The Rival Pitchers: A Story of College Baseball

  CHAPTER XX

  A GAME OF ANOTHER SORT

  "Oh!" screamed Miss Tyler. "He'll be drowned! Save him, some one!"

  There was much commotion on the float. The crowd surged to the edge andit tilted dangerously.

  "Get back! get back!" cried Dan Woodhouse. "Get a boathook, some one!"

  "We will!" cried the Jersey twins, and together they darted for theplace where the rowing craft were stored.

  Langridge seemed stupefied at the result of his act. He stood there,peering down into the water beneath which Tom had disappeared.

  "Get back, I tell you! Get back!" yelled Woodhouse. "We can't get himout if you tilt the float so. We'll all be in the water!"

  Understanding this, the crowd of lads and girls moved back. CaptainWoodhouse was peering over the edge of the dock, looking for a sight ofTom, and meanwhile was taking off his coat and vest, preparatory to aplunge in.

  "There he is! I see his head!" suddenly cried Miss Tyler, and shepointed to a dark object barely visible in the shadows that weresettling down over the river.

  "I'll get him!" cried Langridge thickly, but he could not seem tounbutton his coat.

  "Look out!" cried a voice, and a tall, lithe figure, clad only in arowing jersey and trunks, pattered in bare feet down the length of thefloat.

  "It's Fenmore!" exclaimed several, and the tall sophomore, who had beenout in a single shell and who, arriving at the float, had understoodwhat had happened, plunged in. He swam quickly to Tom, who seemedbewildered and unable to help himself. But, if he was dazed, which theylater found to be the case, he had sense enough to let Fenmore rescuehim in the proper fashion and was soon being lifted out on the float.His face was pale and blood from a cut on his forehead trickled down onecheek.

  "Much hurt?" asked Dan Woodhouse as he put his arms about Tom.

  "No--not--not much," gasped the rescued one. "I hit my head on the edgeand that dazed me. I couldn't strike out, and I swallowed some--somewater," he gulped.

  "Can you walk?"

  "Sure. I'm all right now," but Tom began to shiver, for the evening hadturned cool and the water was not yet right for bathing.

  "Here, take my cloak for him!" exclaimed Miss Tyler, impulsively holdingout a thin wrap which was more for appearance than utility. "It willkeep him warm."

  "It will ruin it," declared Tom. "I'm as wet as a rat."

  "No matter!" cried the girl imperiously, and she tried to wrap it aboutTom's shoulders.

  "Here are some sweaters," said the more practical Kindlings. "Now run upto the infirmary, Tom, get into a hot bath and throw some hot lemonadeinto you."

  Tom prepared to start off and Miss Tyler had taken back her cloak. Shewent closer to Tom.

  "I'm awfully sorry. It was all on my account," she said. "I hope youwill be all right."

  "Su--sure I'll--I'll be all--all right," declared Tom, though his teethchattered in spite of himself, for he had sustained a nervous shock.

  "I'll inquire for you to-morrow," she added with a smile as she turnedaside.

  "I say, old man, I'm afraid I pushed you in, but I didn't mean to--'ponmy soul!" exclaimed Langridge earnestly as he edged up to Tom.

  "All--all right--it doesn't matter--now," answered Tom, and then hischums rushed him up to the college, where a warm bath and drinks weresoon effectively administered. No bad results attended the unexpectedplunge, and that night Tom was able to join in the celebration thatfollowed the winning of the ball game, when many bonfires blazed and thestudents were allowed more license than usual.

  It was about a week later when, following a rather hard series of gamesbetween the scrub and 'varsity teams in which Tom had strained his arm,Coach Lighton advised him to get a new kind of liniment to rub on it. Itcould only be had in a certain store in town, and, obtaining permissionto go there on condition that he return to college before nine o'clock,Tom started off alone one evening. Sid had to make up some lessons hewas "shaky" on, and though he wanted to take the walk, he did not feelthat he dared spare the time.

  On his way to the drug store Tom passed the side entrance of a certainresort much patronized by the "sporty" class of students. Several ladswere in there, as Tom could tell by the snatches of college songs thatfloated out, and as he got opposite the place the door swung open togive entrance to others and Tom saw Langridge sitting at a table withseveral flashily dressed lads. They were playing cards and glasses ofsome sort of liquor stood at their elbows, while most of them, includingLangridge, were smoking cigarettes.

  "He's broken training with a vengeance!" exclaimed Tom in a low voiceas he hurried on. "Cigarettes are the limit!"

  Tom tried not to think about what he had seen as he went on to the drugstore and had his prescription filled. He had to wait some little timefor it and as he came out he noticed by a clock that he would have tohurry if he wanted to get back to college in time.

  He started off briskly and just as he got in front of the side door ofthe resort the portal opened and several lads came out. Langridge waswith them, and all were somewhat worse for the lively evening they hadspent. The 'varsity pitcher, who seemed strangely hilarious, caughtsight of Tom.

