Chapter XXVI: Tom Stops a Hot One

There was much excitement of a quiet sort when it was known what stand Bascome had taken. He was roundly condemned by the sophomores, juniors and seniors, and even by a number of the freshmen students. But Bascome remained firm, and he carried the class with him. Only a few freshmen put their names down on the petition, and they resigned from the exclusive freshman society to be able to do so.

For there was, that year in Randall, a somewhat bitter feeling on the part of the whole freshman class against the sophomores, on account of some severe hazing in the fall. It had created trouble, had engendered a sense of injury, and there was lacking a proper spirit in the college.

This had its effect, and the freshmen were almost a unit against the nine, which (and this was perhaps unusual) happened to be composed mainly of sophomores that season.

"What do you think of the dirty sneak?" asked Tom of Phil, to whom he narrated the refusal of Bascome.

"Think of it? I'd be ashamed to properly express myself, Tom. It's rotten, that's what it is. But I guess we've got enough names as it is."

"Hope so, anyhow. I'm going to send it in, at any rate."

The petition was duly delivered to Dr. Churchill, and a faculty meeting was called. A unanimous vote of the corps of instructors was needed to reinstate a student suspended from athletics for a violation of the rules, such as Sid had been accused of, this being one of the fundamental laws of the college since its inception. Now the absence of the names of the majority of the freshman class tended to operate against the petition being accorded an unprejudiced hearing, but what did more to keep Sid out was the vote of Professor Tines.

The latter could not get over the destruction of his silk hat, though a new one had been purchased for him, and when the final vote was taken he barred Sid from getting back on the nine.

"I have reason to believe that Mr. Henderson is inclined to too much horse-play," he said, "as indicated by what he did to my hat. Again, if he were a popular student the freshmen would have joined in the request. They did not, as a class, and so I am constrained to vote as I do."

None of the faculty--even Professor Tines--knew the real reason why the freshmen names were not down, and no one cared about mentioning it, for it was not a thing for students to discuss with the teachers. Mr. Leighton did his best, in a delicate way, but it was of no use. The petition failed, and not a few members of the faculty were deeply grieved, for they wanted to see a championship nine in Randall. Still they would not argue with Professor Tines.

And the chances of Randall winning the championship and the loving cup seemed to be diminishing from day to day, in spite of the strenuous efforts of Tom, Ed Kerr and Mr. Leighton. There was something lacking. No one could just say what it was, but there was a spirit of uncertainty, and a sense of worriment in the nine, that did not operate for perfect team work.

Tom threatened and pleaded by turns, but his words had little effect. The men showed up well in practice, and played a fast and snappy game with the scrub, but when it came to going out on the diamond there was a lack of batting ability and an absence of team work, that had a bad effect, and several games were won only by narrow margins, while some, that should have been won, were lost.

"We play Boxer Hall, Saturday," observed Tom, in his room with Phil and Sid one evening. "I wonder how we'll make out."

"It isn't the last game, is it?" inquired Sid.

"No, there's one more, and another with Fairview. But I'm not worrying much about the co-eds. It's Boxer that has me guessing. Oh, Sid, but I wish you were with us."

"So do I," and Sid turned his face aside.

"Can't you get back?" asked Phil. "Can't you go to Dr. Churchill, and explain--about that bottle of liquor--you know."

"No," answered Sid gently, "I can't."

"The nine may lose," declared Tom.

"I'm--I'm just as sorry as you are, Tom," said the second baseman earnestly, "but it's out of the question. I can't explain--just yet."

"Can you ever?" demanded Phil eagerly.

"Perhaps--soon now. I am hoping every day."

"Have you given a--a sort of promise--to some one?" asked Tom gently.

"Yes," replied Sid in a low voice. "It's a promise, and a great deal depends on it--even more than the championship of Randall college." And that was all Sid would say for the time being.

The game with Boxer Hall was a hard one. Tom and his men had to work for everything they got, for Langridge seemed to have improved in his pitching, and the fielding of Randall's enemy was a thing to rejoice the heart of her captain and coach.

The game ran along to the seventh inning with some sensational plays, and the score was 6 to 4 in favor of Boxer. Then Langridge grew a bit wild, and issued several passes until the bases were full, when a three bagger which Holly Cross knocked brought in three runs, and put Randall one ahead. There was wild delight then, and as none were out it looked as if Randall would be good for at least two more runs. But Langridge got control of the ball, and struck out three men, and the next inning Boxer put in a new pitcher--a semi-professional it was whispered, though Tom and his fellows decided to take no notice of the talk.

Then began a desperate effort on the part of Boxer Hall to get in two more runs in the remaining two innings. They adopted unfair tactics, and several times the umpire warned the men on the coaching line that they were violating the rules.

Tom managed to stiffen his work in the eighth, and, though two men got walking papers, no runs came in, for the next three batters went down and out under the influence of Tom's curves. But that inning saw no runs for Randall, either, and when her men came in for their last chance Tom pleaded with them to get at least one more to clinch the victory that was held by such a narrow margin. It was not to be, however, and a zero went up in the Randall space on the score board.

The score was 7 to 6, in favor of Randall, when Boxer Hall came up for the ending of the ninth inning.

"If we can only hold 'em there," thought Tom wearily, for his arm ached. Still he would not give up, though Rod Evert was anxious to fill the box.

Tom struck out the first man, gave the next one a pass, and was hit for a single by the third batter. Then the Randall captain knew he must work hard to win. He struck out the next batter, and as Dave Ogden, who followed, was a notoriously hard hitter, Tom was worried. A three bagger, which was Ogden's specialty, would bring in two runs, and win the game for Boxer.

Dutch signalled for a drop, but Tom gave the negative sign, and indicated that he would pitch an out. As the ball left his fingers he was aware that it had slipped and that Ogden would hit it.

He did. There was a resounding "whack" and the ball, a hot liner, came straight for Tom. The Boxer Hall crowd set up a yell, thinking their man had made good, and that two runs, at least, would come in. For no one expected to see Tom stop the ball.

But he did. It was well over his head, and passing him on the right side. He leaped into the air, and with his bare hand caught the horsehide. The impact on his unprotected palm was terrific, and he was at once aware that he had split the skin. But though a pain, like a red hot iron, shot down his arm, he held on.

"Batter's out!" cried the umpire. Then, amid the wild and frenzied shouting of his chums, Tom dropped the ball, and walked in, his arm hanging limply by his side, while Dutch and Mr. Leighton ran anxiously toward him.

But what did Tom Parsons care for an injured hand? He had saved Randall from defeat, for that ended Boxer's chances, two men died on bases, and the game was over, the score being 7 to 6 in Randall's favor.