The Rival Pitchers: A Story of College Baseball
CHAPTER XXVI
THE FRESHMAN DINNER
They wanted Tom to ride back to the college with the team and thesubstitutes, but he would not leave Miss Tyler, and, though he was tornbetween two desires, he went back to the girl.
Moreover, he had an idea that it would not be altogether pleasant ridingin the same stage with Langridge, who, he had heard whispered, madestrenuous objection when Coach Lighton ordered him to give place to Tom.
"He'll be down on me more than ever," thought Tom as he made his wayback to the grandstand, which was rapidly emptying. "Well, I can't helpit."
"Your arm must be much better," remarked Miss Tyler as Tom came up toher. "You pitched finely."
"Well, I've had plenty of practice," was his answer. "I fancy Langridgewas tired out," he added generously. "It's no fun to pitch a losinggame."
"But you did."
"Oh, well, it was my first chance on the 'varsity, and I would havewelcomed it if the score had been a hundred to nothing."
"Will you pitch regularly now?"
"I don't know. I hope----"
But Tom stopped. He had almost forgotten that Miss Tyler was veryfriendly to Langridge, in spite of the little scene at the dance.
For two days after the disastrous game with Fairview Langridge sulked inhis room and would not report for practice. He talked somewhat wildlyabout Tom, the latter heard, and practically accused him of beingresponsible for his disgrace. He even said Tom was intriguing againsthim to win away his friends; meaning Kerr especially, for the 'varsitycatcher announced that he was done with Langridge as far as sociabilitywas concerned. But Kerr, hearing this, came to Tom's defense, and statedopenly that it was Langridge himself who was to blame.
Mr. Lighton would stand for no nonsense, and ordered Evert into thepitcher's box, promising that Tom should have the next chance. He wouldhave made Tom the regular substitute but for the fact that Evert, byright of seniority, was entitled to it. Hearing this news, Langridgecame out of his sulks and resumed practice.
"I have a large framed picture of Randall winning the league pennant,"announced Sid gloomily one night as he and Tom were sitting in theirroom. "Our stock is about fifty below par now, and with only a few moregames to play, we've practically got to win them all in order to top theleague."
"Maybe we'll do it," said Tom, in an endeavor to be cheerful.
"We might, if you pitched, but Langridge is that mean that he'll keep injust good enough form so Mr. Lighton won't send him to the bench, andthat's all. He won't do his best--no, I'll not say that. He is doing hisbest, but--well, something's wrong, and I guess I'm not the only one whoknows it."
"No," said Tom quietly. "I do and have for some time. It's been a puzzleto know what to do; keep still and let the 'varsity be beaten or squealon Langridge."
"Oh, one can't squeal, you know."
"No, that's what I thought, especially in my case. It would look as if Iwas grinding my own ax."
"That's so. No, you can't say anything. But it's tough luck. Maybesomething will turn up. We've got a couple of games on our own groundsnext, and we may do better. If we don't, we may as well order ourfuneral outfits. Well, I'm going to bone away at this confounded Latin.Ten thousand maledictions be upon the head of the Roman who inventedit!"
Sid opened his book, and studied for half an hour. Tom likewise wasbusily engaged, and only the ticking of the clock was heard, whensuddenly there came a gentle tap on the door.
"Who's there?" demanded Tom.
"Yellow, sky-blue and maroon," was the reply, which indicated that afreshman was without, that being the password.
"Flagpole," answered Sid, which being translated meant that it was safeto enter, no member of the faculty nor scout of the proctor's beingnigh.
Dutch Housenlager pushed open the portal and entered. He looked carefullyaround, and then, coming on tiptoe to the middle of the room, afterhaving carefully shut the door, said in a whisper:
"It's all arranged!"
"Nay, nay, kind sir," retorted Sid, with a shake of his head.
"Nay nay what?" demanded Dutch indignantly.
"No tricks to-night," went on Sid. "We're two virtuous young men. Webelong to the ancient and honorable order of _infra digs_ to-night,Dutch. Too near the exams. Thus did I exclaim 'nay, nay, kind sir.' Weare not to be tempted, nay, even if it were to take mine ancient enemy,Pitchfork, and drop him into the lake; eh, Tom?"
"Yes. I can't afford to take any chances. Twice bitten once shy, orwords to that effect, you know. I, too, am delving into the hiddenpaths that lead to the spring of which the poet doth sing."
"Say, you two give me a sore feeling in the cranium!" exclaimed Dutch ashe sank into the easy chair with force enough almost to disrupt it."Who's asking you to play any tricks?"
"Aren't you?"
"No."
"_Fiat justitia, ruat coelum!_" exclaimed Tom, with mock heroics. "Wehave done you an injustice, most noble Dutchman. Say on, and we willhear thee."
"I've a good notion not to," said Housenlager a bit sulkily. "Here Icome in to tell you fellows a piece of news, and I find you boning away,and when I start to talk you spout Latin mottoes at me. I've a goodnotion to dig out."
"Stay! Stay, dear friend!" cried Tom, laughing. "There, we'll chuckstudying for to-night, eh, Sid?"
"Sure. I'm sick of it."
"Now, say on," invited Tom.
Somewhat mollified, Dutch took an easier position in the creaking chair,thereby raising a cloud of dust, and remarked:
"Well, the freshman dinner will come off to-morrow night. It's just beendecided."
"Honest?" cried Sid.
"Sure. Our committee has everything in shape, and we'll fool the sophsthis time. Ford Fenton and I have been going around notifying thefellows. You see, we had to keep it quiet, because those sophs will putit on the blink if they can."
"Sure they will," agreed Tom. "Where is it to be----"
He stopped suddenly, for there was the sound of footsteps in the halloutside.
"Some one is spying," whispered Sid. Softly he opened the door and thenhe laughed. "It's Fenton," he said as the other entered.
"All through?" asked Dutch of his partner.
"Yes. I don't believe the sophs suspect. A few years ago, when thefreshmen had a dinner, the sophs ate it all up, and my uncle says----"
Tom significantly reached for a heavy book, and Ford, with adisappointed look, stopped his reminiscence.
"It's to be in Cardigan Hall, in town," explained Dutch, "and we'llstart from here in a----"
He paused in a listening attitude and tiptoed over to the door. Throwingthe portal open suddenly, he darted into the hall, the others crowdingup close to see what was going on.
"Some one was out there," declared Dutch as he came back, "but I couldn'tcatch him. Maybe it was only one of our boys, though. Now I'll tell youthe plans," and he proceeded to go into them into detail, telling Tom andSid where to join the other freshmen the next night, in order to stealaway to Haddonfield and hold their banquet undisturbed by the sophomores.
Tom and Sid promised to be on hand, and the two members of the committeedeparted, Ford Fenton being unable to tell what it was his uncle hadsaid. As Tom saw their guests to the door, something bright and shiningin the hall attracted his attention.
"It's a matchbox," he remarked as he picked it up. "It's got initialson, too."
"What are they?"
"Hum--look like H. E. G."
"Horace E. Gladdus," said Sid. "I wonder if he was sneaking around heretrying to catch on about the dinner?"