Weatherby's Inning: A Story of College Life and Baseball

  CHAPTER XXI

  OFF TO COLLEGETOWN

  Ere Professor White had finished Anthony was on his feet with handsstretching forth for the paper. The look of delight which he hadflashed across at Jack and which still illumined his face caused thatyouth much wonderment.

  "Guess it's mine, all right," Anthony cried. The professor yielded thepaper, and Anthony read the article through in silence. When he handedit back his eyes were dancing behind the lenses of his spectacles."It's mine, sir; no doubt about it! The paper says all I need do isprove my ownership, and I can do that easily enough, for I have thenumber of the watch!"

  "But, Anthony," Jack objected, "you said that you'd----"

  "I'll go over to Gerrydale in the morning," Anthony interruptedhurriedly, shooting a warning glance at his friend. "I'm much obligedto you, sir; if you hadn't seen that and told me I don't believe I'dever have got it back; I don't read the papers very often myself."

  "Well, I'm glad I saw it, Tidball. When was it stolen?"

  "About a month ago," answered Anthony somewhat vaguely. "I left it inmy room, and when I came back for it it was gone. Of course I neverknew who'd taken it. But--I'm plaguy glad to find it again."

  "Of course, especially since it was presented to you. What is thestory, Tidball?"

  So Anthony told the professor about the rescue at Jonesboro, making itsound very casual and far from thrilling. But neither of his hearerswas deceived, and insistent questioning and cross-examining finallygave the incident a different aspect.

  "Well, yes," Anthony acknowledged, "there was quite a sea running--Danger? Nothing to speak of if you knew how to manage a dory-- The kid?Oh, he came round all right after a while; pretty near thing, though;another second or two would have finished him, likely. Father of theboy wanted me to take some money, but I wouldn't; a fellow doesn't takemoney for saving a life. So after he got home he sent me the watch.That's all. Good deal of fuss about it."

  After the professor had taken his departure, insisting, for somereason, on shaking hands with the tall, ungainly junior, Jack turnedupon Anthony and began his questions.

  "I didn't come right out, Jack, and say I'd pawned the watch," Anthonyexplained, "but I gave you to understand that. The fact is I didn'tknow what had become of it, and there wasn't any use saying it had beenstolen as long as I wasn't certain about it. I left it in the room onemorning when I went to recitation. I missed it in class, and came back,and couldn't find it. I guess the tramp found the door open and walkedin."

  "When was it?" asked Jack.

  "Oh, well, about a month ago."

  Jack looked thoughtful, and Anthony eyed him uneasily. At last Jackbrought one fist into the palm of his other hand and jumped up.

  "Anthony! Was it the morning I went off?"

  Anthony hesitated; but the boy's face showed that he had no suspicionthat Anthony had for a while connected him with the missing article.

  "Why, yes, it was," replied Anthony.

  "I thought so!" Jack cried. "I remember now that I saw atrampish-looking fellow on the street when I came from breakfast. Ipassed him. I didn't pay much attention, though, because I was--feelingsort of knocked out. But once I heard a noise in the entry here whileI was packing. I'll bet it was the tramp. And I remember seeing yourwatch on the table in your room, Anthony, when I took that note inthere, and--why, come to think of it, I put the note under the watch!"

  "He followed you in, I guess," said Anthony.

  "That's just what he did. And when I went out he was in your room, I'llbet. And--and he took my money, too, don't you suppose? I must haveleft it out somewhere!"

  "That's about what happened," Anthony replied, grinning jovially. "Iwish you could get your money back; but I guess that's too much to hopefor."

  "I suppose so. Oh, I don't care now. But I am glad you're going torecover your watch, Anthony. Wouldn't it have been funny if I'd goneback into your room again and found him there?"

  "Yes, but you might have got laid out!"

  "Laid out nothing! I'll bet I could have whipped that chap. And I wouldhave saved your watch, and----"

  "Missed your train!"

  "Yes, so I would have. I wonder if it would have made any difference? Ifancy it's best the way it all happened." He considered the subject fora moment in silence. Anthony beamed across at him happily. He was gladhe was to get his watch back, but gladder still that the last doubt asto Jack's honesty was dispelled; and, oh, so very glad that Jack knewnothing of his idiotic suspicions!

  "There's something I ought to tell you, Anthony," said Jack suddenly.He looked rather ashamed and apologetic and very serious. "I've thoughtof owning up several times, but--I never did," he continued.

  "Owning up? Well--what is it, Jack? Murder?"

  "No, it's--it's robbery!" Anthony stared.

  "That morning I went away," he continued, "I--I took something of yourswith me. It wasn't much, but I shouldn't have taken it."

  "Why, what was it?" Anthony asked wonderingly. "I haven't missedanything."

  "No; but then, I put it back afterward. It was a pencil."

  "A pencil!"

  "Yes, the green one with the rubber tip; the one you used to haveon your desk. I--I wanted something to remember you by," he addedshamefacedly. "And so I took that. I thought you wouldn't care. I wasgoing to write and tell you when I got home."

