The question of whether there was to be a game or not was long debated that morning by the Custer School authorities. The fire had created no end of excitement at the school and in the village. And when the news of the burning of the fine old school building got abroad by means of the newspaper telegraph system anxious parents from all corners of the country began to telephone and telegraph concerning the safety of their boys.
It was long after daylight before the firemen got control of the fire and finally put it out, and when the last of them had gone back to their stations the gaunt, smoking ruins of one wing of the building stood out against the green spring verdure of the campus, stark and grimly fire-blackened.
There was a tremendous feeling of unrest among the students, too, for all of them had been aroused from their beds at an early hour that morning and of course none of them had returned to catch up on their sleep. Under such conditions the school authorities were not certain whether to attempt to play the scheduled baseball game or not.
At eleven o’clock that morning a conference was called in the administration building by Headmaster Dr. Shwagert, of Custer School. Coach Rice and Mr. Clarkson, and the Pennington captain, Tad Sloan, were included, with the two coaches of the Custer School team, Roy Milliken, and several of the school department heads. And at this conference the advisability of playing the game was carefully talked over. The conclusion was, however, that the students needed something to take their minds off the catastrophe of the night and announcement was made that the game would go on.
The announcement was greeted with enthusiasm by the students and the players of both teams as well, for all of the boys were as eager for the contest as they had been before the fire. To be sure, most of the Pennington boys, including Jeff, had lost their baseball togs and some of their equipment in the flames, but an hour’s rummaging in the gymnasium of the Custer School brought to light enough available equipment and cast-off uniforms to fit out the players who had lost their things, and by noon time everything was ready for the contest.
The game was arranged for two-thirty, as it had been originally scheduled, and of course the entire student body of the East Hampton school turned out and lined the field. Even the mascot, Spike, was brought out from his resting place in the basement of the gym. and taken to the Custer School’s bench, where, swathed in bandages, he was propped up on several gay pillows requisitioned from some of the boys’ rooms, and despite his suffering he evidently enjoyed the attentions showed to him, because he made a valiant effort to wag his stump of a tail every time any of the boys approached him. And he seemed especially grateful to Jeff, for when the third baseman went over to give him an affectionate pat the dog licked his hand by way of thanking him for his rescue.
But as a contest the game was far from a success. Indeed it was a very poor exhibition of baseball on the part of both teams, for when the boys got out on the field they realized soon enough that the excitement, keyed-up nerves, and loss of sleep had left them in far from fit condition to do their best as athletes.
Coach Rice approached Jeff just before the game was called and taking him aside spoke to him in a very fatherly fashion.
“Look here, Thatcher, I planned to start you at third to-day, as I told you. But you had a rather trying experience last night which must have taken a hard toll of your physical resources. I am inclined to keep you on the bench to-day and let Gould play. You may need a rest more than you need the physical exertion of playing the game. How do you feel, boy?”
Jeff’s disappointment was evident instantly.