CHAPTER XXIV
TREACHERY
Mr. Hamilton arrived at Kentfield the day before the game withMooretown. Dick welcomed his parent enthusiastically, and introduced himto all his chums, with whom the millionaire was soon on friendly terms.
"You'll have a chance to see us play, dad!" cried the captain. "You'llgo Mooretown with us; won't you?"
"To see you beaten?" asked Mr. Hamilton quizzically.
"Not much! We'll wipe up the gridiron with them!" cried Ray Dutton."We've got to, if we want that loving cup," he added with a laugh, "andBlue Hill, too."
"Well, I guess I'll come," assented Dick's father. "But I have somebusiness to transact first."
"I'm afraid you won't transact much of it," spoke Dick in a low voice."Mr. Duncaster is very obstinate."
"How are you going to Mooretown?" inquired Mr. Hamilton.
"By special train. Our manager has arranged for one. I did think ofautos, but the roads are pretty poor and then we want to take a bigcrowd with us to 'root' for a win. So we'll go by train."
"Then I'll come along. Now tell me about this Mr. Duncaster," and Dickproceeded to do so, detailing his own visit, and that of Mr. Larabee.
"Hum! A hard man to do business with. Still I've got to try, for itmeans a lot to me," and Mr. Hamilton sighed. Dick noticed with regretthat his father's face was much more wrinkled than it had been, and thegray hairs were more numerous.
"The strain is telling on him," mused the lad. "I wonder what wouldhappen if he lost all his money--and if I lost mine," for of late Dickhad transferred most of his funds to his father, to use in the electricroad deal. In fact most of the Hamilton fortune was now tied up in thatline.
"But I guess dad will make out," concluded our hero. "He has been intight places before, and has always pulled through."
Mr. Hamilton set off to see Enos Duncaster, and Dick made his fatherpromise to take dinner with him that night at the Sacred Pig where animpromptu spread had been arranged in honor of the visit of themillionaire. Major Webster Colonel Masterly, and several of the academyfaculty had promised to attend.
"It won't be much on the 'eat' line for you fellows and me," Dick hadwarned them, "we can't break training until after we have wiped out thedisgrace of the Blue Hill defeat, and that won't be for two weeks. Thenwe'll have a feast that is a feast."
"Good!" cried Innis Beeby for he was fond of feasts, and suffered underthe rigorous football regime.
Dick was waiting for his father's return from Mr. Duncaster's house thatevening, sitting in his room trying to study. He was not making muchheadway for he was thinking of many things--of the game on themorrow--of the one with Blue Hill, and of what success his father wouldmeet with. Paul Drew was out at a society meeting.
There came a knock on the door, a timid hesitating sort of a knock, andDick, wondering who it could be, called out:
"Come in!"
Sam Porter entered, first looking around the apartment to see thatDick's roommate was not present.
"Are you busy, Hamilton?" he asked, and there was that in his voice thatcaused Dick to wonder at him. There was a thickness and a sort ofleering familiarity that was unusual.
"No, I'm not busy. Come in and make yourself comfortable. There's aneasy chair," and Dick knocked a pile of books from one to make room forhis visitor.
"I want to ask a favor of you, Hamilton, and I want you to grantit--understand?" and Porter looked sharply at the captain. "I want youto promise."
"I can't promise, until I hear what it is," said the young millionairegood-naturedly.
"Yes you can--if you want to--un'stand?" Sam Porter leaned forward.
"You want to grant me this favor--un'stand," went on Porter, "or you'llbe sorry. Sorry, see?"
"What is it?" asked Dick, trying not to show the disgust he felt.
"I want to play in that Mooretown game to-morrow--play fullgame--un'stand? I don't want to sit on side lines like some poor Indianwrapped up in a blanket--I want to go in from start an' wallop themfellers. Un'stand? I want to play. You can put me in as well as not.Will you? It's favor, Ham, an' if you don't do it, you'll be sorry!"
"Why?" asked Dick, for there was a vague threat in the tones of hiscaller.
"Well, nev' min'. Will you let me play?"
Porter was not himself. Dick had never seen him thus, and he feared lestsome of the teachers discover his condition. He thought it best totemporize with him.
"I'll see what I can do," he promised good-naturedly. "Come and see mein the morning. You'd better go to bed now."
"Go to bed?" and Porter's voice rose. "Why, wha's matter me? Ain't Ia'right?"
"Yes, but if you are to play to-morrow you'll need a rest. See me in themorning."
"All right. I'll go. But if I can't play whole game you be sorry, Ham.You're good feller--you let me play--be sorry if you don't--tha's all,"and Porter lurched from the room, while Dick shook his head sorrowfully.
Mr. Hamilton came up to Dick's room about an hour later. It needed but alook at his face to see that his errand had proven a failure.
"Well?" asked Dick, but he knew what the answer would be.
"Mr. Duncaster wouldn't even talk to me when he learned what my objectwas," said the millionaire wearily. "I guess we can't do anything withhim, Dick. But never mind," he added more brightly, "I can try anotherscheme. They haven't got us beaten yet, Dick, my boy!"
Dick put his father up in an apartment in the Sacred Pig after thelittle banquet. It was a gay affair in spite of the millionaire'sdisappointment, and the boys voted him a brick.
Porter approached the captain the next morning. He did not seem at allashamed of his condition of yesterday.
"Well, Hamilton, am I to play?" was the somewhat sharp question.
"You'll have to take your chances with the other subs," was the youngcaptain's answer. "I can't make any changes in the Varsity now. I mayafter the first half, if we find Mooretown easy enough."
"Yes, that's it!" sneered Porter. "You'll only put me in on the easygames. I won't stand for it. Either I play the full game, or off comesmy suit for the season."
"You can please yourself about that," and Dick turned aside.
"You'll be sorry for this!" muttered Porter, as he walked away.
The last arrangements had been made, the team and substitutes surroundedby the crowd of students who could not go to Mooretown, had been cheeredagain and again, and Grit had been decorated as a mascot.
The crowd which was to accompany the players on the special train hadall gathered, and the march to the depot was begun. Mr. Hamilton waswith Dick.
"Humph! Our special hasn't pulled in yet," observed Manager Hatfieldwhen the station was reached, and there were no cars in waiting "That'sfunny. The agent said it would be surely here ready for us. I'll ask himabout it."
Dick was standing near the manager when he questioned the stationmaster. That official seemed greatly surprised at the crowd of playersand spectators.
"Your special train?" he exclaimed. "Why you countermanded the order forit. The game was off, I understood, so I sent the engine and carsback."
"Sent them back!" cried Dick. "How was that?'
"Why, I had them all here, and the engineer had steam up, waiting foryou. About an hour ago one of your students came down here and saidMooretown had cancelled the game, and that you weren't going to play.So, as I didn't want the special standing here in the way of the regulartrains, I sent it back to the yard."
"Can we get it again?" asked Hatfield, wondering what had happened.
"Not inside of several hours."
"What sort of a student told you we didn't want it?" asked Dick,excitedly.
"A tall lad, rather stout, and with quite a good color--you know--sortof beefy."
"Porter!" whispered Dick, involuntarily, and several heard him.
"The special has been sent back, we can't get a train in several hours,and we're due at Mooretown at two o'clock," spoke the manager. "They'llclaim the game by forfeit if we don
't show up, and then----"
"Good-bye to our chances for the championship," put in Beeby gloomily.
"There's been treachery here," murmured Dick, as he gazed at the blankfaces of his companions. "Treachery! This is what Sam Porter meant whenhe said I'd be sorry."
Dick Hamilton's Football Team; Or, A Young Millionaire On The Gridiron Page 25