Joe was madly racing after the ball, which had gone away beyond him. He got it and hurled it to second for a relay home, as a quick glance had shown him the man rounding third.

Straight and true the ball went and the baseman had it. Then he sent it to Catcher Ferguson as the runner was racing in. Sam had run from his box and stood watching and expectant near home plate.

The runner dropped and slid and Bart Ferguson, as the ball landed in his mitt, reached over to touch him.

"Safe!" howled the umpire, and it meant the defeat of the Silver Stars.

For a moment there was silence and then Sam, stepping up to the umpire, a lad smaller than himself, said:

"Safe, eh? Not in a thousand years! You don't know how to umpire a game.

Safe! I guess not!" and drawing back his fist Sam sent it crashing into the face of the other lad.

CHAPTER XIX

JOE IS WATCHED

There was an uproar in an instant. Players started for Sam and the unoffending lad whom he had struck. There were savage yells, calling for vengeance. Even Sam's mates, used as they were to his fits of temper, were not prepared for this. The Whizzer players were wild to get at him, but, instinctively Darrell, Joe, Rankin, and some of the others of the Silver Stars formed a protecting cordon about their pitcher.

"Are you crazy, Sam? What in the world did you do that for?" demanded the manager.

"He made a rank decision, an unfair one!" cried Sam, "and when I called him down he was going to hit me. I got in ahead of him--that's all."

"That's not so!" cried the Whizzer captain. "I saw it all."

"That's right!" chimed in some of his mates.

"Farson never raised his hand to him!" declared another lad, who had been standing near the umpire. "You're a big coward to hit a chap smaller than you are!" he called tauntingly to Sam.

"Well, I'm not afraid to hit you!" cried the pitcher, who seemed to have lost control of himself. "And if you want anything you know how to get it."

"Yes, and I'm willing to take it right now," yelled the other, stepping up to Sam.

There might have been another fight then and there, for both lads were unreasonable with anger, but Darrell quickly stepped in between them.

"Look here!" burst out the Stars' manager, in what he tried to make a good-natured and reasoning voice, "this has got to stop. We didn't come here to fight, we came to play baseball and you trimmed us properly."

"Then why don't you fellows take your medicine?" demanded the home captain. "What right has he got to tackle our umpire?"

"No right at all," admitted Darrell. "Sam was in the wrong and he'll apologize. He probably thought the man was out."

"And he _was_ out!" exploded the unreasonable pitcher. "I'll not apologize, either."

"Wipe up the field with 'em!" came in murmurs from the home players.

Several of the lads had grasped their bats.

It was a critical moment and Darrell felt it. He pulled Sam to one side and whispered rapidly and tensely in his ear:

"Sam, you've got to apologize, and you've got to admit that the runner was safe. There's no other way out of it."

"Suppose I won't?"

There was defiance in Sam's air. Darrell took a quick decision.

"Then I'll put you out of the team!" was his instant rejoinder, and it came so promptly that Sam winced.

Now it is one thing to resign, but quite another to be read out of an organization, whether it be a baseball team or a political society. Sam realized this. He might have, in his anger, refused to belong to the Silver Stars and, later on he could boast of having gotten out of his own accord. But to be "fired" carried no glory with it, and Sam was ever on the lookout for glory.

"Do you mean that?" he asked of Darrell. "Won't you fellows stick up for me?"

He looked a vain appeal to his mates.

"I mean every word of it," replied the manager firmly. "We fellows would stick up for you if you were in the right, but you're dead wrong this time. It's apologize or get out of the team!"

Once more Sam paused. He could hear the angry murmurs of the home players as they watched him, waiting for his decision. Even some of his own mates were regarding him with unfriendly eyes. He must make a virtue of necessity.

"All right--I--I apologize," said Sam in a low voice. "The runner was safe I guess."

"You'd better be sure about it," said the captain of the Whizzers, in a peculiar tone as he looked at Sam.

"Oh, I'm sure all right."

"And you're sorry you hit our umpire?" persisted the captain, for Sam's apology had not been very satisfactory.

"Yes. You needn't rub it in," growled the pitcher.

"Then why don't you shake hands with him, and tell him so like a man?"

went on the home captain.

"I won't shake hands with him!" exclaimed the small umpire. "I don't shake hands with cowards!"

There was another murmur, and the trouble that had been so nearly adjusted threatened to break out again. But Darrell was wise in his day.

"That's all right!" he called, more cheerily than he felt. "You fellows beat us fairly and on the level. We haven't a kick coming, but we may treat you to a dose of the same medicine when we have a return game; eh, old man?" and he made his way to the opposing captain and the manager and cordially shook hands with them. There was a half cheer from the Whizzers. They liked a good loser.

"Yes, maybe you can turn the tables on us," admitted the other manager, "but I hope when we do come to Riverside you'll have a different pitcher," and he glanced significantly at Sam.

"No telling," replied Darrell with a laugh. "Come on, fellows. We'll give three cheers for the team that beat us and then we'll beat it for home."

It was rather a silent crowd of the Silver Stars that rode in the special trolley. Following them was another car containing some of the "rooters." They made up in liveliness what the team members lacked in spirits, for there were a number of girls with the lads, Joe's sister and Tom's being among them, and they started some school songs.

And the gloom that seemed to hang over the Stars was not altogether because of their defeat. It was the remembrance of Sam's unsportsmanlike act, and it rankled deep.

On his part it is doubtful if Sam felt any remorse. He was a hot-tempered lad, used to having his own way, and probably he thought he had done just right in chastising the umpire for what he regarded as a rank decision.

Darrell, Rankin and some of the others tried to be jolly and start a line of talk that would make the lads forget the unpleasant incident, but it is doubtful if they succeeded to any great extent.