“Why can’t you take us?” asked Phil. “You say you have no load on your truck, and it isn’t much out of your way. We’ll pay you well.”
“Maybe you would,” admitted the man, “but I’ve heard of you students. If some of you ran off with a trolley car, there’s no tellin’ but what you’d take this truck away from me at some lonely spot and go cruisin’ off like Captain Kidd.”
“No, no,” promised the lads eagerly. “We won’t cut up a bit.”
They had some difficulty in convincing [the man] of this, but did so finally, and he [allowed them to pile in]. They had to stand up and the road was rough. They were jolted about, for the truck was not built for easy riding, but they did not mind that, for they felt that there was a chance to play the game, and they urged the man to put on all speed.
They reached Dodville just as the game was about to be awarded to the preparatory school on a forfeit. The members of the Randall nine who had arrived in the second trolley car, which safely made the trip, could not explain the absence of their companions.
The game was started, but it was not remarkable for any brilliant work on the part of the college freshmen. In fact the other students played all around them. Possibly this was due to the episode that had occurred, for Langridge was nervous and threw wild, giving a number of men their bases on balls. Kerr asked him to let Tom pitch, but Langridge refused arrogantly and with bitter words against the scrub twirler. Nor would he consent that Evert should fill the box.
“I’ll pitch!” he cried excitedly. “I’ll strike ’em out next inning. You watch.”
Tom happened to be in the dressing-room when it was the turn of Randall to bat, and Langridge came in. The ’varsity pitcher did not see his rival, but going to where his valise was containing his clothing, he took something from it. Tom saw Langridge put a bottle to his lips.
“I wonder if he’s taking medicine,” he thought.