The High School Pitcher Part 28

"Tip Scammon?"

"Surely," nodded Darrin. "He's Ripley's right hand at nasty work, isn't he?"

"I'd hate to think that Fred had a hand in such mean business,"

muttered d.i.c.k, flus.h.i.+ng.

"Don't be simple," muttered Dave. "Who wanted to be crack pitcher for the nine? Who pitches to-day, if neither of us can? That would be a mean hint to throw out, if Ripley's past conduct didn't warrant the suspicion."

Later in the morning there was another phase of the sensation, and Dave came back with it. He was just in time to find d.i.c.k walking out into the little parlor of the flat, Dr. Bentley watching.

"Fine!" cheered Dave. "How is he, doctor?"

"Doing nicely," nodded Dr. Bentley.

"But how about the big problem---can he pitch to-day?"

"That's what we're trying to guess," replied the physician. "Now, see here, Prescott, you're to sit over there by the window, in the sunlight. During the first hour you will get up once in every five minutes and walk around the room once, then seating yourself again. In the second hour, you'll walk around twice, every five minutes. After that you may move about as much as you like, but don't go out of the room. I think you can, by this gentle exercise, work out all the little stiffness that's left there."

"And now for my news," cried Dave, as soon as the medical man had gone. "Fred Ripley ran into trouble, too."

"Got hurt, you mean?" asked d.i.c.k quickly.

"Not quite," went on Darrin, making a face. "When Fred was going into the house last night he tripped slightly---against a rope that had been stretched across the garden path between two stakes."

"But Fred wasn't hurt?"

"No; he says he tripped, but he recovered himself."

"I'm afraid you don't believe that, Dave?"

"I ought to, anyway," retorted Darrin dryly. "Fred is showing the rope."

"A piece of rope is easy enough to get," mused d.i.c.k.

"Yep; and a lie is easy enough for some fellows to tell. But some of the fellows are inclined to believe Rip, so they've started a yarn that Gardiner High School is up to tricks, and that some fellows have been sent over in advance to cripple our box men for to-day."

"That's vile!" flushed Prescott indignantly, as he got up to make the circuit of the room. "The Gardiner fellows have always been good, fair sportsmen. They wouldn't be back of any tricks of that sort."

"Well, Fred has managed to cover himself, anyway," returned Dave rather disgustedly. "He called his father and mother out to see the rope before he cut it away from the stakes. Oh, I guess a good many fellows will believe Ripley's yarn!"

"I'm afraid you don't, Dave;"

"Oh, yes; I'm easy," grinned Darrin.

"Can you see two young ladies, Richard?" asked Mrs. Prescott, looking into the room.

"Certainly, mother, if I get a chance. My vision is not impaired in the least," laughed d.i.c.k.

Mrs. Prescott stood aside to admit Laura and Belle, then followed them into the room.

"We came to make sure that Gridley is not to lose its great pitcher to-day," announced Laura.

"Then your father must have told you that I'd do," cried d.i.c.k, eagerly.

"Father?" pouted Miss Bentley. "You don't know him then. One can never get a word out of father about any of his patients.

But he said we might call."

The visit of the girls brightened up twenty minutes of the morning.

"Of course," said Laura, as they rose to go, "you mustn't attempt to pitch if you really can't do it, or if it would hurt you for future games."

"I'm afraid the coach won't let me pitch, unless your father says I can," murmured d.i.c.k, with a wry face.

Few in Gridley who knew the state of affairs had any idea that d.i.c.k Prescott would be able to stand in the box against Gardiner.

But the young pitcher boarded a trolley car, accompanied by Dave Darrin, and both reached the Athletic Field before two o'clock.

Dr. Bentley was there soon after. In the Gridley dressing room, d.i.c.k's left leg was bared, while Coach Luce drew off his coat and rolled up his s.h.i.+rt sleeves. Under the physician's direction the coach administered a very thorough ma.s.sage, following this with an alcohol rubbing.

When it was all over d.i.c.k rose to exhibit the motions of that leg before the eyes of the doubtful physician.

CHAPTER XVII

WHEN THE HOME FANS QUIVERED

"Is Prescott going to toss!"

"They say not."

"It's a shame."

"And there's a suspicion," whispered one of the High School speakers, "that the other name of the shame is Fred Ripley."

"He ought to be lynched!"

"But he claims that an attempt was made against him, also."

"Ripley never was strong on the truth."

Though the gossip about Fred Ripley was not general, the anxiety over Pitcher Prescott was heard on all sides.

"It'll be a sure hoodoo if Prescott can't pitch the season's first game," declared a man who seldom missed a High School game on the home diamond.

Before three o'clock the grand stand was comfortably filled.

The cheaper seats beyond held about as many spectators as they were built to hold.