The communication was torn open, and Tom glanced over it hastily.
“Here’s a surprise, Sam,” he cried. “Well, what do you know about this!” And he read as follows:
“I have something of a surprise for you. In coming to a settlement with Pelter, Japson & Company, they notified me that they were going out of business in New York City. Pelter claims that our exposing the firm practically ruined them, and at the present time there is still due father a matter of about fifteen hundred dollars, which they seem unable to pay. Both Pelter and Japson have offered to turn over to us the entire contents of their offices in Wall Street, along with their lease. I don’t think the outfit is worth the fifteen hundred dollars, but when you can’t get all that is coming to you, the next best thing is to take what you can get. I am writing to father about this, and if he agrees with me, I shall take the lease of the offices, and also the outfit, which includes several desks, chairs, a safe and a filing cabinet. Pelter says the outfit was new two years ago, so that it is in quite good condition.
“Dora sends her best regards. As you know, we are now installed in our suite at the Outlook Hotel, and she spends quite some of her time shopping and looking around the city. I have gone out with her a few times, but spend most of my time in straightening out these financial matters, and in taking care of father’s other investments. Mr. Powell, the lawyer, is assisting me to unravel the tangle, but it is hard work, and I often wish that one or both of you were here to help me. Remember me to all the boys and likewise to Grace and Nellie.
“By the way, I understand that Josiah Crabtree is soon to leave the hospital. His leg was so badly broken that he will have to walk with either a crutch or a couple of canes. In one way, I feel sorry for the old fellow, but he brought the accident on himself. What a shame that a man with his education couldn’t have remained honest and straightforward.
“As I said above, Pelter, Japson & Company, are going to give up business here. Just the same, I don’t like Pelter’s actions at all. I think he is a bad one through and through—much worse than Japson—who is more weak than wicked. I am going to keep my eyes open whenever Pelter is around.”
Both boys read this communication from Dick with deep interest. Then Sam read the letter a second time and looked thoughtfully at Tom.
“I don’t think Dick is having any easy time of it,” was his sober comment.
“Just what I have been thinking all along, Sam. When Dick says he wishes he had one or both of us with him, he means it. Just as soon as the college term comes to a close, I am going to New York.”
“Well, I’ll go with you,” returned Sam. “I did think we might go on some kind of an outing during July and August, but it wouldn’t be fair to take the time off and leave Dick at the grind alone.”
“Of course, I think we ought to go home first,” continued Tom, after a pause. “The folks will want to see us, and, besides, we will want to talk matters over with dad, and also with Uncle Randolph. They may want to tell us something about the business.”
“Do you think that Uncle Randolph had much money invested with father?”
“I don’t know exactly what to think, Sam. Uncle Randolph is very peculiar, and since father has been sick again, he has not wanted to talk matters over very much. We will have to be careful of what we say when we get home. It won’t do, so the doctor said, to excite him too much.”
“Oh, I know that as well as you do. In fact, it might be best not to mention business to dad at all. You must remember that this is the third breakdown he has had since we came to Brill, and another such turn might prove serious.”
“Oh, don’t talk like that! It makes me shiver to think of it. What in the world would we do if anything happened to poor, dear dad!”
“If only Uncle Randolph was more of a business man, he might go to New York and help Dick; but you know how he is all wrapped up in what he calls ‘scientific farming.’ Of course, it doesn’t amount to a hill of beans, but he thinks it does, and he spends a great deal of money on it that might be put to better usage.”
“Well, it’s his own money, you must remember, and he has a right to do what he pleases with it. But for gracious sake! don’t get him to go to New York. It would only mix up matters worse than ever. Dick would not only have to take care of the business, but he would also have to take care of Uncle Randolph. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to leave Aunt Martha to look after dad, alone.” And there, for the time being, the talk on personal matters came to an end.
CHAPTER VI
BASEBALL TALK
With so many other affairs to claim our attention, I have purposely avoided going into the details of the baseball season at Brill that year. As my old readers know, the college had a baseball nine and a football eleven, and both had, at various times, done well at one sport or the other.
This particular year, baseball matters had not gone as well as had been expected. In the first place, several of the best players on the nine had graduated the year before and left the college. Then had come a long wet spell, during which time only some indoor practice in the gymnasium could be attempted. Thus, at the opening of the season, the nine possessed four players who had hitherto played only on the scrub, and the whole team lacked the practice that was essential to success. The most serious loss was in the battery, both the pitcher and catcher of the year previous having left the college. Bob Grimes, who played at shortstop, was the captain, and after a good many tryouts, he had put Spud Jackson in as catcher. For pitcher, there were three candidates: a lad named Bill Harney, who was a tall junior; a much smaller chap who had come from Yale, named Dare Phelps; and Tom, who had been pushed forward by a number of his friends. Tom had thought to pay strict attention to his studies for the remainder of the term, but finally agreed to accept the position if it was offered to him.
