“He doesn’t have a ghost of a show if Richards can do again what he did to-day,—strike out the three heaviest hitters on the nine,” laughed Ned.
“Yes, and strike out each of them twice in succession,” added Walter.
“Good work, old man!” said Hodge affectionately patting Dan on the shoulder. “We’ll leave you here. Look out for Gus. If he meets you alone some dark night he may pitch into you.”
“Hello, Carlton,” said Dan, as he and his roommate were about to enter their hall. “What’s wrong?” The little fellow’s face was pale and it was manifest that he had been crying.
“Somebody poured water in my bed,” said Carlton. “My room is all mussed up too. I—I think I’ll——”
“You’ll what?” asked Dan kindly as the boy hesitated.
“I—I think I’ll write my mother and ask her to let me come home.”
“No, no. That isn’t the way. I’ll go over with you, and we’ll set matters to rights in a minute. Do you know who did it?”
“I think I do. I am almost sure——”
“Well, don’t let him know that you know, whoever it is.”