Sunday was rainy and seemed weeks long, and Ted missed George horribly. He saw Hal Saunders at dinner and again in the evening, and it was apparent from Hal’s countenance that he had not yet found a way out of his difficulty. Ted went over to the library after supper feeling very angry with Hal, angry because that youth had endangered the success of the nine, because his foolishness was in a fair way to bring grief to George, and because he had somehow managed to make one Ted Bowman distinctly uncomfortable! Ted surrounded himself with reference books, but all the work he did scarcely paid for the effort.
Ted did not say anything to George, when the latter returned on Monday, about Hal’s affairs. After dinner that day he received a summons to the Office, and although conscious of a clear conscience he couldn’t help feeling a trifle uneasy as he obeyed it. One didn’t get an invitation to confer with “Jerry” unless the matter was one of some importance. Events subsequently justified the uneasiness, for when Ted closed the Office door behind him the second time he was on probation!
He could have stood his misfortune better had George been decently sympathetic, but George was disgusted and mad clear through. “You’ve no right to do silly stunts when you’re on the team,” he stormed. “You’ve got a duty toward the School. A fine thing, isn’t it, to get on ‘pro’ four days before the big game?”
“Well, you don’t think I asked for it, do you?” demanded Ted indignantly. “Don’t you suppose I wanted to play Saturday just as much as anyone?”
“Then you might have behaved yourself. You know perfectly well that Billy Whipple can’t hit the way you can. What did you do, anyway?”
“Nothing much. I didn’t really do anything, only ‘Jerry’ thinks I did and I can’t—can’t prove that I didn’t!”
“That’s likely,” grunted George. “You must have done something.”
“All right, then, I did. Anyhow, it doesn’t matter whether I did or didn’t. I’m out of the game. I’m sorry——”
George withered him with a look and slammed the door as he went out.