Batting to Win: A Story of College Baseball

  CHAPTER IX

  A CLASH

  Sid stood facing his two chums, and his breath came quick and fast. Hewas much worked up over his discovery, as were also his roommates.

  "From the time I picked up this envelope, after that day when we hadlunch with your sister, Phil," he went on, "I've been trying to think inwhose handwriting it was. Perhaps I had no right to take the envelope,but I couldn't help it after she--Miss Harrison dropped it. To-night,after I saw him--saw Langridge out walking with her--I came back here,and I had a suspicion. I knew I had an old note of Langridge's somewherearound. I found it, and compared it with the envelope. You see what itshows."

  "He must have sent her the clipping," agreed Tom. "But why?"

  "Easy enough to see that," answered Sid. "He was mad because I--er--Ihappened to go with her a few times, and he is taking this courseto give me a bad name, though if she only knew it Langridge is nowhite-ribboner."

  "Maybe that was a fake clipping," suggested Phil. "I've heard of suchthings being done before. Langridge might have hired a printer to setthat item up so that it looked as if it was cut from a newspaper."

  "No," answered Sid quietly. "The item was genuine. I have a similar oneI cut from the Haddonfield _Herald_."

  "But it isn't true?" inquired Tom.

  "No--that is--well, I can't say anything about it," and Sid lookedmiserable again. "But I'm glad I found out who sent it to MissHarrison."

  "What are you going to do about it?" asked Tom.

  "I'm going to have it out with Langridge the first time I meet him. I'llpunch----"

  "Better go slow," advised Phil. "Take it easy, old man. Langridge is aslick article. We know that of old. If you try a rough-house he'll haveyou at a disadvantage."

  "I can't help it. I'm not going to let him get ahead of me this way."

  "Oh, forget it and play ball," advised Tom with a laugh, for he feltthat the subject was getting too serious, and his heart was wrapped upin his team, despite a certain pretty girl.

  "I only wish I could--forget it," answered Sid.

  It was several days after this, and a few days before the game withWescott University, which was to be played on the latter club'sgrounds, that Phil, Tom and Sid journeyed to the town of Haddonfieldto get some things to take with them on the trip. For it was quite ajourney to play Wescott, a college with whom Randall had clashed infootball, losing the game because Phil was taken sick and a new quarterback had to go in. It took a day to go and a day to come, and the ladswould need to take some baggage with them.

  The three chums had made their purchases, and were on their way to takea car back to Randall, when Sid grasped the arm of Tom.

  "There he is!" he exclaimed.

  "Who?" asked Tom, who was critically examining a new tie he hadpurchased.

  "Langridge!" cried Sid. "I'm going to have it out with him."

  "Don't," begged Phil, but it was too late, for Sid had crossed thestreet to where the former pitcher for Randall was walking with anotherchap, as sportily attired as was he.

  "I want to speak to you!" called Sid to his enemy, as he came up behindhim, Tom and Phil following at a distance.

  "What's that?" drawled Langridge, turning. "Oh, it's you, is itHenderson? Well, I don't know that I care to talk to you. I'm not usedto associating with chaps caught in gambling raids!"

  Sid was fairly trembling with rage, but he managed to take from hispocket a duplicate of the clipping which Miss Harrison had received.

  "Did you--did you send that to her?" spluttered Sid.

  "Send it to whom?" asked Langridge insolently.

  "Miss Harrison? That lying clipping about me? Did you send it, I ask?"

  "Well, supposing I did? It's a free country; isn't it? Besides, I'm notso sure that the clipping doesn't tell the truth."

  "Then you sent it!" cried Sid. "You don't dare deny it!"

  "Dare you deny that you are the person referred to in it? Dare you denythat you were in that gambling hall the night of the raid? Dare you denythat?" fired back Langridge.

  Sid seemed stunned.

  "I--I--er--how--how did you----" he was stammering.

  "I see you don't dare deny it," went on Langridge with a sneer. "Yourmanner is answer enough. Come on, Perkins. I don't care to prolong thisdiscussion."

  "But I do!" cried poor Sid, now beside himself. "I'll get even with youfor this dirty, sneaking piece of work! You dare send that clipping toher--to her! I'll----" he sprang forward, with clenched fists, andbefore Tom or Phil could stop him, he had struck Langridge. The latter,with a snarl of rage, jumped toward Sid, but his friend clasped his arm.

  "Not here! Not here!" implored Perkins. "You can't fight here,Langridge."

  "No, that's right," admitted the other with a shrug of his shoulders, ashe calmed himself with an effort. "And I don't know that I care, afterall, for the notoriety of fighting him." He turned aside. Sid was aboutto spring forward again, his face distorted with rage, but Tom and Philheld him back.

  "Come on," whispered the pitcher in his ear. "You don't know what you'redoing, Sid. You're only making matters worse."

  With something like a sob in his throat, Sid allowed his chums to leadhim away.