  "Well, I'll be jiggered!" exclaimed Anthony. "I missed that pencil fortwo or three days, and then one morning it turned up again on the desk.But, hang it, Jack, you were welcome to the old thing, of course! I'mglad you took it--glad you cared to remember such a silly old codger asI! Why, that was nothing; not worth mentioning. Besides, you gave methat charm, and fair exchange is no robbery!"

  "I'm glad you don't mind now that you know," said Jack simply. And,after a moment: "When you get your watch back again you can wear thatbean, can't you?" he asked.

  "Well, I should say so!" replied Anthony with much decision. "Andwhat's more, Jack, I'll wear it as long as the chain holds together!"

  There was no difficulty the next day in recovering the watch. Anthonygave a detailed description of it, and explained the circumstances ofthe robbery, and his property was handed over to him at once. But itis needless to say that Jack's roll of money was not among the objectsrecovered from the pawn-shop, nor was it found on the prisoner. Anthonywas told that it might become necessary for him to attend the trial andgive evidence. But he begged off very eloquently, and in the end thepolice decided that perhaps there would be evidence enough to convictthe thief without calling upon Anthony. And, as it turned out, thedecision was correct.

  Jack never learned that Anthony had for a while suspected him ofthe theft of the watch; and it was better so. For while Anthony'ssuspicions were certainly justified by circumstances, yet Jack couldnever have seen the matter in the same light, and would have beengreatly hurt had he ever learned of it.

  In the second week of June two things began simultaneously, finalexaminations and morning baseball practise. Naturally, the firstseriously interfered with the second, and it was only by the mostcomplicated arrangement on the part of Hanson that the players wereable to report at the nets during the forenoons for batting practise.Three assistant coaches had put in appearance in response to histelegrams, among them the captain of the unsuccessful nine of the yearbefore. Higgins was a good player and turned out to be as good a coach.His heart was set on witnessing a victory over the Brown and he workedenthusiastically and tirelessly. Afternoon practise began every dayat three-thirty, and never let up as long as there was a ray of lightleft. The slump was a thing of the past, and every man responded wellto the demands of the coaches. Stiles gradually recovered his form,and in the last game before the final contest--played on Thursday withHarwich Academy--he superseded Jack at second, and Jack, his hopesdead, sat on the bench and tried to be philosophic.

  That Thursday game attracted the biggest audience of any thus farplayed; not because the Academy team was strong enough to promise ahard-fought batt
le, but for the reason that it was given out that theErskine nine was to play just as it would in the game at Collegetownthe next day but one. The batting list was as follows:

  Perkins, catcher. Gilberth, pitcher. Motter, first base. Bissell, center-field. Stiles, second base. Knox, shortstop. Billings, third base. King, left-field. Northup, right-field.

  Allowing for the fact that every man had been worked hard all the weekup to the very beginning of the game, and that examinations were inprogress, the exhibition of ball-playing made by them was decidedlyencouraging. The cheering was a notable part of the contest. Led by thesenior class president and five assistants, the stands did heroic work,and cheers and songs thundered forth unceasingly.

  Jack, sitting forlornly on the bench, wedged in between othersubstitutes quite as forlorn, found balm for his disappointed hopes inthe fact that the song that went the best of any, and the one which wasmost often sung, was his. The way in which the throng emphasized the"Poor old Robinson!" was good to hear.

  When the game was at an end--it was almost dark by then--the spectatorsmarched back down William Street to the college, cheering and singingall the way. Jack, trotting over to the locker-house in the wake ofthe other players, heard from down the street the refrain arisingsplendidly to the summer sky:

  "Purple is the color of the stalwart and the brave; Purple are the banners that the conq'ring heroes wave; Purple are the violets above the lonely grave Of poor old Robinson! Glory, glory to the Purple! Glory, glory to the Purple! Glory, glory to the Purple! And down with Robinson!"

  The enthusiasm didn't cease until late at night. After dinner thefellows thronged the yard in front of Walton and the cheers and songswere gone through with again and again.

  There was little work the following day for the players. Morningpractise was omitted, and in the afternoon a little running andthrowing to bases constituted the program. In the evening there wasa reception to the nine and substitutes in Brown Hall, and againenthusiasm was rampant. The Glee Club sang, the college band played,the fellows cheered, the dean and Professor Nast and the coaches andCaptain Joseph Perkins made speeches, and there was a grand hullabaloountil half past nine.

  Jack bade good-by to Anthony that night, for the nine and substituteswere to go to Collegetown in the morning on a train that left at halfpast six. The supporters were to follow on a later train, but Anthonywas not to be among them.

  "I wish I were going," he said, "but I just can't afford it, Jack. ButI'll be down on the street in the afternoon, and while you're knockingbase runs and such things you'll know that I'm flinging my cap for youhere at home."

  "It's little chance I've got," said Jack sadly. "But I may get on for awhile, Anthony. Anyhow, I wish you were going along."

  "So do I. Good night, Jack, and good luck to you and the nine and oldErskine. You'll play, of course; they can't win without you, Jack! Goodnight!"