Just then there was a knock, and Mason stood outside the door. He came in at Merry’s invitation, looking blue as a whetstone. Without glancing at Hodge, he began:
“Mr. Merriwell, sah, I judge you’ve made a mighty big mistake in me. You thought I could play ball, but by this time, sah, you must be pretty well satisfied that I’m a first-class flub. I have come, sah, to give notice that I do not propose to make a jackass of myself any more. I am done, sah. As long as I live and have my right mind I’ll play no more baseball.”
A feeling of satisfaction seized upon Hodge, who thought:
“The fellow has more sense than I imagined.”
Frank looked at Mason calmly and steadily, something like deep indignation showing in his face.
“And is this the way you propose to treat me?” he sternly demanded. “I did think, Mason, that you were my friend.”
Hock gasped.
“I am, sah!” he cried quickly. “That’s why I’m taking myself off the nine. You don’t know what they’re saying, Mr. Merriwell. They say you took me on because you regarded me as a friend, and that it was a mighty bad piece of judgment on your part, sah. They say I must get off or ruin the team.”
“And you propose to leave me in the lurch just because some fellows have been making that kind of talk! I didn’t think it of you, Mason—I swear I didn’t!”