“He’ll be down on me more than ever,” thought Tom as he made his way back to the grandstand, which was rapidly emptying. “Well, I can’t help it.”
“Your arm must be much better,” remarked Miss Tyler as Tom came up to her. “You pitched finely.”
“Well, I’ve had plenty of practice,” was his answer. “I fancy Langridge was tired out,” he added generously. “It’s no fun to pitch a losing game.”
“But you did.”
“Oh, well, it was my first chance on the ’varsity, and I would have welcomed it if the score had been a hundred to nothing.”
“Will you pitch regularly now?”
“I don’t know. I hope——”
But Tom stopped. He had almost forgotten that Miss Tyler was very friendly to Langridge, in spite of the little scene at the dance.
For two days after the disastrous game with Fairview Langridge sulked in his room and would not report for practice. He talked somewhat wildly about Tom, the latter heard, and practically accused him of being responsible for his disgrace. He even said Tom was intriguing against him to win away his friends; meaning Kerr especially, for the ’varsity catcher announced that he was done with Langridge as far as sociability was concerned. But Kerr, hearing this, came to Tom’s defense, and stated openly that it was Langridge himself who was to blame.