The Lucky Seventh Part 18

"Of course you were," agreed Gordon soothingly. "He knows it, but he's scared of the bunch. Never mind, it's all in the day's work, Jack."

"I tell you I was safe!" sputtered Jack. "What do you want to quit for?

Why don't you make them play it out?"

"No good, Jack. Shut up and change your things. We've got to hustle for the train."

Just then the Lesterville captain walked up to Gordon. "Say," he said, "we'll play you fellows again some time if you like. You put up a good game, all right, Merrick."

"Thanks, I dare say we can get together again," replied Gordon not overly enthusiastic. "I'll let you know."

"Next time we'll have a decent umpire," cried Jack, pausing on his way to the dressing shed. "That man's a thief!"

"Aw, don't be a baby," growled the opposing captain. "You were out all right enough. I saw the play, didn't I?"

"I don't care whether you did or not. I was perfectly safe. I crossed the plate before the ball ever got to him!"

"What if you did, kid? You didn't touch it. That ump is all right. The trouble is you can't take a beating. Chase yourself."

Jack was fighting mad then and pushed his way back, but Gordon and some of the others seized him, while the stragglers from the audience cl.u.s.tered around, eager for trouble.

"Jack, you get out of here," directed d.i.c.k sternly.

"Like fun I will! That big chump can't tell me--"

"Just one more word and you'll be suspended!" d.i.c.k spoke very quietly.

Jack stared open-mouthed, his gaze traveling from the derisive face of the Lesterville captain to the stern countenance of the Clearfield manager. Gordon and Lanny still held him firmly. He swallowed hard, rewarded d.i.c.k with a baleful glare and said:

"Go ahead and suspend! You're a peach of a manager, anyhow, to stand around and let those robbers swipe the game on us! You--"

But Gordon and Lanny hustled him promptly through the throng at that, the crowd dissolved and the field emptied. In spite of Jack's protest the game was recorded: Lesterville, 11; Clearfield, 7.

CHAPTER XIII

JACK IS SUSPENDED

They talked it over on the way back in the train and the consensus of Clearfield opinion was that, taking into consideration the indisputable fact that the umpire had been against them all through the game, the final score was nothing to be ashamed of. Only Jack failed to subscribe with any enthusiasm to that verdict. Jack frankly sulked.

d.i.c.k called Gordon over to his seat after the discussion had waned and the fellows had quieted down. "Who," he asked, moving his crutches to make room for Gordon, "can we get to take Jack's place?"

"To take Jack's place?" exclaimed Gordon. "Why, what's the matter with Jack?"

"I thought you understood that he was suspended," replied d.i.c.k calmly.

"I certainly gave him a fair warning."

"But-but-" blurted Gordon in bewilderment, "you can't do that!"

"Why not?"

Gordon stared. Finally, "Are you in earnest?" he asked.

"Of course. I'm manager of this team. And while I'm manager the fellows have got to behave. Jack was all wrong. He had no business talking like that. In the first place, it wasn't up to him to protest the decision.

In the next place he might have got us into a nasty row with those toughs over there. They were dying for a sc.r.a.p all along. If they had started anything we'd have got pretty well mussed up, Gordie."

Gordon nodded. "I know," he said gloomily, "but-Jack was excited, d.i.c.k.

And it _was_ a robbery. You can't blame him for getting a bit hot about it."

"I don't. I blame him for showing it, or, at least, proclaiming it. If I'm manager, I'm going to manage. If I can't manage, I'm not manager.

Which is it?"

"Why, you're manager, of course, d.i.c.k. But-Jack won't like being suspended. In fact, he will probably get mad and quit altogether."

"I don't think so," replied d.i.c.k. "But that's his look-out. He's suspended for a week-if I'm manager."

"All right," muttered Gordon. "Of course, you realize that leaves us in a hole next Sat.u.r.day, d.i.c.k. Jack's one of our best players, and I don't know where we'll find anyone to take his place."

"Neither do I yet. But we've got a whole week to find someone. He'd be suspended, though, if he was the last player on the team."

"Are you going to tell him?" asked Gordon uneasily. d.i.c.k smiled.

"Evidently you don't care to?"

"I surely don't."

"Yes, I'll tell him. He ought to know it, though, because I usually mean what I say. You needn't mention it to anyone to-day. I'll have a talk with him to-morrow, maybe."

"He'll quit flat-footed," mourned Gordon. d.i.c.k smiled again.

"I don't believe so. I think I know Jack a little better than you do, Gordie."

The next afternoon, an hour or so after dinner, d.i.c.k called Gordon on the telephone. "Can you come around here for a few minutes?" he asked.

"Yes, I was just starting, d.i.c.k. Anything up?"

"Not much. I wanted to talk to you about a chap for Jack's place."

"Oh! You-you haven't changed your mind about that, then?"

"No." d.i.c.k's voice sounded amused.

"Well--" Gordon frowned at the telephone instrument. "I'll be over right away, d.i.c.k."

d.i.c.k was on the porch, in spite of the fact that it was raining briskly, and his sister, Grace, was with him. Grace was thirteen and a very pretty girl, with dark hair and eyes. She was enveloped in a long ap.r.o.n and had her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and explained to Gordon that she was in the middle of was.h.i.+ng up the dinner dishes.

"d.i.c.k called me out to read me a perfectly ridiculous story in the paper," she laughed. "Read to Gordon, d.i.c.k, and see if he thinks it funny."