SPOUTER IS CORNERED
“Hurrah for Longley!”
“That’s the way to do it! That makes the score eight to four!”
“My, what a muff that was! That center fielder is a regular butter-fingers!”
“Soak it to ’em good and plenty, Longley! Only two men out!”
Thus the hubbub on the part of the students of Longley Academy continued while the cadets of Colby Hall had little to say. There were one or two cries to take Halliday out of the field, but these were quickly hushed.
“Anybody might muff a ball,” declared Jack. “It’s too bad, but probably it couldn’t be helped.”
The very next player to the bat knocked a liner between first and second and got to second on a fumble by the first baseman. Then the next player, after having two strikes called on him, sent a low one down to center field.
“Go for it, Halliday! Get it!” yelled the cadets eagerly.
Halliday ran for the ball, but was only able to get it on the first bounce. Then, as he saw the batsman rounding first for second, he threw the ball wildly.
“Run, Newcomb, run!”
“There goes the ball for the grandstand! Hurry up, Markle, and make it a homer!”
The ball had sailed over the head of the runner and landed at least ten feet away from the home plate. The catcher made a dive for it while the pitcher came to the plate to stop the runners. But it was too late, and before the sphere could be sent in both runs had been scored.
“Zip! Boom! Two more runs for Longley!”
“That’s the way to do it, boys! Let’s snow ’em under!”
“Take Halliday out!” was the angry cry of fully a dozen cadets. “Take him out! He has no business on the team!”
And thereupon amid shouts of derision Paul Halliday was compelled to quit the field and one of the substitutes went to take his place.
“It wasn’t my fault! I stepped in a hole,” growled Halliday when he came to the bench. He made a show of limping badly. “I almost sprained my ankle.”
“Well, your two errors have been very costly,” answered Gif coldly.
After that the pitcher for Colby Hall tightened up, and the next man up was put out on strikes and the side retired.
With the score 10 to 4 against them, Colby Hall did what it could to redeem itself during the last inning. They made one run, followed by two outs and two hits which brought a man on first and another on third. Then Brassy Bangs came to the bat.
“Now, Brassy, here’s your chance!”
“Knock it over the back lots!”
Brassy set his teeth and swung the bat with a do-or-dare expression. Then the first ball pitched came in an outcurve which he swung at in vain.
“Take your time!” called out Gif.
The next was an incurve, but Brassy swung at it and missed again.
“Strike two!”
“Hit it, Brassy! Hit it!”
“Knock the cover off!”
“Take your time! Wait until you get just what you want!”
And thereupon Brassy Bangs did wait—until he had three strikes called upon him and was declared out.
“And the score is ten to five in favor of Longley Academy!”
“Hurrah! That’s the time we showed Colby Hall what we can do!”
The Longley Academy boys went wild in their enthusiasm and danced around the field like so many Indians. And they had good cause to be elated, for they remembered only too well the drubbing they had gotten at the hands of Colby Hall the season before when Jack and Fred had made such records for themselves.
The Colby Hall cadets could say nothing against the record made by the Longley nine. They had put up a stiff fight from the start and deserved their laurels.
“Our defeat was largely due to Halliday and Bangs,” declared Spouter. “Between them they let in at least five runs.”
“That’s exactly the truth,” answered Dan Soppinger. “If I were Gif I’d read the riot act to those two players.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’d be too hard on them,” came from Jack. “Anybody might have muffed that ball down in center field, and any of us might have struck out as Brassy did.”
“But both of them made several other errors,” put in Walt Baxter.
On the way back to Colby Hall the students were free in their comments on the game, and there were many uncomplimentary things said about Brassy and Halliday. Those two players tried to excuse themselves as best they could; but a baseball player who has not made good seldom gets any sympathy.
“I’ll give you both another chance in the game with Hixley High,” said Gif at last, in talking the matter over with the two players. “But if you make a single error it will cost you your positions.”
The game with Hixley High came off on the following Saturday and was won by the narrow score of 7 to 6. In the second inning Halliday made another wild throw from center to second, and Brassy Bangs made a bad fumble in the fourth inning, and as a consequence both were retired and substitutes put in their places.
