Batting to Win: A Story of College Baseball

  CHAPTER XXXI

  THE BAN LIFTED

  "I never knew that clock ticked so loud," remarked Tom, after a silencethat seemed interminable. "Listen to it."

  "It does make an infernal racket," responded Phil, and his voice soundedstrange to him. So great had been the strain engendered by the dramaticdeparture of Sid, that both Tom and Phil felt the awkwardness ofspeaking of commonplace matters after it. "Guess we'll get a newticker," suggested Phil, for want of something better to say.

  "No," answered Tom slowly. "Old things are best after all--even if theydon't keep just the right time. I'm attached to that clock."

  Somehow Tom felt that the simile might apply to Sid, but he did notmention it.

  "Is your hand--did he hurt it--I mean is it all right?" stammered Phil.

  "Oh, yes," replied Tom, with a glance at it. "Sid gave it a wrench, butI guess it will be all right to-morrow. I can't understand him, canyou?"

  "No, and I've given up trying."

  "No, don't do that!" begged Tom. "We've just got to save Sid."

  "But if he won't let us?"

  "We must do it in spite of himself. I will try to think of a way," andTom threw himself back on the sofa, and turned his face to the wall.Phil walked softly across the room, and sat down in the big chair.Somehow it seemed as if their chum had gone, never to return. For morethan an hour the two sat there, neither speaking, and the clock tickedon relentlessly.

  "Well," remarked Tom at length, with a sigh, "guess I'll turn in."

  Sid was in his bed when the two chums awoke in the morning, thoughneither Phil nor Tom had heard him come in. He did not refer to thehappening of the previous night, but after chapel, which was madeparticularly solemn by a short sermon by the doctor on the prodigal son,Sid drew away from his chums, who started for their classes.

  "Where you going?" asked Tom, for Sid and he had the same studies thismorning period.

  "Up to see Moses," was the answer, "Moses" being the students' pet namefor Dr. Churchill. "Zane caught me again last night. I was out afterhours without a permit. I'm in for it I guess," and Sid laughedrecklessly.

  "Why, old man----" began Tom, and then he stopped. He did not know whatto say. Then he felt it would be better to say nothing, and he hurriedon to the lecture, anxious to have it over with, and get out on thediamond with his men, for the final game with Fairview was to come offthat afternoon.

  Tom and Phil did not see Sid again until after the game, and then theyfelt in no condition to dwell upon his trouble, for Randall had beenbeaten by Fairview.

  It was a never-to-be-forgotten battle of the diamond. It opened well forRandall, for Tom felt a fierce anger at fate in general, that nerved himto pitch as he had seldom pitched before. Then things began to gobackward, for his hand was in no condition to stand the fierce worknecessary. Mr. Leighton saw this, and deciding to save Tom for the BoxerHall game, took him out of the box, and put in Evert. After that it wasall over but the shouting, and Fairview piled up eleven runs againstRandall's five. It was a miserable and dispirited lot of players thatfiled back to Randall that evening, nor could the sympathy of Ruth andMadge take any of the sting out of it for Tom.

  "It isn't so bad," remarked Phil, in a consoling sort of voice. "Westill have a chance."

  "A mighty slim chance," grumbled Tom. "Almost none at all. Oh, if oldSid had only been with us!"

  "There's no use talking about that now," went on Phil. "We simply mustdevote all our energies to the Boxer Hall game."

  "No use thinking of that unless Fairview loses to them," came from Tom,gloomily.

  "Oh, cheer up!" urged Phil. "You can't win the championship by feelingthat way," but his words did little to dispel the gloom in the heart ofthe captain.

  For the next few days there was hard practice. Tom's hand receivedspecial attention, and it was hoped that he could last the entire Boxergame. The batting improved very much, and the 'varsity nine was as muchon edge as it was possible for it to be. Meanwhile there was anxietyover the outcome of the Fairview-Boxer game.

  For some time past the Randall players had been reckoning percentages.It must be remembered that the games described in detail in this volumewere not the only ones played by the rival colleges in the league. Therewere many more contests than those set down here, but space will notpermit their description.

  Sufficient to say that, reckoning in some forfeited contests, andcomputing the standings on the basis of games won and lost, it developedthat if Boxer Hall beat Fairview it would make a tie for first placebetween Boxer and Randall, and all would then depend on the finalcontest between those two latter teams.

  Therefore it was with no small jubilation that the news was received, aweek later, that Boxer had downed Fairview.

  "Now for _our_ chance to win!" cried Tom, brightening up a little. "Allwe have to do is to wallop Boxer, and the loving cup is ours. But Oh,Phil! if we only had Sid!"

  "That's right. Have you noticed how queer he's been acting of late?"

  "Oh, it's the same old story. I'm done now. I made my last appeal. Bythe way, I didn't hear what happened the time he was last caught byZane. What was the verdict?"

  "It hasn't been announced yet. Faculty held a meeting but deferredaction. It means expulsion, of course. Poor old Sid!"

