Batting to Win Part 22

Tom did well in the "quizz," and this made him more than ever anxious to help Sid in his trouble. But the second baseman made no reference to it, and in practice that afternoon he did better than in several previous days at his stick work.

"We'll eat up Dodville," prophesied Tom exultantly. "That's the way to lambast 'em, Sid!"

But Randall didn't "eat up" Dodville. They beat the preparatory school nine, as indeed they should have done, but the score was no great showing of the abilities of Randall.

For the smaller lads. .h.i.t Tom rather too frequently, and their fielding was a joy to the heart of their coach and captain. Even Mr. Leighton complimented them on it, and he did not say much to his own men, who, to say the least, were a bit ragged.

"Dodville shouldn't have gotten more than one run," declared the coach as the nine was returning, "yet you fellows let them get six."

"Yes," added Tom bitterly. "I can see a large, gold-framed picture of us winning that loving cup, when we go up against Boxer Hall and Fairview again."

"You needn't talk," declared Sid, somewhat bitterly. "You issued plenty of walking papers to-day, and they found you several times, in spite of your curves."

"I didn't m.u.f.f a ball, and let a man get away from me on second, though," retorted Tom.

"Oh, come on, fellows, let's sing," proposed Holly Cross, as a way out of the difficulty, and when some of the old college lays had been rendered the team was in better humor.

That evening, when Tom was putting a new toe-plate on his shoe, and Sid was pretending to study in one corner of the room, but scarcely glancing at his book, there came a summons at the door. Sid jumped up at the knock, and there was a look of apprehension on his face, which vanished, however, when Wallops, the messenger, came with word that Phil was wanted on the telephone. The first baseman returned presently, to announce:

"My sister wants to see me, over at Fairview."

"Anything the matter?" asked Tom quickly, and with suspicious interest.

"No, she has a letter from dad, with something in about vacation plans, and she wants to talk to me about it. I'll be back soon. Don't sit up for me--ta-ta," and Phil was gone.

It was not quite as difficult for him to gain admission to the young ladies' side of the Fairview inst.i.tution as it had been for Tom, on one memorable occasion, when he had called to tell Ruth that her brother had been hurt in a football game. Then Miss Philock, the preceptress, seemed to think Tom was going to carry off some of her charges out of hand.

"What is it, sis?" asked Phil, when his sister had come down to talk to him.

"Oh, it's about where we're going this summer. Dad and Momsey have left it to me. I want to go to Europe awfully, Phil, and if you and I both ask, maybe they'll take us. Will you? That's what I wanted to see you about, and I couldn't wait to write, so I telephoned. Don't you want to go to Europe?"

"Not much! I'm going camping with Sid and Tom. No Europe for me! We're going to do Yellowstone Park, and----"

"Oh, Phil, and I was so counting on Europe," and Ruth began to argue with her brother. In the midst of it the door of the little reception room opened, and in came Madge and Miss Harrison.

"Oh, excuse us, dear," exclaimed Madge. "We didn't know you were here."

"Do stay," urged Ruth. "It's only Phil. Perhaps you can help me persuade him to join with me in begging the folks to take us to Europe," and Phil's sister looked knowingly at Madge.

"Oh, wouldn't that be fine!" exclaimed Miss Tyler. "I heard mamma and papa talking about making a tour this year, and of course if they went I'd go too. Then we might see each other, Ruth. I don't see why you're so opposed to Europe, Mr. Clinton."

"Oh, I'm not," answered Phil quickly, doing some hard thinking before he reversed himself. "In fact I rather like it. Perhaps we will postpone the camping trip and--er--well, I don't care, sis. If you can work the folks for a trip across the pond I'm with you."

"Oh, thank you so much!" exclaimed Ruth, and she made a motion as though to kiss her brother, only Phil ducked.

"How fortunate you people are to go abroad," spoke Miss Harrison. "I've been longing to go," and they began to talk of many things they wished to see. From that the talk switched to baseball, and before she thought Ruth remarked:

"Is Mr. Henderson batting as well as ever?"

"Not as well as he might," declared Phil, and he spoke not to disparage Sid, but merely as a lover of his team. "There's something wrong with Sid," he went on, scarcely aware of what he was saying. "He's going down, somehow. I'm afraid he's gotten in with a bad crowd. That sporty chap we met him with isn't doing him any good, and Sid will slump, if he isn't careful. He used to be a steady chap, but I'm afraid he's going to the bad."

"Oh, what a shame!" remarked Ruth.

"Yes, and he was so steady," added Madge.

Miss Harrison was biting her lips. Her face had first flushed, but now was white.

"I think it's very mean of you to say such things about him when he isn't here," she burst out. "Sid--I mean Mr. Henderson--doesn't--I mean--I'm sure he wouldn't--anyhow, why don't you be fair to him?" and, before any of the others could answer, she burst into tears and fled from the room.

CHAPTER XVI

A SERIOUS CHARGE

"Well, what do you know about that?" exclaimed Phil, turning to his sister and Miss Tyler. "If that isn't the limit!"

"Hus.h.!.+" begged Ruth. "Poor Mabel! She isn't herself."

"I wasn't saying anything against Sid," went on Phil. "I only said it was too bad something seemed to have gotten hold of him lately. Then she flies up----"

"How dare you speak about Mabel flying up?" interrupted Ruth, stamping her little foot, and shaking her finger at her brother. "She's nervous and upset, that's all. You'd better go to her, Madge. Perhaps she has a headache."

Miss Tyler, with a sympathetic look at Phil, glided from the apartment.

"What do you s'pose ailed Miss Harrison?" asked Phil.

"I don't know," replied Ruth. "Of course it was rather unexpected when she and Mr. Henderson became such friends. Then came that item in the paper, and his refusal to explain, and then meeting that horrid fellow at the picnic, and then--but I never expected her to break a lance for him in this fas.h.i.+on. I guess she cares more than she shows," and with this philosophical reflection Ruth bade her brother good night, as Miss Philock was marching aggressively up and down the corridor like a sentinel, for the hour of retiring was approaching.

"Now don't say a word about this to Sid," cautioned Ruth.

"Of course not," growled Phil.

"Nor Tom Parsons, either."

Phil grunted, but that night he told Tom everything, and the scene further added, in the mind of the pitcher, to the mystery that was enveloping Sid.

"Maybe the worst of it's over," suggested Tom, as they were discussing the matter. "Sid hasn't been out late nights for two weeks now, and he's studying hard. He's playing the game, too. We'll beat Fairview the next time we tackle 'em, and wipe up Boxer Hall, likewise."

But alas for Tom's hopes. Two nights later, as the three chums were studying in their room, Wallops brought a note for Sid, who showed much perturbation, and hastily went out, saying nothing to his chums.

"There he goes again," remarked Tom helplessly, as the door closed on Sid.

"Um," grunted Phil. He had nothing to say.

Phil and Tom, who were taking up some advanced work in mathematics, spent two evenings a week "boning" with Mellville, a senior, and this was one of the occasions when they went to his room. They had permission to be up beyond the usual hour, and it was rather late when they returned to their own apartment. Mellville had his rooms in a new fraternity house, not far from Booker Memorial Chapel, and to get to their own room, which was in the west dormitory, Phil and Tom had to cross the campus, and go in the rear of the "prof house," as the building was called where Dr. Churchill and the faculty had their living quarters. As the two chums were walking along, they became aware of a figure coming up the campus from another direction--from where the main entrance gates of the college loomed up dimly in the darkness.