Batting to Win: A Story of College Baseball

  CHAPTER XXIII

  FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES

  Tom and Phil went to the Junior dance, taking Madge and Ruth, and,though they enjoyed it thoroughly, there was a little sorrow in thehearts of the two lads that Sid was not there to share the pleasure withthem.

  "I wonder why he didn't come?" asked Phil of Ruth, as the four stoodchatting about his absence, over an ice, during an intermission.

  "You ought to be able to guess," replied his sister.

  "Why?" persisted Phil.

  "Because a certain person with blue eyes didn't."

  "Oh, you mean----" and Phil would have blurted out the name, had notMiss Tyler laid a pretty hand over his mouth.

  "Hush," cautioned Madge. "No names out in company, if you please."

  "Oh!" exclaimed Tom comprehendingly. "How is she?"

  "Rather miserable," answered Ruth. "She wouldn't come with us, though weknew you boys wouldn't object."

  "Of course not," spoke Phil quickly.

  "And she stayed there in the room, moping."

  "Just like----" began Phil, and again the pretty fingers spreadthemselves across his lips.

  "It's too bad," resumed Tom. "If he only would explain then----"

  "Then everything would be all right," finished Ruth. "But he won't. Talkabout women having a mind of their own, and being stubborn! I know acertain young man very much that way."

  "Oh, you mustn't talk so about him," expostulated Phil. "He's all right.There's something queer at the bottom of it, and I shouldn't besurprised to learn that Langridge had had a hand in it."

  "By Jove, I never thought of that!" exclaimed Tom. "Maybe you're right.I wonder if we could do anything to help?"

  "Better not meddle," cautioned Ruth. "Madge and I tried to use ourinfluence, and were roundly snubbed for our pains. It's too bad, butmaybe things will come right after a while. Oh, there's a lovely waltz!Isn't it perfectly grand!" and her eyes sparkled in anticipation asTom led her out on the floor while the music welled forth in dreamystrains.

  Back in the "den of the inseparables" Sid sat in gloomy loneliness,making a pretense of studying.

  "Oh, hang it all!" he cried at length, as he flung the book from him,knocking down the alarm clock in its flight. "What is the use? I mightas well give up."

  Then, as he noted the cessation of the fussy ticking of the timepiece hecrossed to where it lay on the ragged rug, and picked it up.

  "Hope it isn't damaged," he murmured contritely. He shook it vigorously,and the ticking resumed. "It's all right," he added, with a breath ofrelief, "you couldn't hurt it with an axe. Guess I might as well turnin. But I wish----" he paused, shrugged his shoulders helplessly, anddid not finish.

  There came a knock at the door, and Sid started. He flung open theportal, and Wallops, the messenger, stood in the hall.

  "A note for you, Mr. Henderson," he said. "A fellow just brought it."

  Sid snatched it eagerly, a hopeful look showing on his face. Then, as hesaw the writing, there seemed to come into his eyes a shadow of fear.

  "All right, Wallops," he replied kindly, and he closed the door.

  "Again," he exclaimed. "Oh, will this never end? Must I carry thissecret all through college?" and he tore the note to bits. Then heslipped on another coat, pulled a cap down over his eyes and went out.

  "Why, Sid isn't here!" exclaimed Phil, when he and Tom, bubbling overstill, with the spirit of the dance, came back to their apartment, afterhaving escorted the girls home.

  "That's right," agreed the pitcher, "and he's not allowed any morepasses since that affair with the pocket flask. He's taking chances toslip out. Zane will be almost sure to catch him, and a few turns likethat and Sid will be expelled. I wonder what's gotten into him lately?"

  "Give it up," responded Phil. "Let's hope that he won't be nabbed."

  It was a vain hope, for Sid, coming into college about three o'clockthat morning, was detected by the proctor. There was quite a stir overit, and Sid came mighty near expulsion. Only his fine scholarship savedhim, but he was warned that another offense would be fatal to hischances.

  Sid said nothing to his chums, but maintained a gloomy reserve, whichwore off in a few days, but still left a cloud between them.

  Meanwhile Tom was kept busy with his studies and his interest in thenine, while Phil was "boning" away, seeking a scholarship prize, anddevoting as much time as he could to practice on the diamond.

  Sid, barred from participation in regular games, was, however, allowedto practice with the 'varsity, and play on the scrub as suited hisfancy, and Tom was glad to have him do either, for he cherished a secrethope that the ban might be removed before the end of the term, and hewanted Sid to keep in form. As for the second baseman he was becoming a"crackerjack" wielder of the stick, and at either right or left handwork was an example to be looked up to by the younger players, and hisaverage something to be sighed after.

  It happened one afternoon, a few days prior to an important out-of-towngame Tom's nine was to play, that the captain came upon Ed Kerr, themanager, busy figuring, in a corner of the gymnasium, his brow aswrinkled as a washboard.

  "What's the row?" asked Tom. "Conic sections or a problem in trig, Ed?"

  "It's a problem in finance," was the response. "Ferd Snowden, thetreasurer, has just handed me a statement of how the nine's financesare, and, for the life of me I can't see how it happened."

  "How what happened."

  "The shortage."

  "Shortage?" and there was a frightened note in Tom's voice.

  "Yes, shortage. I thought we were running along pretty well, butaccording to Snowden we're in debt to him about ten dollars, for moneyhe's advanced from his own pocket. He says he can't afford any more,and--well, it means we can't play Richfield Saturday."

  "Why not?"

  "Because we haven't money enough to take the team out of town, and backagain. Besides, Dutch needs a new catching mitt. I don't see how ithappened. I thought we were making money."

  "So did I. Let's go have a talk with Snowden."

  The treasurer of the nine could only confirm his statement. He showed byfigures that the amount of money taken in had not met the expenses, sofar.

  "The crowds haven't been what they ought to have been," Snowdenexplained. "Randall isn't drawing as it used to."

  "We're playing better ball," fired Tom at him.

  "That may be. I'm only talking from a money standpoint. We're in debtten dollars. Not that I mind, for I don't need the money, but I thoughtKerr ought to know. I can't advance any more, and the team can't go toRichfield without cash for railroad fare."

  "That's right," agreed Tom, scratching his head. "Well, the only thingto do is to call a meeting and ask for subscriptions. The fellowswill easily make up the deficit, and give enough over to provide fortraveling expenses. Dutch can use his old glove for a few games yet, andwe ought to get enough out of this Richfield game to put us on our feet.After that we have a number of contests that will draw big crowds. Thencomes the final whack at Boxer Hall, and that is always a money-maker.We'll come out right yet, Ed. Don't worry."

  "I'm not, only it looks as if I hadn't managed things right."

  "Nonsense! Of course you have. The fellows will go down in theirpockets. I'll call a meeting for this afternoon."