THE CALL FOR BASEBALL CANDIDATES
For a moment Fred could scarcely believe his eyes, mechanically
stooping and picking up the crisp pieces of paper. Then, as he
caught sight of the letter "C" on each, he realized that he held two
one-hundred-dollar bills.
"I've won! I've won!" he cried. "Here, Momsy, these are for you!" And,
rushing to his mother, he placed the money in her hands.
Rejoicing in his success, the others expressed their delight in no
uncertain ways, while Mrs. Markham sank into a chair and beamed upon
them.
"What does the letter say?" inquired Grace suddenly, noticing that Fred
still held the sheet of paper in his hand.
"Jove! I'd forgotten. Listen:
"MY DEAR FRED:
"Accept my heartiest congratulations upon your success in winning
the Second Form Scholarship in Science. Knowing what this means to
you, I am enclosing the amount of the prize. As formal announcement
of the award will not be made until to-morrow morning, I request
that you only impart the news of your success to your good mother
until then. With best wishes,
"RICHARD VINING."
"Good for the Head. I always knew he was a brick!" exclaimed Buttons.
"It certainly is most considerate of him to relieve our suspense," said
Mrs. Markham.
But in the hour of his happiness, Fred's thoughts were not of himself.
"I wonder if Bronson knew what this envelope contained," he mused. "It
must have been rather hard on him if he did."
"Oh, don't worry about _him_," protested Margie. "This is an occasion
of jubilation, not mourning."
"That's what, Cotton-Top," chimed in Buttons. "Come in to the feast,
Mrs. Markham." And, seizing the happy woman by the arm, he led her to
the supper-table, whither the others quickly followed, and what had
promised to be a solemn meal was one of great merriment.
All at once, while the young people were enjoying themselves after
supper, Fred laughed aloud.
"What is it now?" demanded Buttons.
"You can't any of you go home," grinned Fred.
"Why not?" asked the others.
"Because the Head requested me not to let the fact of my winning be
known before to-morrow. If you go home, you'll tell about it. So you
must stay here."
"But we can't," protested the girls.
"It isn't a question of can; it's one of must," declared Fred.
"But mother will worry," persisted Margie.
"Yes; I'm afraid she will," interposed Mrs. Markham.
"I'll fix that," announced the winner of the prize.
"How?" inquired both girls.
"Go round to Buttons' and telephone to both your mothers."
"But you'll have to tell them you won over the phone--which would mean
the whole town," declared Grace.
"Trust me not to. I'll just say you are going to stay at our house, and
hang up the receiver before they can ask questions."
"Buttons may tell, though," suggested Margie.
"No, he won't. Will you?"
"Sure not. It's too decent of the Head to let us know Fred won to throw
him down."
In their hearts, Margie and Grace were only too delighted at the
thought of not going home, and, as the obstacles they had raised were
removed, they sighed resignedly.
Mrs. Newcomb and Mrs. Darling, however, proved less easy to assure,
and the boys found it necessary to take Buttons' mother into their
confidence before the desired permission was obtained.
"I'm so glad you won, Fred," declared the good woman. "You certainly
worked hard for it. Ever since that Bart Montgomery acted so
atrociously when you went down to see the football elevens off, I've
hoped it wouldn't go to Alice."
"You must not blame her for Bart's actions," exclaimed Fred. "Alice is
no more like the rest of the Montgomerys than I am."
"Which is some difference," chuckled Buttons. "Come on, Cotton-Top.
Let's get back. Now, mother, don't forget--you're keeping a secret."
And, with a merry laugh, the boys took their departure.
Exempt from the examinations because they had attained a daily average
of ninety per cent. or better, the four young people were aware the
notice of the Scholarship award would be placed on the bulletin-board
early, and they timed their arrival at school the next morning so that
Fred's success would be known first. But they had no idea of the manner
of his greeting.
No sooner had one of his Form mates caught sight of Fred's yellow head,
than he raised a shout, and in a flash all the students rushed out to
meet him.
"Three cheers for old Cotton-Top!" yelled Soda, hugging his chum.
With a will, they were given, and then repeated.
"Speech! Speech!" shouted some one, as the tumult subsided.
Instantly the cry was taken up, the boys and girls chanting in rhythm:
"Speech! Speech! Speech!"
Blushing, Fred tried to escape, but his schoolmates good-naturedly
hemmed him in on all sides.
"I appreciate your good will," he began at last, "but I never should
have won had not my friends helped me in my studying. Indeed, it is
they who deserve the credit, not I."
Fred had been on the point of saying Alice Montgomery, instead of
"friends," but as the words were on his tongue's end, he chanced to
see Bart's face, malignant with anger and disappointment, peering at
him from the edge of the crowd, and, fearing the bully would wreak his
vengeance on his sister, should he learn of her actions, he had wisely
refrained from paying such tribute to the girl.
But before he went home to dinner, he mailed Alice a note, in which he
attributed his success solely to her patient assistance.
The Scholarship thus awarded, the students settled down to the grind of
the mid-year examinations.
On the third day succeeding the public announcement of the award, Fred
received two letters. One he recognized as from his father, but the
other puzzled him.
"Who on earth do you suppose is writing me from Boston?" he exclaimed,
after scanning the postmark.
"There's only one way to find out when you receive a letter whose
authorship you do not recognize," smiled Mrs. Markham.
But Fred did not open the missive at once, preferring to read what his
father had to say.
In affectionate terms, Mr. Markham told Fred how proud he was of
him, and then explained that his winning the money for his mother
would enable him to use his salary to defray the expense of having a
handwriting expert examine the deed of his property, which had been
changed, and compare it with specimens of Charlie Gibbs' penmanship.
