“Sure I did,” responded Billy untruthfully as he climbed to the box. “Whoa, boy. All right, John.”
The carriage moved, turned and a flood of sunlight reached Sam. They were outside the stable and moving slowly down the driveway! In the front of the brougham was a wide pane of glass through which Sam could see the box and Billy’s blue-clad back, and through which Billy, if he cared, could see Sam! But Billy never suspected that he had a passenger. As the drive made a turn Sam glanced back and saw Perkins once more seated at the carriage house door with his paper in hand. Sam grinned broadly. Then he untied his shoes and hurriedly thrust his feet into them. There was no time to lace them up, for the carriage had reached the gate. As Sam had expected, Billy turned the horse’s head toward the business centre of town. Opening the door of the brougham just as Billy clicked to the sorrel and the sorrel started into a trot, Sam leaped lightly into the road and slammed the door behind him. Billy turned startledly and pulled up his horse. But Sam was scudding in the opposite direction as fast as his legs would carry him. At a safe distance he turned and looked back. The brougham was still motionless and Billy was gazing after his late passenger with open mouth. Sam waved him a farewell and trotted on, chuckling enjoyably.
He had hoped that a trolley car would happen along and give him a lift as far as the Maple Ridge road, but there was none in sight, and a moment later Sam recollected the fact that he had no money and so wouldn’t have got very far anyway. It was nearly half-past three now. He no longer hoped to reach school in time to take part in the game. All he did hope for was to arrive in time to confront Chesty Harris and the others and, backed by the indignant Boarders, give them a bad five minutes!
The sun was still pretty hot and the road was dusty and Sam heartily wished that Billy had been going in this direction instead of the other. He turned into the Maple Ridge road, pausing a moment at the fountain there to have a drink. Then removing his coat and mopping his face, he went on. He wasn’t trotting now, but he stepped out briskly and, having found his second-wind presently, made good time. It was well toward four o’clock when he entered the deserted campus at Maple Ridge. That none of the fellows were in sight proved that the game was still in progress, so Sam hurried by the gymnasium and down the terrace walk. The crowd was too thick about the plate for him to see much, but Watkins out in right field showed that the Towners were at bat. So interested were the watchers in the contest that Sam joined them unseen, and it was only when he pushed his way through the throng about the plate that his advent was noted.
A wild cheer went up from the Boarders as Sam laid his hand on Dolph’s arm, and they began to press around him. Questions fell thick, but Sam waved them aside.
“They caught me this noon and locked me up in Chesty’s stable,” he said shortly. “I just got away. How’s it going, Dolph?”
“Six to five in our favor,” replied Dolph succinctly. “First of the ninth. Three on bases, none out, and Morris pitched to a standstill. Can you go in?”
“Sure!” The light of battle flamed in Sam’s eyes. “Six to five, you say? Let’s get at it!”
[Sam shed his coat], tossed it to Midget Greene [and walked toward the plate]. Over on the Towner’s bench the news of Sam’s arrival had awakened first incredulity and then dismay. The bench emptied as the fellows crowded up to see for themselves. But there was Sam as large as life and twice as cheerful.
“How the dickens did he get out?” whispered Mort Prince to Dick Furst.