“We’re not ready to start yet, though,” said Dolph. “We’re waiting for Phillips. I’ve sent for him.” He spoke confidently enough, although his gaze wandered anxiously toward the terrace path.
“It’s time to play,” said Morton Prince, captain and pitcher of the Towners. “I insist, Mr. Umpire, that the game begin.”
“We’ll wait five minutes,” responded Mr. Shay.
Prince shrugged his shoulders and turned away.
“They’ve bought the umpire, fellows,” he announced with a laugh. “We might as well go home.”
Shouts of “play ball!” came from the Towners. At that minute Joe Cassart appeared breathlessly and drew Dolph aside. It was quite apparent that something had gone wrong and both Towners and Boarders ceased their shouting.
“I can’t find him anywhere, Dolph,” reported Joe. “He isn’t in his room and he hasn’t been in dining hall. I went to the Residence, too; thought he might have been called to see Benny; but Benny doesn’t know anything about him. I looked everywhere.”
Dolph shrugged his shoulders hopelessly.
“They’ve got him,” he said. “They probably sent a decoy message and Sammy walked right into the trap. There’s no use looking for him. We’ll just have to go ahead without him. Hal, you’re in the box. Sam can’t be found.”