“I think you are going to make it, Tom,” said Songbird one day after Tom had been pitching on the regular team against Bill Harney, who had been pitching on the scrub. Tom had managed to hold the scrub down to three hits, while Harney had allowed fourteen hits, one of which had been turned by the batter into a home run.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” replied Tom. “Harney isn’t so bad. He had a little ill luck today, that’s all. And then, don’t forget Phelps.”
“I’m not forgetting either of them. Just the same, I think you are going to make the nine.”
The next day, Tom was put in as pitcher on the scrub, while Dare Phelps occupied the box for the regular nine. For the first six innings, it was a nip-and-tuck battle between the two pitchers. But from that time on, Dare Phelps seemed to go to pieces, while Tom struck out man after man. As a result, the score at the end of the game stood 4 to 10 in favor of the scrub.
“Tom, I think that settles it!” cried his brother, as he rushed up and took the other by the shoulder. “You certainly held them down in great shape.”
“And say, didn’t the scrub bang Phelps all over the diamond!” broke in another student. “My, he must feel pretty sore!” And evidently this was true, because a minute later Dare Phelps left the diamond and disappeared from view. Nearly everybody in the college had watched the games between the scrub and the regular nine; and that night the concensus of opinion seemed to be that Tom ought to pitch for the regular team.
“You’ll have to do it, Tom,” said Bob Grimes, when he called on the older Rover in the morning. “Phelps acknowledges that you are a better pitcher than he is, and I think Bill Harney will have to do the same.”
“Better wait and see how I pitch in one of the regular games,” returned Tom, modestly. “For all you know, I may go to pieces.”
“Nonsense, Tom! I know you too well for that,” and Bob grinned broadly. “We’ll show Roxley College this year what we can do.”
Every year there were two contests between Brill and Roxley, a rival college located some miles away. One contest was at baseball
, and the other football. During the past Fall, Roxley had suffered its second defeat on the gridiron at the hands of Brill. But the Spring previous, its baseball nine had literally “wiped up the diamond” with Brill by a score of 6 to 0. My, readers can, therefore, well imagine how anxious the baseball management was to win the game scheduled to come off in about a week.
Since returning to college from his trip to New York, and then the longer trip to Alaska, Sam had given almost his entire time to his studies. He was quite a baseball player, but he felt that to play on the regular team would take too much of his time.
“If you are going to leave college this June, it won’t make so much difference whether you pass with flying colors or not, Tom,” he said. “But if I am to return in the Fall, I want to make sure that I am not going to do so under conditions.”
“But, Sam, I don’t see why you can’t play a game or two,” persisted Tom. “It doesn’t seem natural for you to keep out of it altogether.”
“Well, I have played some on the scrub.”
“Oh, I know, but that isn’t like going in for the regular thing. You could be on the regular team if you really wanted to.”
This matter was talked over several times, but Sam refused to be entirely persuaded. He, however, finally agreed to go on the bench as a substitute, provided Bob would not ask him to play any inside position. By a toss-up, it had been decided that the game should take place on the Roxley grounds. As a consequence, the boys of Brill and their friends would have to go to the other college either by train from Ashton, or in automobiles or some other kinds of conveyances.
“Of course, we’ll take the girls, Tom,” said Sam, in talking the matter over. “We can go over to Hope in the auto for them, and I think it would be nice if we took Songbird along and stopped at the Sanderson cottage for Minnie.”
“All right, that suits me,” replied Tom, “Let us ask Songbird about it.”
Of course the would-be poet was delighted, and he at once sent a note to Minnie, asking her to be ready when the auto arrived. The girls at Hope were communicated with over the telephone.
“I’m afraid it’s going to rain,” said Spud, on the evening before the great game was to take place. And Spud was right. By nine o’clock it was raining steadily.
“Just our confounded luck!” muttered Songbird, as he paced up and down the room which he and half a dozen others were occupying. “Now, I suppose that game and our nice auto ride will be all knocked in the head.”
“Don’t worry so early,” returned Sam, cheerfully. “I don’t think this is anything more than a shower, and we need that to lay the dust.” Sam proved to be right, for before some of the boys retired, the rain had stopped coming down, and one by one the stars began to appear. In the morning, the sun came up as bright as ever, and by ten o’clock the ground was as dry as any one could wish. The day was a Saturday, and, of course, a holiday both at Brill and Roxley. By eleven o’clock, a carryall had taken a large number of the students to Ashton, where they were to take a special train for Roxley. All of the automobiles at Brill were in use, and with them all of the turnouts that could be hired in the vicinity.
“No time to spare!” sang out Tom, as he ran the automobile up to the college steps.
“I am ready,” said Sam, who had a dresssuit case with Tom’s uniform and his own in it.
“Where is Songbird?”
“I don’t know, I thought he was with you.”
“Here I am!” came the cry, and the would-be poet of the college came rushing across the campus. He was dressed in his very best suit, and wore a rose in his buttonhole.
“Wait! I almost forgot the horns!” cried Sam, and he darted back into the building, to reappear a few seconds later with several long tin horns. Into the automobile piled the boys, and then, with a loud sounding of the horn, Tom turned on the power, and the machine started off in the direction of Hope, soon reaching the spot where the automobile had gone into the river.