  "Well, he brought it on himself."

  "How do you know?" asked Phil sharply. "Maybe there's something we don'tunderstand."

  "And we never will," added Tom bitterly. "I consider that Sid has doneas much as any one to defeat the team if we lose the last game."

  "Oh, don't think that. How's your hand?"

  "Fine! I can last all right. It's the batting I'm worried about.Langridge will do his worst, and we must look for a fierce game. We'vegot to practice until the gong rings."

  Tom worked his men to the limit, with Coach Leighton to help him.Matters seemed a little brighter, and in spite of his words Tom had aforlorn hope that, after all, the faculty might relent, and allow Sid toplay.

  But this hope was dashed to the ground the night before the game. ThenSid came into the room, despondency showing on his face and in everymotion. He began hauling his things out of the closet and bureau, andpacking them in his trunk.

  "What's up, old man?" asked Phil in great surprise.

  "I'm leaving."

  "Leaving?" burst out Tom.

  "Yes. Expelled. Faculty just had a meeting on my case, and it's all off.I'm done!"

  "Look here!" cried Tom. "Are you going to let it go this far, Sid?Aren't you going to speak--going to tell your secret, and exonerateyourself?"

  "I can't," answered Sid simply, and his tone was so miserable that hischums forebore to question him further. His trunk was soon packed, andhe left the room. Neither Phil nor Tom felt like talking and went to bedearly. Sid did not return that night, and the two ball players were outearly, for practice on the diamond, in anticipation of the great anddeciding game which was to take place that afternoon on the Boxer Hallgrounds.

  A little before noon, when the team had gone to the gymnasium for alight dinner, and to have some last secret instruction from the coachand Tom, Sid Henderson crossed the college campus. With him wasan individual whom, had Phil or Tom seen, they would have at oncerecognized as the sporty youth who had met Sid the day of the islandpicnic. But there was a great change noticed in the young man. He nolonger wore the "loud" suit and the brilliant tie; he no longer smoked acigarette, and there was a chastened air about him.

  "Don't you feel a bit nervous about it, Guy?" asked Sid.

  "Not a bit, old man. It's a bitter dose to swallow, but I need it, Iguess. I wish I could do more for you. Are you sure it isn't too late?"

  "I hope not. The team hasn't gone yet. There's just a chance."

  "Well, I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me. No one elsewould have done as much. No one else would have kept his promise in theface of such odds. It wasn't right for me to ask you."

  "We agreed not to talk about that, you know, Guy."

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bsp; "I can't help mentioning it. Lead on. I'll explain to Dr. Churchill, andall the rest of them."

  The two disappeared into the doctor's residence, and, presently theremight have been seen wending their way thither the various members ofthe Randall college faculty.

  What took place occurred behind closed doors, and what that was, onlywas known afterward when Sid made his explanation. Sufficient, for thepresent, to say that the meeting was a protracted one, much to therestlessness of several of the younger professors who wanted to go toBoxer Hall to witness the championship struggle.

  "Well, then, are we all agreed?" asked Dr. Churchill, as he smiledkindly on Sid, and regarded with a pitying glance the youth whom thesecond baseman had addressed as Guy.

  "I think so," answered Professor Tines. "I seldom like to reverse myself,but I feel that it is warranted on this occasion. I will vote to removethe ban that has been on Mr. Henderson, and restore him to his fullcollege rights and privileges."

  "I think we all feel the same way," spoke Professor Bogardus, thescience teacher, "and I am glad that I can change my vote."

  "I think we all are," went on Dr. Churchill. "Mr. Henderson, Icongratulate you, in the name of the college, for bearing up as you did,in the face of heavy odds. You are now a Sophomore in good standing,and----"

  "May I play on the team?" burst out Sid.

  "You may," answered the genial old doctor, his eyes twinkling, "and I'llbe there to see you win, at least for the last part of the game. The banis removed, Mr. Henderson."

  "Thank you, all," spoke Sid feelingly to the assembled professors. Then,turning to his companion, he added: "Come on, Guy. I'm going to get inthe last game, after all."

  "No, I'll not come. You've had enough of me. I'm going back to mother.She--she needs me now," and the former sportily-attired lad turned away.

  Sid hurried over to the gymnasium. His heart was beating in wildexultation. At last he was eligible to play on the nine! He could helpthem to win, for that Randall would lose never entered his head.

  He reached the gymnasium. It seemed strangely deserted and quiet for achampionship day. Sid felt a sense as if an icy hand was clutching hisheart.

  "Where--where's the ball nine?" he asked one of the janitors.

  "The ball nine?"

  "Yes."

  Sid thought the man would never answer.

  "Oh, the ball nine has gone over an hour," was the reply. "They went toBoxer Hall in a big automobile--a rubberneck they calls 'em."

  "Gone! Over an hour!" gasped Sid. "Can I get there in time--in time toplay? I must! I will! It's my last chance! Oh, I must get there!" and hestarted on a run for the trolley line that led to Boxer Hall.