Chester, however, kept by himself a great deal of the time, and the days slipped by without the expected encounter taking place.
Dick took little part in practice during the week, although he was on the baseball ground every day and saw that the team put in the proper work and was given needed coaching.
As Saturday grew near the apprehension of the cadets over the result of the game with Rivermouth increased. There were all sorts of rumors about the great improvement of the Rivermouth team, which was said to be superior to anything the place had turned out in many seasons.
Brad’s statement concerning Dick’s lame side was also accepted as a fact by the great mass of cadets. With Dick out of condition to pitch, it seemed that Rivermouth would have an easy thing.
“I am sorry you said anything about my side, old man,” declared Dick one day. “It was a mistake. I told you to keep still.”
“Pard,” cried the Texan, “I couldn’t do it—I just couldn’t keep my face closed and hear what they were saying. I had to spit her out.”
“And the result has been the very thing I feared. The boys have lost confidence. They are afraid of Rivermouth.”
“I am plumb sorry, partner. I reckon you’re right. I am tired of answering questions about your side.”
“Yes; they all want to know about it. Even Professor Gunn has heard about it and made inquiries.”
“We will never have any peace in this yere school until Arlington gets out,” averred the Westerner. “I have it pretty straight that he has been telling some rotten things about you lately. Just what he has told I don’t know, but I am going to find out if I can.”