Batting to Win Part 21

"I suppose he's gone off to get some more pictures," said Madge, with a nervous little laugh. "Come on, Ruth, we mustn't let Mabel go back there all alone. After all, I don't believe we want to go sit in the shade.

Isn't dinner almost ready? I'm nearly famished, boys."

"Yes, bring on the b.u.t.ter, ants and all," added Ruth.

"All right, just as you say," responded Phil, with a quick look at Tom, who rather avoided the glance, for he was sorely puzzled. "I dare say grub is ready. We'll dine beneath the greenwood tree, from whence all care shall banished be."

"Bravo!" cried Miss Tyler. "You never told me your brother was a poet, Ruth."

"He doesn't know it himself," commented his sister dryly. "Oh, there's Mabel. Wait!" she called, and the girl in advance turned. There was a troubled look in her blue eyes, but otherwise she was calm.

"Isn't it perfectly charming in the woods," she remarked. "I wish Fairview College was nearer the lake."

"Oh, we'll come over and get you, any time you want to come," said Tom quickly.

"Thank you," responded Miss Harrison, with a grateful look at him. She seemed to have recovered control of herself, but there was a pathetic air about her, which did not vanish.

Luncheon was a gay affair, as Tom and Phil felt that it was their duty to make up, in a measure, for the strange action of Sid, in going off in company with a flas.h.i.+ly-dressed youth who had practically insulted his chums' companions.

In the afternoon there was a period of idling beneath the trees, walks along shady and moss-grown paths, and trips about the lake in boats, until the declining sun warned the merry-makers that it was time to depart. Phil and Tom took the three girls to Fairview, but they had no further sight of Sid that afternoon, nor was any mention made of him, though Tom rather hoped the girls would say something that would enable him to defend his chum.

For, somehow, in spite of it all, Tom felt that there was something he didn't understand in relation to Sid. He was puzzled over it, grieved deeply, too, yet he could not condemn Sid.

But no mention was made of the little incident of the morning, and the two youths left, promising to come over again at the first opportunity.

"It was awfully kind of you to bother with me," said Miss Harrison, as she shook hands with Phil and Tom. "I was rather in the way, I'm afraid, and I realize----"

"Why, Mabel, what a way to talk!" interrupted Ruth. "If they hadn't taken you with us, we wouldn't have gone with them; would we, Madge?"

"Of course not."

"It's awfully kind of you," went on Mabel, as she turned into the college, leaving Phil and Tom to say good-by to their friends.

"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Phil, when he and Tom were on their way back to Randall.

"Hanged if I know what to say. Who was that sporty chap, anyhow?"

"Search me. He seemed to take a good deal for granted. The puppy! I felt like punching him one, the way he leered at the girls."

"So did I. Would have, too, only for Sid. He seemed to be friendly with the flashy chap."

"Yes, and that's the funny part of it. He seemed somehow to have Sid under a spell."

"It's just another phase of the mystery that seems to have been enveloping poor old Sid, of late," went on Tom. "I only hope one thing, and that is, that whatever it is that it doesn't interfere with baseball. We've got to depend a lot on Sid this season, as the other fellows aren't batting as I hoped they would, and this includes myself, but I never was much as a hitter. I never could get above two sixty-eight, but Sid won't have any trouble getting to four hundred, and he can bat both ways, placing a ball in either right or left field. But if this thing is going to keep up," and Tom shook his head dolefully, "I don't know what to do."

"Losing that game to Fairview didn't do our standing any good," remarked Phil.

"I should say not! But we play Dodville Prep school Sat.u.r.day, and they're easy fruit."

"That will help pull our average up some," admitted Phil.

They made the rest of the trip back to Randall almost in silence, Tom making an occasional remark about baseball, and Phil replying, but the thoughts of both were more on the events of the day than on the great game.

Sid was not in the room when Phil and Tom entered. The latter took off his cherished blue tie, and placed it carefully away, probably in a place he would forget the next time he wanted it, while Phil made a point of sticking his garnet sleeve links in a box that contained everything from fish hooks to waxed ends for sewing ripped baseball covers.

"Well, I'm glad to-day's over," remarked Tom, as he threw himself in the old armchair, with a sigh of relief, "but it was lots of fun while it lasted. Still I didn't exactly know what to do when that fellow showed up."

"Same here, yet the girls got through all right. Trust them for a thing like that? Girls are queer creatures, anyhow."

"You laughed at me when I said that last term," remarked Tom, as Phil stretched out on the ancient sofa, raising a cloud of dust. "Well, to-day is done. I wonder what will happen to-morrow?"

"Same old grind. I've got to brush up a bit if I want to pa.s.s with honors. Guess I'll do some boning to-night."

"Yes, and I've got to arrange for some more baseball practice," went on Tom. "I wonder where Sid is? I didn't like the looks of that chap. And did you hear what he said about playing poker?"

"Yes, I'm afraid Sid's in bad, in spite of what he says."

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the ticking of the alarm clock. Then Tom resumed:

"I wish we could help him. If he's got in with a bad crowd we ought to help save him. Poor old Sid, I wish----"

At that moment the door opened, and the chum whose troubles they were discussing walked in. He had heard what Tom had said, and a dull red flushed up under his brown skin.

"Were you fellows talking about me?" he asked hotly.

"We were just saying," began Phil, "that we couldn't----"

"I wish you fellows would mind your own business!" blurted out Sid. "I guess I can look after myself!" and he crossed the room and gazed moodily out of a window, into the darkness of the night, while the tick of the fussy little alarm clock seemed to echo and re-echo through the apartment.

CHAPTER XV

AN UNEXPECTED DEFENSE

There wasn't much said in the room of the chums after Sid had "gone off the handle," as Tom expressed it later. In fact there was not much that could be said. Phil shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Tom in a significant manner, and the captain of the nine shook his head discouragedly. Matters were getting worse, he thought, and he began to fear for the effect of Sid's trouble on the second baseman's ability as a player. But what could be done?

Though he did not refer to the scene of the previous evening, when he greeted his chums next morning, Sid, by his manner showed that he realized it. There was a tender gruffness in his words and actions, and he seemed so contrite, and so anxious to make amends that Phil and Tom did not have it in their hearts to stand out against him.

"A fine day for practice," observed Tom, as he sprang out of bed, at the first summons of the alarm clock.

"Caesar's battle-axe! What's going to happen?" demanded Phil, lazily turning over. "You're up, Tom."

"Sure. I'm behind in my psychology work, and I've got to attend a stiff lecture this morning and stand for a quizz afterward. I'm afraid I'll slump."

"I'll help you," came unexpectedly from Sid. "I've been all over that stuff, and I know what Pitchfork will try to stick you on. Get something on, and I'll help you bone."

This was unexpected on Sid's part, but Tom was none the less grateful, and soon the two were delving deep into problems of mind and matter, while Phil protested that it was against all rules, and that he wanted to sleep.