CHAPTER XXX.

  RATTLETON IS EXCITED.

  "It wasn't Merriwell's fault that the freshies didn't win," said BobCollingwood to Paul Pierson as they were riding back to New Haven on thetrain that night.

  "Not a bit of it," agreed Pierson. "I was expecting a great deal ofMerriwell, but I believe he is a better man than I thought he could be."

  "Then you have arrived at the conclusion that he is fast enough for theregular team?"

  "I rather think he is."

  "Will you give him a trial?"

  "We may. It is a bad thing for any freshman to get an exalted opinion ofhimself and his abilities, for it is likely to spoil him. I don't wantto spoil Merriwell--"

  "Look here," interrupted Collingwood, impulsively. "I am inclined todoubt if it is an easy thing to spoil that fellow. He hasn't put on airssince coming to Yale, has he?"

  "No."

  "Instead of that, he has lived rather simply--far more so than mostfellows would if they could afford anything better. He has made friendswith everybody who appeared to be white, no matter whether their parentspossessed boodle or were poor."

  "That is one secret of Merriwell's popularity. He hasn't shown signs ofthinking himself too good to be living."

  "Yet I have it straight that he has a fortune in his own right, and hemay live as swell as he likes while he is here. What do you think ofthat?"

  "It may be true," admitted Pierson. "He is an original sort of chap--"

  "But they say there isn't anything small or mean about him," put inCollingwood, swiftly. "He isn't living cheap for economy's sake. Youknow he doesn't drink."

  "Yes. I have made inquiries about his habits."

  "Still they say he opens wine for his friends now and then, drinkingginger ale, or something of that sort, while they are surrounding fizz,for which he settles. And he is liberal in other ways."

  "He is an enigma in some ways."

  "I have heard a wild sort of story about him, but I don't take muchstock in it. It is the invention of some fertile brain."

  "What is it?"

  "Oh, a lot of trash about his having traveled all over the world, beencaptured by pirates and cannibals, fought gorillas and tigers, shotelephants and so forth. Of course that's all rot."

  "Of course. What does he say about it?"

  "Oh, he simply laughs at the stories. If a fellow asks him point-blankif they are true he tells him not to let anybody string him. He seems toregard the whole business as a weak sort of joke that some fellow istrying to work."

  "Without doubt that's what it is, for he's too young to have had suchadventures. Besides that, there's no fellow modest enough to deny it ifhe had had them."

  "Of course there isn't."

  In this way that point was settled in their minds, for the time, atleast.

  There was no band to welcome 'Umpty-eight back to New Haven. No crowd ofcheering freshmen was at the station, and those who had gone on toCambridge to play and to see the game got off quietly--very quietly--andhurried to their rooms.

  Merriwell was in his room ahead of Rattleton. Harry finally appeared,wearing a sad and doleful countenance.

  "What's the matter, old man?" asked Frank as Harry came in and flung hishat on the floor, after which he dropped upon a chair. "You do not seemto feel well."

  "I should think you would eel felegant--I mean feel elegant!" snappedHarry, glaring at Frank.

  "Oh, what's the use to be all broken up over a little thing?"

  "Wow! Little thing!" whooped Harry. "I'd like to know what you call alittle thing--I would, by jee!"

  "You are excited, my boy. Calm down somewhat."

  "Oh, I am calm!" shouted Harry as he jumped up and kicked the chairflying into a corner. "I am perfectly calm!" he roared, tearing up anddown the room. "I never was calmer in all my life!"

  "You look it!" came in an amused manner from Frank's lips. "You are sovery calm that it is absolutely soothing and restful to the nerves toobserve you!"

  Harry stopped short before Frank, thrust his hands deep into hispockets, hunched his shoulders, thrust his head forward, and glaredfiercely into Merriwell's face.

  "There are times when it positively is a crime not to swear," hehoarsely said. "It seems to me that this is one of the times. If youwill cuss a little it will relieve my feelings immensely."

  "Why don't you swear?" laughed Frank.

  "Why don't I? Poly hoker--no, holy poker! I have been swearing all theway from Cambridge to New Haven, and I have completely run out ofprofanity."

  "Well, I think you have done enough for both of us."

  "Oh, indeed! Well, that is hard of me! I came in here expecting to findyou breaking the furniture, and you are as calm and serene as a summer'smorning. I tell you, Frank, it is an awful shock! And you are the onewho should do the most swearing. I can't understand you, hanged if Ican!"

