CHAPTER X

SID IS SPIKED

"By Jove, but I'm glad we're going out of town for a game," remarked Tom to Phil the next morning.

"Why?" inquired the first baseman, as he critically examined his favorite mushroom bat, which he had mended with wire and tape.

"Because of Sid. It may put him on his feet again, after this business of Langridge, Miss Harrison, and the newspaper clipping. Hang it all!

girls can sure mix things up when they want to, can't they?"

"Yes, but it isn't her fault. She merely doesn't care for a fellow that gambles, and Sid can't say that he doesn't."

"I don't believe Sid gambles," said Tom quickly. "I was going to add,"

he went on, "that I'd 'gamble' on that. After the way he acted with Langridge last night, almost coming to a fight, I think there is something more in this than we've thought of."

"Probably there is; but why doesn't Sid come out and say he wasn't in the raid, and clear himself? It ought to be easy enough to do, but he doesn't do it."

"I know; and yet he may have a reason."

"Very likely. But things look suspicious. Mind you, I don't say to us, for I'd stick to Sid, no matter what he did. But there's the fact of him suddenly being broke, being out late several times, going off after getting mysterious notes, and coming in smelling strongly of tobacco. It looks bad, and I don't see why Sid doesn't own up and confess, or else clear himself."

"Maybe he can't. But that's neither here nor there. I'm glad he and Langridge didn't fight. Now we're going out of town to play Wescott, and maybe get beaten, for they have a fine nine. But, anyhow, it will do Sid good. He may come back entirely different."

"Let's hope so, for there's no fun living with him, as he is now. I was glad when he got so infatuated with Miss Harrison, even going to the length of taking up hammered bra.s.s work because she had a fad that way.

But since she turned him down poor Sid chucked all his bra.s.s stuff out of the window the other day. Well, maybe it will come out all right."

"It's got to," declared Tom fiercely. "Well, I'm going down to see Kerr and Leighton, to learn if everything's all ready for the trip."

The next day the team started for Wescott University, accompanied by as many of the students as could cut their lectures. It was a day's trip to the big college, one day would be devoted to the game, which was an annual affair, and the return trip would be made the third day.

The Randallites were accorded an enthusiastic welcome as they were escorted to their hotel by the Wescott lads.

"Remember how sick I was when we were here last year to play 'em football?" asked Phil, as he and his chums went to their rooms.

"I sure do. Please don't repeat the experience. We want to beat these fellows if we can."

The morning of the game did not prove very auspicious, as it had rained in the night, and was still threatening. But when the two nines went out to the diamond the sun broke through the clouds and it cleared off.

"Now, fellows," said Coach Leighton, as he gathered the captain and his men about him, "you've got to play fast, snappy ball to win. We're up against a better team than either Boxer Hall or Fairview, and I want to see what you can do."

"If they don't do what's right they'll answer to me," said Tom, with a grim smile.

"And if you fellows lose you'll have to walk home," added Manager Kerr.

"Sure, then we'll not allow 'em a hit," prophesied Bricktop Molloy.

"We'll whitewash 'em," added Dutch Housenlager, as he tried to trip up Joe Jackson, but failed.

It was a fast, snappy game from the very start, Tom doing some superb work in the box, but being fully matched by Marshall, the Wescott twirler, who was "a southpaw," or left hander.

"He certainly's hard to hit," conceded Holly Cross, when the Randallites came to bat in the fifth inning, with never a run scored, while Wescott had two, one each having been garnered in the second and third innings.

"We ought to have some left-handed batters to sort of fool him,"

remarked Tom.

"I can bat left handed," said Sid, who had been unusually quiet during the trip and the game.

"Get out! Then it's something new!" exclaimed Mr. Leighton.

"Yes," admitted Sid, "and yet it isn't either. I used to bat left handed before I came to Randall, but I gave it up. I've been practicing it on the quiet, lately, and if you like I'll try it now."

"It's risky," objected Tom. "Wait until we see what we can do this inning."

But they couldn't do anything, and after three men had gone down, one after the other, under the scientific twirling of Marshall, Mr.

Leighton, Kerr and Tom, after a consultation decided to let Sid try, as he was to bat first in the next round.

Wescott managed to get two more runs, as the players were "finding" Tom, and things began to look black for the visiting team.

"See if you can't rap out a home run," begged the captain, as Sid went to the plate in the sixth. There was manifest surprise when he took the left-handed position, and Marshall and Bradshaw, the latter being the Wescott catcher, held a whispered consultation.

Whatever line of play they decided on availed them nothing, however, for Sid caught a "beaut" on the end of his bat, selecting the first ball pitched, and he sent it away over in the right field bleachers, easily making a three-bagger of it. He could have come on home, except for ground rules, which allowed only three bases on a ball that went among the spectators, of whom there was an enormous crowd present, almost up to the base lines.

"Good!" delightedly cried the Randall supporters, and the record was soon bettered for Holly Cross came up next, and, though he batted right handed, he managed to whale out a two-bagger, which brought in Sid and made the first tally for the visitors. That gave them confidence and they made three runs that inning, coming within one of tying the score.

Tom, too, seemed to stiffen in his work, and he struck out three men in quick succession.

"Now if we can only do as well this inning," remarked the coach, as Dutch Housenlager came up. Dutch knocked a pretty fly, and was off like the wind to first. He never would have reached it, but for an error on the part of the right fielder who m.u.f.fed the ball, amid the groans of his fellows. Then, for a time, the Wescott team seemed to go to pieces, until, when the eighth inning opened, the score was tied.

Goose eggs were chalked up in the frames of both teams in the eighth, however, the pitchers both working hard. Then came Randall's chance at the bat in the ninth.

"One run will beat 'em, if we can only hold 'em down when they come up,"

muttered Kerr to Tom.

"I'll do my part," the nervy pitcher a.s.sured him.

It fell to Sid again, to do the trick. There were two men out, when he came up, and it looked hopeless, but he again batted left handed, and once more caught a "beaut" on the end of his bat. He got two bases on it, and, by great good luck Holly Cross, next player, whaled out what proved to be a triple, and Sid, as soon as he heard the crack of the ball, started home.

As he swung around toward third base the player there perhaps unintentionally got in his way. The baseman pretended that the ball was being fielded to him, in his endeavor to throw Sid out of his calculations, but the nervy Randall second baseman kept on. There was a collision between him and the man covering the bag, and, for an instant, Sid hesitated on third, and almost fell over, seizing his left foot in both hands, and hopping about.

"Sid's spiked!" cried Tom. "The third baseman spiked him, just as he had a chance to score! Come on in, Sid. Come on in!" yelled the captain frantically.

There was a confusing chorus of yells, so much so that the fielder after the ball, which had gone past him, did not know what to do, after he had the horsehide. But by this time Sid was limping toward home, running fairly well, but with a look of agony on his face. Holly Cross was racing from second now.

"Home with that ball, you loon!" yelled the Wescott catcher, who saw Sid coming, for the Wescott fielder was stupidly holding it.