“It was certainly a narrow squeak,” declared Fred, when the game was over and the boys were preparing to celebrate that evening. “I believe if Gif had kept Brassy and Halliday on the team we would have lost.”
“Well, we may lose some other games even so,” said Jack. And he was right. Out of a total of seven games played with the other schools of that vicinity that season Colby Hall won but four.
“Well, we can’t win every year,” declared Randy. “And we’re half a game to the good anyway, and that’s something.”
“It’s certainly better than being half a game behind,” answered his twin.
While these matters were going on Colonel Colby and Captain Dale had been doing everything possible with the aid of the local police, and also a private detective who had been called in, to solve the mystery concerning the robbery at the school. But all efforts seemed to be in vain. Not a trace of the person or persons who had committed the crime could be found. It was a great mystery.
“I think I’ll have to settle with all of the boys and with Professor Duke,” said Colonel Colby to his head assistant. “And there I suppose the matter will have to be dropped.”
Later on he took up the various claims and paid each one of them in cash.
“I am very thankful to you for this, Colonel Colby,” declared Snopper Duke, when he received his money. “It will come in quite handy, I assure you. And yet I am much distressed over that watch which once belonged to my grandfather.”
“Well, I hope it is brought to light some day, Professor,” answered the master of the Hall. “And if it is then you can pay me back for it,” and he smiled faintly.
In those days a number of the cadets noticed that Snopper Duke seemed to be much preoccupied. He paid hardly any attention to what his pupils were doing and was so absent-minded that often he answered the simplest questions in the most ridiculous manner.
“He’s certainly got something on his mind,” was Fred’s comment. “I must say I’d like to know what it can be.”
“Maybe we’ll never know,” answered Jack. “But because of what Colonel Colby said I’m certainly going to be careful how I treat him. He may have more of a load on his mind and heart than any of us imagine.”
It now lacked but ten days to the end of the term, and the boys were busy finishing up with the examinations in the various classes and also in writing the final essays to be handed in. All had worked hard to make a showing.
“Just think! Only ten days more!” exclaimed Andy, throwing a grammar across his room at Randy. “Doesn’t it make you feel fine?”
“It sure does!” answered his twin, catching the book and sending it back so quickly that his brother was hit in the stomach. “And that puts me in mind, Andy. Why not get at Spouter and make him tell us what he’s got in mind about our vacation this summer?”
“Let’s do it! Come on! We’ll get Fred and Jack and Gif and go and pound it out of him.”
All alive with their scheme, the twins burst in upon the other Rovers while they were busy writing their essays and broached the subject. The others agreed, and Fred ran off to get Gif. Then the whole crowd rounded up Spouter, and grabbing him by the arms fairly forced him along the corridor and into the Rover boys’ sitting room.
“Now, Spouter, you’ve got to tell us!” declared Randy. “No more secrets!”
“Oh, gee! Is that it?” was Spouter’s reply. “I thought you wanted to borrow a nickel from me, or something like that,” and he smiled feebly.
“Come on now, Spouter! Give it to us straight,” demanded Fred.
“No more sawing and fiddling,” put in Andy. “We want straight goods. Where are we going this summer?”
“You’re going with me,” answered Spouter, with a grin.
“So you’ve told us about three thousand times. But where are we going?”
“You’re going home first.”
“Pound him, fellows, pound him! Throw him down and pound him good!” and thereupon the whole crowd pounced upon the luckless schemer.
“Hold on! Hold on! Let me up!” spluttered Spouter. “Let me up, and I’ll tell you everything!”
“Honest?” demanded Andy. “If you fool us this time we’ll drag you to the bathroom and duck you.”
“Cross my heart!” panted Spouter. “Now let me up!”
The others allowed him to arise and then forced him into an easy chair in the corner and all stood over him menacingly.
“You are going to spend your vacation at a new place which was purchased by my dad only a few months ago,” answered Spouter.
“And what place is that?” came in a chorus from his chums.
“Big Horn Ranch.”