Ralph winced. He realized that there would be a general commotion when he told the rest of the club what he was now vaguely intimating to Ned Talcott.
Ralph did not flatter himself a particle when he comprehended that every member of the nine was his friend, champion and admirer, and that a general protest would go up from the ranks when he announced his intentions.
"Is it a bargain?" he asked, smiling quizzically at Ned's puzzled face. "See here, I'd better out with it. I shan't need the uniform, Ned, because I've got to resign from the club."
"Oh, never!" vociferated Ned, starting back in dismay. "Say, now----"
"Yes, say that again, Ralph Fairbanks!" broke in a challenging voice.
Ralph was shaken a trifle by the unexpected interruption. His lips set even a little firmer, however, as he turned and faced his trusty first baseman, Will Cheever, and in his train four other members of the club.
"It's true," said Ralph seriously, "just as it is sudden and sure. I've got to drop athletics as a sport, fellows--for a time, anyhow--and I've got to do it right away."
"You're dreaming!" scoffed Cheever, bustling up in his inimitable, push-ahead way, and pulling Ralph playfully about. "Resign? Huh! On the last test game--with the pennant almost ours? Gag him!"
"Why," drawled a tone of pathetic alarm, "it would be rank treachery, you know!"
"Hello, are you awake?" jeered Will, turning on the last speaker.