  "Well, you know there is an old saw that says it is useless to cry overspilled milk--"

  "Confound your old saws! Crying and swearing are two different things.Don't you ever cuss, Frank?"

  "Never."

  "Well, I'd like to know how you can help it on an occasion like this!That is what gets me."

  "Never having acquired the habit, it is very easy to get along withoutswearing, which is, beyond a doubt, the most foolish habit a man can getinto."

  Rattleton held up both hands, with a look of absolute horror on hisface.

  "Don't--don't preach now!" he protested. "I think the habit of swearingis a blessing sometimes--an absolute blessing. A man can relieve hisfeelings that way when he can't any other."

  "You don't seem to have succeeded in relieving your feelings much."

  "I don't? Well, you should have seen me when I got aboard the train! Iwas at high pressure, and there was absolute danger of an explosion. Ijust had to open the safety valve and blow off. And I find you as calmas a clock! Oh, Frank, it is too much--too much!" and Harry pretended toweep.

  "Go it, old man," he smiled. "You will feel better pretty soon."

  "I don't know whether I will or not!" snapped Harry. "It was a sheastlybame--I mean a beastly shame! That game was ours!"

  "Not quite. It came very near being ours."

  "It was! Why, you actually had it pulled out! You held those fellowsdown and never gave them a single safe hit! That was wonderful work!"

  "Oh, I don't know. They are not such great batters."

  "Gordon found them pretty fast. I tell you some of those fellows arebatters--good ones, too."

  "Well, they didn't happen to get onto my delivery."

  "Happen! happen! happen! There was no happen about it. They couldn't getonto you. You had them at your mercy. It was wonderful pitching, and Ican lick the gun of a son--er--son of a gun that says it wasn't!"

  "I had a chance to size every man up while Gordon was pitching, and thatgave me the advantage."

  "That makes me tired! Of course you had time to size them up; but youcouldn't have kept them without a hit if you hadn't been a dandypitcher. Your modesty is simply sickening sometimes!"

  Then Harry pranced up and down the room like am infuriated tiger, almostgnashing his teeth and foaming at the mouth.

  "If I didn't think I could pitch some I wouldn't try it." said Frank,quietly. "But I am not fool enough to think I am the only one. There areothers."

  "Well, they are not freshmen, and I'll tell you that."

  "I don't know about that."

  "I do."

  "All right. Have it as you like it."

  "And you batted like a fiend. Twice at bat and two hits--a two-baggerand a three-bagger."

  "A single and a three-bagger, if you please."

  "Well, what's the matter with that? Whee jiz--mean jee whiz! Couldanybody ask for anything more? You got the three-bagger just when it wasneeded most, and you would have saved the game if you had come to thebat in the last inning."

  "You think so, but it is all guesswork. I might have struck out."

  "You might, but you wouldn
't. Oh, merry thunder! To think that a littlesingle would have tied that game, and we couldn't get it! It actuallymakes me ill at the pit of my stomach!"

  The expression on Harry's face seemed to indicate that he told thetruth, for he certainly looked ill.

  "Don't take it to heart so, my boy," said Frank. "The poor chaps earnedthat game, and they ought to have it. We'll win the last one of theseries, and that's all we want. Do you want to bury poor old Harvard?"

  "You can't bury her so deep that she won't crawl out, and you know that.Those fellows are decidedly soon up at Cambridge, and Yale does well toget all she can from them. You can't tell what will happen next game.They have seen you, and they may have a surprise to spring on us. If wepulled this game off the whole thing would be settled now."

  "Don't think for a moment that I underestimate Harvard. She is Yale'sgreatest rival and is bound to do us when she can.

  "We made a good bid for the game to-day, but it wasn't our luck to win,and so we may as well swallow our medicine and keep still."

  "It wasn't a case of luck at all," spluttered Harry. "It was sheerbull-headedness, that's what it was! If Put had put you in long beforehe did the game might have been saved."

  "He didn't like to pull Gordon out, you see."

  "Well, if he's running this team on sentiment, the sooner he quits thebetter it will be for the team."

  Frank said nothing, but he could not help feeling that Harry was right.Managing a ball team is purely a matter of business, and if a manager isafraid to hurt anybody's feelings he is a poor man for the position.

