“Hanged if I know what to say. Who was that sporty chap, anyhow?”
“Search me. He seemed to take a good deal for granted. The puppy! I felt like punching him one, the way he leered at the girls.”
“So did I. Would have, too, only for Sid. He seemed to be friendly with the flashy chap.”
“Yes, and that’s the funny part of it. He seemed somehow to have Sid under a spell.”
“It’s just another phase of the mystery that seems to have been enveloping poor old Sid, of late,” went on Tom. “I only hope one thing, and that is, that whatever it is that it doesn’t interfere with baseball. We’ve got to depend a lot on Sid this season, as the other fellows aren’t batting as I hoped they would, and this includes myself, but I never was much as a hitter. I never could get above two sixty-eight, but Sid won’t have any trouble getting to four hundred, and he can bat both ways, placing a ball in either right or left field. But if this thing is going to keep up,” and Tom shook his head dolefully, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Losing that game to Fairview didn’t do our standing any good,” remarked Phil.
“I should say not! But we play Dodville Prep school Saturday, and they’re easy fruit.”
“That will help pull our average up some,” admitted Phil.
They made the rest of the trip back to Randall almost in silence, Tom making an occasional remark about baseball, and Phil replying, but the thoughts of both were more on the events of the day than on the great game.