“Because both of us have noticed that something’s been bothering you latterly,” added Steve; “and as you’re not the fellow to borrow trouble it’s got us guessing, I tell you. Who’s the weak brother on the team you’re afraid of, Jack?”
“I see your guessing has been in the right direction, Steve,” the other went on to remark, with an affectionate nod; for in the few months he had known them, these new chums had won a warm place in Jack Winters’ heart. “Don’t be startled now when I tell you it’s Fred who’s keeping me awake nights.”
Both the others uttered low exclamations of surprise.
“What! Fred Badger, our bully reliable third baseman, equal to that crackerjack Harmony boasts about as the best in the State!” gasped Toby. “Why, only yesterday I heard you say our Fred was getting better right along, and that his equal couldn’t be easily found. We don’t even need to keep a substitute back of Fred, his work is that gilt-edged.”
“That’s just what’s troubling me,” admitted Jack, quietly. “If I was able to lay my hand on some one right now who could fill Fred’s shoes even fairly well, I wouldn’t be so bothered; but there isn’t a boy in Chester who can play that difficult position so as not to leave a terrible gap in our stone-wall infield, no one but Fred.”
“But what’s the matter with Fred?” demanded Steve.
“I saw him not an hour ago,” spoke up Toby, “and say, he didn’t look so very sick then, let me tell you, Jack. He was swallowing an ice-cream soda in the drug-store, and seemed to be enjoying it immensely, too.”
“And yet,” added Steve, thoughtfully, “now that you mention it, Jack, seems to me Fred has been acting a little queer lately. There’s been a sort of shifting way he avoids looking straight into your eyes when you’re talking with him. Why, when I got speaking about our next big game, and hoped he’d play like a regular demon at third sack he grinned sheepishly, and simply said he meant to try and do himself credit, but nobody could ever tell how luck was going to pan out.”
Jack shook his head.
“That’s just it, fellows,” he went on to say, gloomily. “I’ve heard the same thing from others. In fact, Phil Parker even went on to say it looked like Fred was getting ready to excuse himself in case he did commit some terrible crime in juggling a ball when a vital time in the game came, and a clean throw meant win or lose.”