  "Well, if there ain't my deadly rival!" he cried in what was intended tobe a friendly manner, but which was silly. "Hello, Parsons! Come in andhave a cigarette!"

  "No," was the answer in conciliatory tones. "I'm in a hurry to get backto the college. My time's nearly up."

  "So's mine--so's all of us. But what's the odds? We've got to have agood time once in a while, eh, fellows?"

  "Sure," came the chorus.

  "I can't smoke, I'm in training," spoke Tom, intending it to be a hint,if not to Langridge, at least to his companions.

  "So'm I, you old hunk of fried tripe! Have a smoke."

  "No," and Tom started on.

  "Hold on!" cried Langridge. "I'll go with you. I'm going to shake youfellows," and he waved his hand to his companions. "I'm going to bevirtuous and go to bed with the larks. I wonder if larks do go to bed,anyhow."

  "You mean chickens," declared one of the others with a laugh. "Come onthen, fellows, if Langridge goes back, we'll stay and have some morefun."

  Tom was not unwilling to play the good Samaritan, so linking his arm inthat of Langridge, he led him down the street. The 'varsity pitcher wasnot as steady on his feet as he should have been.

  "I--I s'pose you'll tell Kindlings and Lighton about me, eh, what?" heasked brokenly as he walked along.

  "No," said Tom quietly. "But you ought to cut it out, Langridge, if notfor your own sake for the sake of the team."

  "That's right, that's right, old man, I ought. You're a good sort ofchap, too preachy maybe, but all right. I ought to cut it out, but Ilike fun."

  "You ought to give up smoking and drinking," went on Tom boldly. He haddetermined that this was just the chance he wanted and decided that hewould take advantage of it.

  "There you go again! there you go again!" cried Langridge fretfully,with a sudden change of manner peculiar to him. "Don't go to lecturing.I get enough of that from Moses and Pitchfork. Give us a rest. I'm allright. Have another cigarette."

  "No," and Tom declined the proffered one.

  "Oh, I forgot you don't smoke. That's right. It's bad for the heart. Idon't take 'em only once in a while."

  Tom tried to reason with him, but Langridge was not himself and answeredpertly or else insulted Tom for his good offices.

  "You ought to give up gambling, too," Tom said, starting on a new tack.They were nearing the college now.

  "There you go again! there you go again!" exclaimed Langridge and he wasalmost crying, silly in his excitement.

  He sat down on a stone along the road and lighted another cigarette.

  "Now let's argue this thing out," he said. "I feel just like arguing,Parsons. Guess we'll call you 'dominie,' you're so fond of preaching.Let's argue."

  Tom tried to urge him to come on. It was getting late and only byrunning could they reach college and report before the prescr
ibed hour,nine o'clock. But Langridge was obstinate and would not come. Tom didnot want to leave him, for he had heard that Langridge did not stand anytoo well with the faculty, and a few more demerits would mean that hewould have to give up athletics. So Tom determined that, if possible, hewould get the foolish lad within bounds in time.

  But it was a useless undertaking, and Tom heard nine strokes boom out onthe chapel bell when they were some distance from college.

  "That cooks our goose!" he exclaimed. "It doesn't so much matter for me,as it's the first time, but Langridge will suffer if he's caught in thisplight."

  He redoubled his persuasive powers and by dint of much talk at lengthinduced Langridge to get up and come on. But it was half-past nine nowand it was twenty minutes to ten, when, with his arm linked in that ofthe lad he was trying to save in spite of himself, Tom walked up thecampus to get to the dormitory.

  The watchman opened the door at his knock. Langridge had slipped behindTom and stood in the deep shadow.

  "After hours," said the man simply. "You will report to the proctorto-morrow morning, Mr. Parsons."

  "Yes," replied Tom simply. Langridge was moving uneasily about in theshadows on the stone steps.

  "Any one with you, Mr. Parsons?"

  "Well--er--that is----"

  The watchman started to go out, thinking to catch several students. Atthat instant Langridge, with a cunning evidently born of long experience,circled around Tom on the opposite side to that on which the watchmanstood and darted down a small areaway that led to the basement.

  "Ha! trying to hide!" exclaimed the guardian of the door. "I'll find outwho you are!"

  In the darkness he went down into the areaway. A moment later Langridgehad roughly upset him there, and before the man could gain his feet, thepitcher had sprinted up the steps and into the open door of the dormitoryand thence along the corridor to his room. The watchman had not had aglimpse of his face.

  The man came panting up the steps.

  "Who--who was that with you, Mr. Parsons?" he demanded sternly as herubbed his bruised shins.

  Tom took a sudden resolve. There might be a chance for Langridge toescape.

  "I'm not going to tell," he said firmly but respectfully.

  "Very well," he replied. "You must report to Mr. Zane in the morning.I'll inform him of this outrage. He'll make you tell who was with you."

  "I don't believe he will," thought Tom as he went to his room.