“It isn’t the last game, is it?” inquired Sid.
“No, there’s one more, and another with Fairview. But I’m not worrying much about the co-eds. It’s Boxer that has me guessing. Oh, Sid, but I wish you were with us.”
“So do I,” and Sid turned his face aside.
“Can’t you get back?” asked Phil. “Can’t you go to Dr. Churchill, and explain—about that bottle of liquor—you know.”
“No,” answered Sid gently, “I can’t.”
“The nine may lose,” declared Tom.
“I’m—I’m just as sorry as you are, Tom,” said the second baseman earnestly, “but it’s out of the question. I can’t explain—just yet.”
“Can you ever?” demanded Phil eagerly.
“Perhaps—soon now. I am hoping every day.”
“Have you given a—a sort of promise—to some one?” asked Tom gently.