This statement suggested many possibilities to the mother and son; and,
in their discussion, the second letter was forgotten until, in Fred's
moving, it dropped to the floor.
Their attention thus recalled to it, Mrs. Markham bade him open it.
"Why, it's from Clothespin," the boy exclaimed, as he turned to the
signature. "And he's enclosed a check," he continued, turning to the
last page and discovering the substitute for money.
"Mercy me! What for? Do read what he says," urged Mrs. Markham.
"Dear Cotton-Top," he began, "I'm mighty glad you won out. I asked Mr.
Vining, and he told me before I left. Upon my arrival home, I found
father ready to take a business trip to Boston, and persuaded him to
let me go with him. But he is busy all day, and I'm lonesome--so he
asked if there were any of my schoolmates I should like to have visit
me. I told him you were the only boy I cared about, and he asked me to
send you this check and invite you to come down--you know he has been
interested in you ever since I wrote him after my arrival at Baxter how
kind you were to me when all the others made fun of me.
"Please come, Fred. Telegraph me what train you will take, and I will
meet you at the station. Expectantly,
CLOTHESPIN."
"Oh, Fred! Isn't that fine. I've hated to take the money you earned
and not give you some pleasure in return. And now this opportunity has
come. I'm so thankful. Why, the check is for fifty dollars. That will
buy you a new suit of clothes, and leave you enough for your fare down
and back."
The prospect of a trip to Boston was, indeed, enticing to the boy, yet
he hesitated about saying so.
"I wonder if I couldn't send the money to father instead of going?" he
asked.
"No, indeed. Mr. Bronson sent it to you to use in going to Boston.
Unless you wish to go, you have no right to it, and must return it."
"But you'll be too lonesome, Momsy."
"No, she won't, because I'll stay with her," announced a cheery voice,
and, turning, the mother and son beheld Margie, who had entered without
the formality of rapping, in time to hear the latter part of the
conversation. "You must go, Fred. You deserve a little pleasure, if
ever any one did."
Thus assured that his mother would not be alone, the boy decided to
start that very afternoon, and telegraphed Bronson to that effect.
The lawyer did not seem at all the formidable man Fred supposed him to
be, and Mr. Bronson, on his part, took a great liking to the manly boy,
of whose persecution by the rich bully, his son had told him.
Under cover of this cordiality, Fred plucked up courage one evening to
tell about the strange actions of Mr. Montgomery and Charlie Gibbs at
the bank.
Instantly the lawyer was all attention, and, after he had heard the
story once, he made the boy repeat it, questioning him searchingly upon
the incidents.
"H'm; if Montgomery is in the habit of going to the bank at night with
his brother-in-law, it will explain several things," he mused.
But though the boy sought to draw him out, he was unable, Mr. Bronson
dismissing the subject with the remark that Fred was too young to
understand such things. Yet, on the day of his return to Baxter, he
had the satisfaction of being asked by the lawyer to advise him of any
suspicious actions by either Mr. Montgomery or Gibbs.
After the opening of the second semester, the students amused
themselves as best they could after school hours until the call was
issued for candidates for the baseball team.
As any boy in good standing was eligible, the gymnasium was well filled
when Hal Church, who had been elected captain at the close of the
previous season, greeted the candidates.
"First, I'll take the names of those who played last year," he
announced.
Quickly the boys came forward, each stating the position for which he
intended to try.
Among the first to enroll was Bart, who declared he was out for
pitcher. Then followed Lefty, third base; Shorty Sims, shortstop;
Taffy, right field; Sandow, first base, and Fred, who signified his
intention of trying for second base.
"Don't put him down; he threw my football game to Landon," growled Bart.
If a bomb had been dropped among the boys, no greater consternation
could have been produced than by this remark.
"You know better than that, Montgomery," shouted Sandow above the babel
of voices.
"Do you mean to tell me if Fred had played we wouldn't have won?"
demanded Bart angrily.
"No, I don't."
"I thought not," sneered the rich bully.
"But I tell you what I _do_ mean," flashed the leader of the Firsts. "I
mean if you had kept your head after Thomas slugged your nose, and sent
Buttons against the line, instead of always signalling for the ball to
be given to you, the Seconds would have won--or at least made a better
showing."
This open charge of both incompetence and selfish desire to carry the
ball set Bart beside himself.
"You have no license to talk--your team didn't do wonders," he
retorted. "If----"
"Yes, it did! Yes, it did! Sandow held them to no score until he was
carried from the field," shouted several of the boys.
But Bart only grew more angry at these emphatic contradictions.
"I don't care what you say or think," he flared. "If that Fred Markham
plays on the Baxter baseball team, I won't, and I'm the only decent
pitcher in the school."
This defiance threatened to bring the rival factions to blows. But Hal
was equal to the occasion.
"I am captain of this team, Montgomery," he declared when he had
produced a semblance of order. "I want you to understand that, first,
last and all the time. As captain, I shall play the players I want--not
the ones you want."
"Humph!"
"If Fred Markham wants to try for second base, he can have all the show
in the world, and if he makes good, he'll play the bag in----"
"Then I won't pitch," snarled Bart.
At this second defiance, Hal was silent a moment.
"Who's throwing the school _now_?" he flashed. "You seem to think
you're running this team, but you're not. You'll either report for
practice at the grounds this afternoon at three o'clock, or you'll not
pitch a single ball for Baxter this season. Now leave the gymnasium,
so I can enroll the rest of the candidates."
"And if I don't?"
"I'll put you out!" retorted the captain, stepping down from the chair
on which he had been standing and forcing his way through the excited
throng of students.