FOLLOW THE BALL
By RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
_Yardley Hall Series_
FOURTH DOWN
FORWARD PASS
DOUBLE PLAY
WINNING HIS Y
GUARDING THE GOAL
FOR YARDLEY
AROUND THE END
CHANGE SIGNALS
_Purple Pennant Series_
THE LUCKY SEVENTH
THE SECRET PLAY
THE PURPLE PENNANT
_Hilton Series_
THE HALF-BACK
FOR THE HONOR OF THE SCHOOL
CAPTAIN OF THE CREW
_Erskine Series_
BEHIND THE LINE
WEATHERBY’S INNING
ON YOUR MARK
_The “Big Four” Series_
FOUR IN CAMP
FOUR AFOOT
FOUR AFLOAT
_The Grafton Series_
RIVALS FOR THE TEAM
HITTING THE LINE
WINNING HIS GAME
_North Bank Series_
THREE BASE BENSON
KICK FORMATION
COXSWAIN OF THE EIGHT
_Books Not In Series_
THE LOST DIRIGIBLE
FOR THE FREEDOM OF THE SEAS
KEEPING HIS COURSE
THE BROTHER OF A HERO
FINKLER’S FIELD
DANFORTH PLAYS THE GAME
THE ARRIVAL OF JIMPSON
UNDER THE YANKEE ENSIGN
BENTON’S VENTURE
THE JUNIOR TROPHY
THE NEW BOY AT HILLTOP
THE SPIRIT OF THE SCHOOL
THE PLAY THAT WON
OVER TWO SEAS (With H. P. HOLT)
FOR THE GOOD OF THE TEAM
INFIELD RIVALS
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, Publishers, New York
[Illustration: THEN HAP FERRIS MADE A PASS TO SAWYER]
FOLLOW THE BALL
BY
RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
AUTHOR OF “INFIELD RIVALS,” “FOR THE GOOD OF THE TEAM,”
“COXSWAIN OF THE EIGHT,” ETC.
[Illustration]
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK :: 1924 :: LONDON
COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Copyright, 1920, 1921, 1922, 1923, by The Sprague Publishing Company
Copyright, 1920, 1922, 1923, by The Century Company
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. FOR THE TEAM 1
II. A SACRIFICE FOR KENTON 14
III. FRIENDS AT OUTS 23
IV. GHOSTS 37
V. THE VIGILANTES 48
VI. JOE FINDS A CLUE 59
VII. THE LONE CHASE 70
VIII. JOE RESIGNS 80
IX. GUS BILLINGS NARRATES 93
X. GUS BILLINGS CONCLUDES 104
XI. CAMP RESTHERE 116
XII. UNINVITED GUESTS 127
XIII. DOWN THE BROOK 139
XIV. ALONZO JONES SPEAKS 149
XV. ALONZO GOES ON 163
XVI. GINGER BURKE 176
XVII. ONE ALL 187
XVIII. THE DECIDING GAME 199
XIX. GINGER SIGNS UP AGAIN 212
XX. CALLED TO THE COLORS 223
XXI. JOE FOLLOWS THE BALL 237
FOLLOW THE BALL
CHAPTER I
FOR THE TEAM
Joe Kenton, tilted back in his swivel chair, was thinking.
The school year was nearly over and there were many things that he had
meant to do and hadn’t done. There was that extra course in the spring
term, there was that reading that was to have made next year easier,
there was――well, several other things. Such as getting on better terms
with his roommate. That, too, had got by him, in spite of all his good
intentions. There was some excuse for abandoning the extra course and
the reading; playing on the school nine hadn’t left much time for
additional work; but attaining the reputation of being the cleverest
second baseman in the history of the school needn’t have kept him from
making up with Hal Norwin.
The silly part of it was that there was no apparent reason for the
estrangement. They had entered Holman’s together last fall, and,
although they had never chummed much at home, it had seemed natural
that they should room together. But it hadn’t worked out well. They had
managed to get along without a real quarrel, but that was the best that
could be said. And now, although no word had been spoken of it, it was
mutually understood that next year they should separate. There were
moments when Joe regretted it. It did seem that they should have hit
it off better. Why hadn’t they? He had nothing against Hal; or nothing
much. He did think him a bit snobbish, inclined to make too much of the
fact that his school friends were of the “smart crowd.” And sometimes
he acted “stuck-up” about his playing. Perhaps, though, he had a right
to, for he was easily the best man on the team, not even excepting
Captain Bob Stearns. As for his trying to get Wilder on second instead
of Joe, why, he had a right to his judgment. Still, that rankled.
