Two Strikes on Johnny Read Online Free Page A

box and talked
     something over.
    “They're afraid of you, Marty!” Mickey yelled.
    Marty grinned as he faced the pitcher. The pitcher stretched, threw. Marty swung. Crack! The ball sailed over short.
    Peter scored. The coach held Stevie up on third. It was a single for Marty. TheCardinals stood up and cheered him.
    Davie came to bat and popped out to third. Two outs. Freddie hit a grounder to second. The second baseman fumbled the ball,
     then threw to first. But Freddie was safe. Stevie scored on the play.
    Rangers — 4, Cardinals — 3.
    Butchie walked to the plate, looked over the first pitch.
    “Ball one!”
    The chatter rose on the Cardinals' bench. “Come on, Butchie! Ducks on the pond! Win your own ball game!”
    “Strike!”
    Manager Davis leaned over and tapped Johnny Doane's knee. “Pick up a bat, Johnny. Get on deck. What's the matter? Something
     bothering you, Johnny?”
    “No. I'm all right.” Johnny rose from the bench and picked up a bat.
    He was scared, but how could he tell Mr. Davis that? If he batted with men on bases again — He turned his back to Mr. Davis
     so that the manager couldn't see his face.
    “Ball two!”
    Again the pitch. “Ball three!”
    A lump filled Johnny's throat. If Butchie walked, the bags would be loaded. He thought he knew then what the Rangers had planned.
     They would walk Butchie so they could pitch to
him
. They probably knew, just as he did, that he couldn't hit with men on bases. Johnny swallowed.
    The pitch. “Strike two!”
    The Cardinals' bench went wild. Three and two was the count. The only unhappy person there was Johnny.
    And then, crack! Butchie's bat met theball solidly. The ball sailed high into the air toward deep center field. The fielder raced back. He lifted his glove. A second
     later the ball lay like a big white egg in it.
    A sad groan rose from the Cardinals' bench.
    The only happy person there now was Johnny. He didn't have to bat with men on. He didn't have to bat at all.

6
    I IN THEIR half of the fourth inning the first batter for the Rangers grounded out to short. The second man walked. Butchie struck out
     the next man, which made it four strike-outs for him. Then a Ranger poled one out to center. Johnny ran under it and caught
     it.
    What he expected to happen happened again. Marty French started it. “That-away, Johnny! Nice catch, boy!”
    Then Butchie said something, and then Stevie, and one or two of the others. He was trying to ignore it as he ran in withhis head down. He could hear Michael clap his hands. He could hear Sand bark. Johnny had to tell them not to do that again.
     He just had to.
    He was panting as he reached the bench. He looked at the manager, at Stevie, and then at Marty. But the words would not come.
     They were frozen in his throat.
    Marty slapped him on the back. He still had on his belly guard and knee guards. He grinned through the sweat and dirt that
     smeared his face. “Hi, Johnny! Nice catch! You looked like a big leaguer!”
    Johnny looked directly at him. Suddenly the lump melted in his throat and the words spilled from his lips.
    “Stop saying those things, Marty! You must! You and the rest of the team. I know what you're doing it for. You think you'remaking my brother Michael feel good by yelling like that.”
    “Sure! I know we are!” said Marty. “Did you see him get up and cheer with us?”
    “But it isn't fair!” cried Johnny, shaking his head. “I don't deserve any of that stuff. Anybody could have caught that last
     fly. And you guys made it sound like I'd made a great catch.”
    “Oh, Johnny,” said Butchie, “forget it. We're doing it for Michael. You want him to be happy, don't you?”
    “Yes. But not that way.”
    “Then how?”
    Johnny looked at the ground. “I don't know,” he said sadly.
    “Break it up, boys,” Mr. Davis said. “Come on, Johnny. You're first hitter. Let him get a strike on you before you take any
     cuts.”
    Johnny picked up a bat and stepped to the plate.