“That poor chap didn’t hurt his machine much, so I have heard,” remarked Sam, as they bowled along over the bridge. “But, I think it might have been better if he had come out of it scott free, and the auto had gone to pieces.”
“We ought to call on him, Sam,” returned Tom. “I would like to find out whether or not he is related to Jesse Pelter.”
“Oh, don’t bother about that today. Let your, mind rest on the game—and the girls,” and Sam grinned faintly.
The run to the seminary did not take long. The Laning girls stood waiting on the porch, and once they were in the car, the machine was headed in the direction of the Sanderson cottage.
Nellie occupied the front seat with Tom, while Sam was in the tonneau with Grace and Songbird. The younger girl was in her usual happy mood, but Nellie’s face showed worriment.
“Have you heard anything more about the missing ring?” questioned Tom, while on the way to the Sanderson farmhouse.
“Not a thing, Tom,” answered Nellie, soberly.
“Of course they have questioned the hired help?”
“Yes. And they have also questioned a number of the teachers and the students.”
“Has Miss Harrow said anything more about it to you?”
“No, but every time we meet, she gives me such a cold look that it fairly makes me shiver. Oh, Tom, sometimes I don’t know how I am going to stand it!” And now the girl showed signs of breaking down.
“There, there! Don’t think about it any more, Nellie—at least, for today. Think of the jolly good time we are going to have and how we are going to defeat Roxley.”
“Do you think Brill will win, Tom? I heard some of the girls at Hope say that they were sure Roxley would come out ahead. They said they have an unusually strong nine this year, and that they have already won some games from the strongest nines around here.”
“Well, that is true. Nevertheless, we hope to come out ahead.”
“Sure we’ll come out ahead!” cried Songbird. “With Tom in the box it’s a cinch.”
“Just what I say,” broke in Sam. “Tom has got some curves that are bound to fool them.”
In order to make time, Tom had put on nearly all the speed of which the car was capable, and in a short while they came in sight of the Sanderson farm. Mr. Sanderson was at work in an apple orchard near by, and waved his hand to them as the machine drew up to the horse-block.
“Better come along,” sang out Sam, gaily.
“I wouldn’t mind a-seein’ the game,” returned the old farmer. “But I’ve promised to pick these early apples and ship ’em. I wish you boys luck.” And then he brought over a pail full of apples, and dumped them in the tonneau of the car. Minnie, looking as fresh and sweet as ever, was on the piazza, and when the car stopped she hurried down the garden walk. Songbird leaped out and helped her in beside Grace, shaking hands at the same time.
“Good gracious, Pa! how could you do so?” said Minnie, reproachfully, as she stepped between the apples.
“Oh, I thought as how ye might git hungry on th’ way,” returned Mr. Sanderson, with a broad grin. “If ye don’t want to eat them, you feed your hosses on ’em.” And he laughed at his little’ joke.
“We’ll eat them fast enough don’t worry,” cried Sam, and then, with a toot of the horn, the automobile proceeded on its way to Roxley.
CHAPTER VII
THE GREAT BASEBALL GAME
“Some crowd, this!”
“Well, I should say so! Say, this is the biggest crowd we ever had at any game.”
“And look at the new grandstand, all decked out in flags and banners!”
“And look at the automobiles! We’ll have to hurry up, or all the parking space will be gone.”
“Hurrah, Brill! Come down here to see us defeat you, eh?” And a merry looking student, wearing the colors of Roxley on his cap, and waving a Roxley banner in his hand, grinne
d broadly at Tom and the others.
“No, we came to bury you,” retorted Sam. “It’s all over but the shouting.” And then he took up one of the horns he had brought, and sounded it loudly.
“Better let me take the car to the other end of the grounds,” suggested Songbird. “You fellows will want to get into your uniforms and into practice.”
“Oh, we want to get good seats for the girls first,” broke in Tom. “It won’t take long to park the machine.”
In a moment more, they found themselves in a perfect jam of touring cars, motor cycles, and carriages. Finding a suitable spot, Tom brought the touring car to a standstill, turned off the power, and placed the starting plug in his pocket. Then the entire party made its way as rapidly as possible to the grandstand, one-half of which had been reserved for the students of Brill and their friends. Here Songbird took charge of matters.
“Just leave it all to me,” he said. “You fellows go in and win.”
“Yes, you must win, by all means, Tom!” cried Nellie. “Just remember that I’ve got my eye on you.”
“Yes, we all want you to win,” came from Minnie Sanderson. “I am going to root—isn’t that the right word?—for all I know how.”
“That’s the word!” cried Sam. “I declare, before you get through, you’ll be a regular baseball fan!” And at this sally there was a general laugh.
Tom and Sam would have liked it had they been able to stay with the girls longer, but the other members of the team were already in the dressing room, donning their uniforms, and thither the Rovers made their way. A short while later, the word was passed around, and the Brill team marched out on the grounds for practice; even Sam, as a substitute, taking part. Evidently, the outsiders living in that vicinity were of the opinion that the game would be well worth seeing, for long after the grandstand and the bleachers were filled, the crowd kept coming in the several gates.
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 292