Perhaps, thought Joe, if he had made the effort when he had meant
to, away last autumn, they might have got together, and life in 14
Routledge would have been fairly jolly. Fourteen was a dandy study.
They had been lucky to get it. He wished he could be certain of having
as good a one next fall; for, of course, he would get out and let Hal
fill his place with a more congenial roommate. In case the trouble
had been more his fault than Hal’s, that would sort of make up. And
speaking of Hal, where the dickens was he?
The clock on his dresser said twenty-two past eleven. At Holman’s you
were required to be in hall at ten unless you had secured leave, and
even then eleven was the limit of absence. And here it was twenty-two
minutes after! Well, Hal must have obtained permission, for he couldn’t
get in now without ringing, and he surely wouldn’t be idiot enough to
risk a row with faculty! And yet, he reflected as he began to undress,
it wouldn’t be unlike Hal to take a chance just at the wrong time. He
was forever doing it――and forever getting by with it! The crowd he
trained with thought it clever to show contempt for rules and had, as
Joe well knew, a long list of unpublished escapades to their credit; or
discredit. Oh, well, he should worry! What happened to Hal was none of
his business. He had plenty of troubles of his own; one of which was to
get the light out before “Granny” Maynard, second floor proctor, began
his nightly snooping expedition. However, there were still full three
minutes――
There was a sound at the open window. A hand slid over the sill and
then the upper part of a body appeared against the outer darkness.
“Give me a hand, Joe! That’s some climb. Thanks.” Hal Norwin swung
over the ledge, breathing hard but grinning in triumph. Then the grin
changed to a frown. “Rotten luck,” he continued. “I thought maybe
they’d forget to lock the door for once, but of course they didn’t.
And ‘Granny’ stuck his silly old bean out and saw me. I beat it around
back, but I’ll bet he recognized me. Got the door locked?”
Joe nodded. “Yes, but we’ll have to let him in if he comes. Funny he
hasn’t been around if he saw you.”
“Well,” panted Hal, “if he stays away another ten seconds I’ll beat
him.” He struggled out of his clothes rapidly. “But if he did recognize
me and reports me――well, you know the answer; probation for yours
truly! And pro doesn’t suit me just now; not with the Munson game the
day after to-morrow. There, now let him come! I――_listen_!”
There were footsteps in the corridor. Joe leaped toward the switch.
In the sudden darkness he heard Hal’s bed creak. The footfalls came
nearer. Joe, standing silent in the darkness, listened and hoped.
Perhaps Maynard was only making his rounds, after all. Perhaps he
hadn’t seen―― The steps stopped outside. There was a moment of
suspense. Then three brisk raps sounded.
“Pretend you’re asleep!” whispered Hal.
But Joe, remembering that he was still attired in his underclothes
and that he had but the moment before put the light out, saw the
uselessness of that. Instead, he fumbled his way to the door and
opened it. The proctor stood revealed in the dim light of the corridor.
“Norwin,” he began.
“I’m Kenton,” said Joe placidly. “What’s up?”
“Turn your light on, please.” Maynard pushed past Joe into the room.
The radiance showed the apparently sleeping form of Hal, a litter
of hurriedly discarded garments about his bed and Joe but partly
undressed. Maynard viewed the motionless form beneath the covers
perplexedly. Then:
“Which of you came in by the window just now?” he demanded.
“By the window!” echoed Joe incredulously. “What is it, a joke?”
“Now stop, Kenton!” Maynard raised a hand. He was tall and thin and
bespectacled, and had a way of holding his head slightly forward from
his shoulders as he talked, perhaps because the glasses did not quite
overcome his nearsightedness. “Don’t trouble to lie. I know what I’m
talking about, for I watched from the lavatory window and saw one of
you climb in there. And I’m pretty certain which one it was.” He turned
toward the form huddled under the covers. “I’m sorry,” he went on, “but
I’ll have to report you. I can’t understand your doing a crazy thing
like this, though.” His tone was indignant. “You must have known what
it meant to be caught. If you didn’t care on your own account you ought
to have realized what it would mean to the team, to the school. Hang
it, it isn’t fair to risk defeat just for the sake of some piffling
escapade in the village!”
