his players to take the field, when Walter and the other members of the Rodman nine ran to their various positions in the field. The ball at last was thrown to Dan, and as the umpire called "play ball" the game was about to begin. Dan was very deliberate as he took the ball, rolled it in the dust a moment, then stepped into the pitcher's box and drew back his arm.