It was a critical moment and Darrell felt it. He pulled Sam to one side and whispered rapidly and tensely in his ear:
“Sam, you’ve got to apologize, and you’ve got to admit that the runner was safe. There’s no other way out of it.”
“Suppose I won’t?”
There was defiance in Sam’s air. Darrell took a quick decision.
“Then I’ll put you out of the team!” was his instant rejoinder, and it came so promptly that Sam winced.
Now it is one thing to resign, but quite another to be read out of an organization, whether it be a baseball team or a political society. Sam realized this. He might have, in his anger, refused to belong to the Silver Stars and, later on he could boast of having gotten out of his own accord. But to be “fired” carried no glory with it, and Sam was ever on the lookout for glory.
“Do you mean that?” he asked of Darrell. “Won’t you fellows stick up for me?”
He looked a vain appeal to his mates.
“I mean every word of it,” replied the manager firmly. “We fellows would stick up for you if you were in the right, but you’re dead wrong this time. It’s apologize or get out of the team!”
Once more Sam paused. He could hear the angry murmurs of the home players as they watched him, waiting for his decision. Even some of his own mates were regarding him with unfriendly eyes. He must make a virtue of necessity.