The form under the bed-clothes stirred, an arm was thrust forth and Hal
groaned sleepily. Then, as though disturbed by the sound or the light,
he thrust the clothes down and blinked protestingly. It was a good
piece of acting. Joe wondered whether Maynard was deceived by it. It
was hard to tell.
“Put out that light, Joe,” muttered Hal. Then, wakefully: “Hello,
what’s the row?”
Maynard viewed him doubtfully. “I think you heard what I said,” he
observed.
“He says he saw some one climb in our window a while ago.” Joe nodded
smilingly at the proctor.
Hal turned and looked at the window, blinking and rubbing his eyes.
Then: “Wh-what for?” he asked stupidly.
“I don’t think he said,” replied Joe gravely. “You didn’t say, did you,
Maynard?”
“I’ve had my say.” The proctor turned toward the door. “I’m sorry,
fellows.”
“Just a minute!” said Joe. “Do you still think you saw――what you said,
Maynard?”
“Naturally.”
“And you feel that it’s――it’s up to you to spoil Saturday’s game?”
“It’s up to me to report to faculty. You should have thought of the
game before.”
“It seems sort of tough,” muttered Joe. Maynard flashed a puzzled look
at him. Hal sat up impulsively.
“Oh, well,” he began, “I suppose――”
“Never mind,” interrupted Joe, shrugging. “I can stand it, I guess.”
“You mean――it was you?” demanded Maynard, staring hard.
Joe shrugged again. “I thought you said you knew,” he scoffed.
“I think I do,” replied Maynard meaningly, with a quick side glance at
Hal’s troubled face. “But I can’t prove I’m right, I suppose. Seems to
me it would be the decent thing for one of you to own up, though.”
Again Hal started to speak and again Joe interrupted. “Oh, piffle,
Maynard! A fellow’s innocent until he’s proved guilty. Anyway, I guess
the――the circumstantial evidence is all you need.”
“All right, have it your way, Kenton. You know where the evidence
points. I’m sorry to have――I’m sorry it happened. Good night.”
“I’m sorry, too,” answered Joe soberly. “Good night, Maynard.”
The door closed behind the proctor and Joe snapped off the light. After
a long moment of silence: “What did you do that for?” demanded Hal,
truculently.
“Well, he was sure it was one of us. If I don’t play Saturday it won’t
much matter. If you don’t, it’ll matter a lot. You’re the only one of
us who can hit Cross, and unless some one hits him we’re going to get
licked. Besides, I didn’t lie to him.”
When Joe had struggled into his pajamas and crawled into bed Hal spoke
again. “Mighty decent of you,” he said. “Don’t know that I’d have done
it for you.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to. I didn’t do it for you, so that needn’t worry
you. I did it for the team; or the school; or maybe just because I want
to see Munson beaten.”
“Oh,” replied Hal in relieved tones. “That’s different!” A minute later
he added: “Sorry you’re in a mess, though.”
“That doesn’t matter. G’night!”
Doctor Whitlock seemed the next day much more grieved than Joe. Of
course, the doctor explained gently, it meant probation for the balance
of the term, and probation meant that he wouldn’t be allowed to take
part in athletics, but in view of the fact that Kenton had maintained
good standing for the school year and was well up near the head of his
class there would be no further――ah――penalties inflicted. Joe thanked
him gravely. Outside again, he laughed mirthlessly. Just what other
penalty, he wondered, did the principal think mattered now?
He and Hal had not mentioned last evening’s incident again. For that
matter, there had not been many opportunities, for they had seen each
other but a few minutes before breakfast. While dressing Hal had
seemed morose and out of sorts. After the interview in the office Joe
returned to Number 14. He might have gone over to the field and watched
practice, and would have done so if he hadn’t funked the explanations
that would have been required of him. There was a bad ten minutes just
at dusk when Bob Stearns came in. The captain was hurt rather than
angry and said one or two things that made Joe want to crawl under a
bed――or weep. But he went away finally, leaving Joe feeling very small
and mean, and liking Bob more than ever for the things he might have
said and hadn’t. Then there was another knock and Joe’s silence didn’t
protect him, for “Granny” Maynard opened the door and descried the lone
occupant of the study in the twilight.
