“It was just what Sid wanted,” decided Tom to Phil as he noted the lively look on the second baseman’s face, for he was jolly and laughing, in spite of the pain of his injured foot.
There was a great celebration in Randall when the victorious team marched up the campus that night, and bonfires galore glared all around.
“A feast to-night,” decided a crowd of the team’s most enthusiastic supporters. “Sid Henderson will be toastmaster, on account of his great work.”
But Sid, who had limped to his room to change his clothes, shook his head.
“Why not?” asked Tom and Phil in surprise.
“Because I—I’ve got to go away to-night,” and Sid tried to conceal a letter in his hand—a letter which he had found awaiting him when he returned from Wescott with his chums.