Batting to Win: A Story of College Baseball

  CHAPTER XVI

  A SERIOUS CHARGE

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

  "Hush!" begged Ruth. "Poor Mabel! She isn't herself."

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

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

  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 whenshe and Mr. Henderson became such friends. Then came that item in thepaper, and his refusal to explain, and then meeting that horrid fellowat the picnic, and then--but I never expected her to break a lance forhim in this fashion. I guess she cares more than she shows," and withthis philosophical reflection Ruth bade her brother good night, as MissPhilock was marching aggressively up and down the corridor like asentinel, 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 scenefurther added, in the mind of the pitcher, to the mystery that wasenveloping Sid.

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

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

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

  "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 thiswas one of the occasions when they went to his room. They had permissionto be up beyond the usual hour, and it was rather late when theyreturned to their own apartment. Mellville had his rooms in a newfraternity house, not far from Booker Memorial Chapel, and to get totheir own room, which was in the west dormitory, Phil and Tom hadto cross the campus, and go in the rear of the "prof house," as thebuilding was called where Dr. Churchill and the faculty had their livingquarters. As the two chums were walking along, they became aware of afigure coming up the campus from another direction--from where the mainentrance gates of the college loomed up dimly in the darkness.

  "Some one's coming in late," murmured Phil.

  "Likely to get caught," added Tom. "I saw Proc. Zane sneaking around afew minutes ago."

  "By Jove, that walks like Sid!" whispered Phil, a moment later. "It isSid," he added.

  "Yes, and there goes Zane after him!" groaned Tom. "He's caught, sure,unless we can warn him. Poor old Sid!"

  "Too late," remarked Phil, as he saw the figure of the proctor breakinto a run. Sid also darted off, but soon he saw he had no chance toescape, and he stood still.

  "Ah, Mr. Henderson, good evening," greeted the proctor sarcastically."Out rather late, aren't you?"

  "I'm--I'm afraid so, sir," answered Sid hesitatingly; his two chums,from their position in the dark shadows of the faculty house being ableto hear everything.

  "No doubt about it," went on the proctor gleefully. He had kept vigilfor many nights of late, and his prey had escaped him. Now he had aquarry. "Have you permission to be out after hours?" demanded theofficial.

  "No, sir."

  "I thought not. Report to Dr. Churchill directly after chapel," and theproctor, by the light of a small pocket electric lamp he carried, beganto enter Sid's name in his book. As he did so Tom and Phil could see thewatch-dog of the college gate gaze sharply at their chum. Then Mr. Zane,putting out his hand, caught hold of Sid's coat.

  "Are they going to fight?" asked Tom in a hoarse whisper. "Sid must becrazy!"

  A moment later came the proctor's voice.

  "Ha, Mr. Henderson, I thought I smelled liquor on you! I am notdeceived. What have you in that pocket?"

  "Noth--nothing, sir," stammered Sid.

  There was a momentary struggle, and the proctor pulled something froman inner pocket of Sid's coat. By the gleam of the electric lamp, Tomand Phil could see that it was a bottle--a flask of the kind usuallyemployed to carry intoxicants--broad and flat, to fit in the pocket.

  "Ha! Mr. Henderson, this is serious!" exclaimed the proctor. "Trying tosmuggle liquor into the college! Come with me to my room at once. Thismust be investigated. I will find out who are guilty with you, in thismost serious breach of the rules. A bottle of liquor! Shameful! Comewith me, sir! Dr. Churchill shall hear of this instantly!" and he tookhold of Sid's arm, as if he feared the student would escape.

  "What do you think of that?" gasped Tom, as the full meaning of what hehad seen came home to him.

  "I give up," answered Phil hopelessly. "Poor, old Sid!"