CHAPTER XXVII
GLOOMY DAYS
"Much hurt?" inquired Mr. Leighton anxiously, as he reached Tom's side.
"Oh, nothing to speak of," replied the plucky pitcher carelessly, butwhen he held up his hand a few drops of blood trickled from it, andthere was a thin, red line across the palm.
"You shouldn't have stopped that ball!" exclaimed Dutch, half savagely.
"I shouldn't? Do you think I was going to stand there and let it go by,and lose us the game?" demanded Tom. "I guess not--not for two sorehands!"
"But, it's your pitching hand," expostulated Dutch. "We need you therest of the season, and the championship is far from won--in fact it'salmost as far off as the stars," he added in a low voice, for he, too,had noted the lack of team work in the present game, and some that hadpreceded.
"Oh, don't be a croaker," advised Tom, trying to speak lightly though hewas in considerable pain. "I'll be all right in a week. We haven't anyhard game until then, and we'll go in and clean up all the roosts aroundhere before the season closes."
"I hope so," remarked Mr. Leighton in a low voice. "You had better letthe doctor look at that hand, Parsons. No use taking any chances."
The injury was temporarily bandaged and Tom, with a queer feeling abouthim, that was not at all connected with his wound, changed his uniformfor street clothing and returned to Randall with the nine. Dr. Marshall,later, dressed the hurt, and decided that Tom must refrain from playingball for at least a week--perhaps longer.
"I'll have Evert warming up all this week," decided the coach. "We playthe Branchville nine Saturday, and ought to win easily. Then I thinkyou'll be ready for Fairview the following week, and Boxer Hall afterthat."
"The last two big games," murmured Tom. "We've got to win them both ifwe want the championship, and I'm afraid----"
"Oh, cheer up!" advised Phil. "I know I played rotten to-day, but I'lldo better next time. Please forgive me?" and he assumed a mocking,contrite air, at which Tom could not help laughing.
"Get out!" exclaimed the captain. "You know I wasn't referring to you.But, seriously, Phil, something's got to be done. Think of it! We pulledthrough by the skin of our teeth to-day----"
"By the skin of your hand, you mean."
"Well, have it that way, but consider. Next Saturday will be an easycontest. Then comes Fairview and Boxer, both after our scalps. As itstands now we have played a number of games besides those with our twobig enemies and are tied with Boxer for first place, and the possessionof the loving cup. If we lose the Fairview game, and Boxer beatsFairview we will still have a show, by beating Boxer ourselves, but ifit goes the other way we're out of it. Our only hope is to do up bothFairview and Boxer, in succession, and how we are going to do it is morethan I can tell."
"Oh, we'll do it--somehow," declared Phil.
Matters, as regarded the baseball nine, did not improve much in the nextfew days, and Tom was filled with gloomy thoughts and dire forebodings.Though he was on hand at every practice the lads missed his sure armin the pitching box, though Evert did fairly well. The game withBranchville proved fairly easy, though Randall did not shine with anyunusual brilliancy.
"Hang it all, something's got to be done!" declared Tom on the nightafter the game. He was nervous and irritated, for his hand pained him,though it was nearly healed, and he was going to pitch in practice onMonday.
"What can be done?" inquired Phil, who was critically examining a newglove he had purchased.
"Sid, we might as well have it out," went on Tom, and he squared hisshoulders as if for a fight, as he confronted the deposed secondbaseman. "Are you or are you not going to play with us again thisseason? You know we need you. We want you to help us to bat to win. Areyou going to do it?"
"Why, it doesn't depend on me," answered Sid, in apparent surprise. "Ifthe doctor says the word I'll jump right in, and do my best. You knowthat. It's up to the faculty. If they remove the ban----"
"No, it's not up to the faculty!" declared Tom vigorously. "It's up toyou, and you know it. It's up to you to save the Randall 'varsity nine!"
"Up to me?" Sid had arisen from his seat near the window, and stood inthe middle of the room.
"Up to you," repeated Tom. "You know, as well as I do, that you weren'tguilty when Zane caught you with the liquor. You had that for some oneelse, and you're trying to shield him. You never use it--you had no usefor it, yet you kept still when they accused you, and didn't tell. Nowit's time to tell--it's time to say you were innocent--it's time to comeout and end this mystery. The team needs you! All you've got to do is totell the truth, instead of keeping silent, and you know the faculty willexonerate you. Then the ban will be removed, and you can play. That'swhy I say it's up to you. Isn't it now? Own up, Sid; did you have thatliquor for yourself? If you told the truth about it couldn't you getback on the team?"
Tom was fairly panting from the force of his appeal. Sid's face wasstrangely white, as he turned to look the captain full in the eyes. Fora moment he did not reply, and the breathing of the three chums couldplainly be heard, for Phil was as much agitated as either of the others.
"Answer me, Sid," pleaded Tom.
"I can't answer everything you ask," spoke Sid, in a low voice. "As Itold you before, I gave a promise, and, until I am released from it, Ican't speak--my lips are sealed."
"But you didn't have that liquor for yourself," persisted Tom. "Did you,now?"
"I'm not going to answer that," and Sid's hands were gripped on the backof a chair, until his knuckles showed white with the strain.
"Sid Henderson, will you--dare you say that if you told the truth aboutthis miserable business you would not be reinstated and allowed toplay?" went on the captain relentlessly. "If you told the whole story,couldn't you get back on the team?"
"I'm not going to tell," said Sid slowly.
"Then you don't want to get back on the team?" fired Tom quickly.
"More than you know--more than you know," was Sid's answer, as he wentout of the room.