“Mind if I come in a minute, Kenton?” he asked. “You know the fact is
I feel particularly rotten about what’s happened and I do wish it had
been some one else besides me. How bad did they treat you?”
“Not very, thanks. Pro, of course. You needn’t feel badly, though. You
only did what you had to.”
“I know, but――being proctor is fairly rotten sometimes. If it wasn’t
for the difference it makes in my term bill I’d quit it. But I really
can’t afford to. I suppose you’re out of the game to-morrow?”
“Oh, yes. But my being out of it won’t matter much.”
“Not so much as Norwin,” said Maynard significantly.
“Norwin? Oh, no! Hal’s the best player we’ve got. Don’t you think so?”
“I’m not much of an authority, but I’ve heard it said that he is.”
There was a moment of silence. “It’s none of my business, Kenton, but I
must say I think it was very decent of you.”
“Thanks,” replied the other dryly. “What?”
“I guess you know what I mean. I’d rather not put it in words
because――well, I’m not supposed to know anything about it.” Maynard
laughed as he arose. “As I said before, Kenton, I’m beastly sorry.” He
held out his hand and Joe, a trifle surprised, took it. “Hope we win
to-morrow, eh?”
“Rather!” agreed Joe. After Maynard had gone he frowned into the
darkness beyond the open window. “He knows. Or he thinks he knows.
Well, it doesn’t matter. Nothing does――much. I wonder if I told Hal the
truth last night, though. Did I do it for the school or didn’t I? Of
course I want Holman’s to win, but――I don’t know! But I’d hate to have
him suspect that――that――oh, shucks, that’s tommyrot! Why _should_ I do
it on his account? Of course I didn’t! Surly brute!”
Hal came in a few minutes later. He didn’t see Joe until he had turned
the light on. Then: “Hello!” he said awkwardly.
“Hello. How did practice go?”
“All right, I guess. Wilder played second.”
Joe nodded. “I supposed he would. That ought to please you.”
“Me? Why?”
“You wanted him there, didn’t you?”
“Sure! With you out of it――”
“I mean before. Last month.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, rot! You tried your best to get Wilder on second in place of me,
didn’t you?”
“Who told you that?” demanded Hal sternly.
“Why, I don’t know that any one exactly _told_ me. Anyhow, it didn’t
matter much. He’s got the place finally.”
“So you’ve been holding that in for me?” sneered Hal. “Let me tell you,
then, that I did not try to get Wilder on second. I didn’t even want
him there. Why would I? You’re the better player.”
“Oh!” murmured Joe, somewhat blankly.
“Yes, ‘oh!’” retorted the other. “I don’t say I wouldn’t have tried for
Wilder if I’d wanted him. But I just didn’t. Now chew that over.”
“All right. But I thought――”
“You’re always thinking something that isn’t so,” grumbled Hal. “I’ll
bet you’re doing it right now, too!”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re thinking that I――that I let you take the blame for last night
because I want to play to-morrow,” flared Hall. “I do, but, if that was
all I wouldn’t have let you. I’m standing for it because I know plaguey
well that if I don’t play we’ll get beaten. Oh, I dare say that sounds
cocky, but it’s so. I can hit Cross’s curves and not another one of you
fellows can come anywhere near ’em.”
“I know, and I’m not kicking, am I? I said it was me because I knew
we’d get ‘Finis’ written all over us if you were out of the game. So
what’s the use of chewing the rag about it now?”
“Because I won’t have you think I’m a――a sneak and a coward! And you do
think so――inside.”
“I don’t!”
Hal had come close and now he stood staring down at Joe menacingly.
“You don’t?” he demanded suspiciously.
“No, I don’t.”
“All right. _See_ that you don’t. If I thought you were lying I’d――I’d
knock your head off! Mind you, I appreciate what you’ve done for me――”
“_You!_” shouted Joe, jumping up. “For _you_? Don’t you dare say I did
it for you! I did it because I wanted to.” He waved a finger under the
other’s nose. “Just one more crack like that and I’ll punch your ugly
face in!”
“I didn’t mean me personally,” growled Hal. “Anyhow, we understand each
other, I guess.”