  "Why didn't he put you in in the first place?" asked Harry.

  "I don't know. I suppose he had reasons."

  "Oh, yes, he had reasons! And I rather think I know what they were. I amsure I do."

  "What were they?"

  "Didn't you expect to pitch the game from the start to-day?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "I thought so."

  Harry nodded, as if fully satisfied that he understood the whole matter.

  "Well," said Frank, a bit sharply, "you have not explained yourself. Iam curious to know why I was not put into the box at the start."

  "Well, I am glad to see you show some emotion, if it is nothing morethan curiosity. I had begun to think you would not show as much asthat."

  "Naturally I am curious."

  "Do you know that Paul Pierson, manager of the 'Varsity team, went on tosee this game?"

  "Yes."

  "Why do you suppose he did so?"

  "Oh, he is acquainted with several Harvard fellows, and I presume hewent to see them as much as to see the game."

  "He wasn't with any Harvard fellows at the game."

  "Well, what are you trying to get at?"

  "Don't be in a hurry," said Harry, who was now speaking with unusualcalmness. "You regard Old Put as your friend?"

  "I always have."

  "But you think he didn't use you just right to-day?"

  "I will confess that I don't like to be used to fall back on with thehope that I may pull out a game somebody else has lost."

  Harry nodded his satisfaction.

  "I knew you would feel that way, unless you had suddenly grown foolish.It's natural and it's right. There is no reason why you shouldn't be theregular pitcher for our team, but still Gordon is regarded as thepitcher, while you are the change pitcher. Frank, there is a nigger inthe woodpile."

  "You will have to make yourself clearer than that."

  "Putnam knew that Pierson was going to be present at the game."

  "Well?"

  "Pierson didn't go on to see any Harvard friends. He couldn't afford thetime just at this season with all he has on his hands."

  "Go on."

  "Putnam knew Pierson was not there to see any Harvard men."

  "Oh, take your time."

  Harry grinned. He was speaking with such deliberation that he did notonce twist his words or expressions about, as he often did when excitedand in a hurry.

  "That's why you wasn't put in at the start-off," he declared.

  "What is why? You will have to make the whole matter plainer than youhave so far. It is hazy."

  "Putnam did not want Pierson to see you pitch."

  "He didn't? Why not?"

  "Because Pierson was there for that very purpose."

  "Get out!"

  "I know what I am talking about. You have kept still about it, butPierson himself has let the cat out of the bag."

  "What cat?"

  "He has told--confidentially, you know--that he has thoughts of givingyou a trial on the regular team. The parties he told repeatedit--confidentially, you know--to others. It finally came to my ears. OldPut heard of it. Now, while Old Put seems to be your friend, he doesn'twant to lose you, and he had taken every precaution to keep you in thebackground. He has made Gordon more prominent, and he has not let youdo much pitching for Pierson to see. He permitted you to go in to-daybecause he was afraid Gordon would go all to pieces, and he knew what ahowl would go up if he didn't do something."

  Frank walked up and down the room. He did not permit himself to show anygreat amount of excitement, but there was a dark look on his handsomeface that told he was aroused. Harry saw that his roommate was stirredup at last.

  "As I have said," observed Frank, halting and speaking grimly. "I haveregarded Burnham Putnam as my friend; but if he has done as you claimfor the reasons you give he has not shown himself to be very friendly.There is likely to be an understanding between us."

  Rattleton nodded.

  "That's right," he said. "He may deny it, but I know I am not off mytrolley. He didn't want Piersan to see you work because he was afraidyou would show up so well that Pierson would nail you for the regularteam."

  "And you think that is why I have been kept in the background so muchsince the season opened?"

  "I am dead sure of it."

  "Putnam must have a grudge against me."

  "No, Frank; but he has displayed selfishness in the matter. I believehe has considered you a better man than Gordon all along, and he wantedyou on the team to use in case he got into a tight corner. That's why hedidn't want Pierson to see you work. He didn't want to lose you. But hewas forced to use you to-day, and you must have satisfied Pierson thatyou know your business."

  "Well, Harry, you have thrown light on dark places. To-morrow I willhave a little talk with Put about this matter."

  "That's right," grinned Harry; "and Pierson is liable to have a littletalk with you. You'll be on the regular team inside of a week."