“How’s everything, Chip?”
“Great, Mr. Trayne! We’re going to do some topside playing this
afternoon!”
“Glad to hear it,” said the coach, with a smile. “Have you decided to
keep Kess at second?”
“If you approve, sir. Lowe at third, Harker at short, and O’Day
in Villum’s place in right. It’s a new line-up, but I think it’s
tremendously strengthened.”
Coach Trayne nodded quick assent.
“You’ve done wonders with those chaps already, Chip! Crockett was a
dandy captain, but he seemed content to keep the men in their old
positions. This change of yours is going to give the fans a big
surprise.”
“And a pleasant one, I hope.” Merry’s smile suddenly died away. “Only
I’m not quite certain about the pitching end.”
“What!” Coach Trayne’s face expressed sudden concern. “Aren’t you going
in?”
“I hope so. But I was thinking what would happen if anything went
wrong with me, or if I got pounded badly. You see, Randall is our best
substitute man, and he’s been acting badly lately. He refused to come
out to practice the last two days, and virtually announced that he was
through with baseball.”
“I know,” and the coach looked worried. “Personally, I’d like to kick
him around the block, Chip! But for the school’s sake we ought to try
to placate him.”
It was late Saturday morning, the day of the game with the Carsonville
Clippers. Everything looked bright for Fardale. The Clippers were due
to arrive on the noon train, and, as their reputation was great, a
record crowd was expected. Word had spread around that this might be
Chip Merriwell’s last game for the season, and excitement was intense.
“I wouldn’t worry, though,” advised the coach. “You’re all right, old
man, and those Clippers will never get to you. We won’t need Randall.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Trayne. The Clippers are amateurs, but they’re crack
players. Still, I wasn’t thinking of the game alone. I may go away next
week, and if Randall can only be brought into a right frame of mind,
he’d make a great captain.”
Trayne flung him a keen look.
“Do you mean it? After the way he’s acted toward you----”
“Yes,” said Chip soberly, “I think that he’s merely viewed things
wrongly, and I feel now that he’d make the best captain of any one on
the team. I think I’ll run up to his room right now, Mr. Trayne. I’ll
have a frank talk with him, and it may be that I can win him around.”
“That’s not a bad idea, Merriwell. If you can do so, it’ll surely be
a great good thing for Fardale. We can’t afford to have a man of his
caliber brooding over his imagined wrongs. Good luck to you, and let me
know how he shows up.”
“I will,” said Chip, and he turned away toward the barracks.
As regarded his leaving Fardale, Chip himself knew very little. He had
heard from his father that they were going West, together with Dick
Merriwell, and that he must hold himself in readiness to leave when his
father sent for him at a moment’s notice. Therefore, it was possible
that this was his last diamond work for Fardale.
The cause of this summons was a mystery to him, but he knew that he
would find out in due course. In fact, he was looking forward to the
trip with no little anticipation. Frank Merriwell, junior, was a chip
of the old block in nickname and in fact, and he knew that with his
father and his Uncle Dick he was apt to experience a lively time.
He quickly made his way to the room in barracks occupied by Bob
Randall. At his knock, the Southerner’s voice called “Come in!” and
Frank entered.
“You!”
Randall came to his feet, fists clenched and eyes flashing. He had
been sitting beside a table, on which lay a pitcher of water and some
books. Evidently he had been trying to get through some study.
“I’d like a talk with you, Bob,” said Merry quietly. He took no heed of
the other’s constrained attitude.
“Sit down,” said Randall, his innate hospitality showing through his
anger. “I’m rather surprised to find you coming here, Merriwell.”
“I thought you would be,” and Frank coolly plunged into the discussion,
without any false premises. “I’ve observed that you’re worked up over
something, Randall. More than one fellow has told me that you’re sore
at me over my getting elected captain, and I wanted to straighten
things out with you if I could.”
Randall trembled with anger, and seemed on the point of a violent
outburst. Then he made an effort and curbed himself. Forcing his voice
down, he spoke slowly and with apparent calmness, which did not deceive
Frank.
“That’s quite right, Merriwell. You fooled me at the time, but I’ve
been thinking it over since then, and I’ve seen how you jockeyed me out
of that election. Naturally, it looked like anything but gentleman’s
work.”
Chip flushed a little.
“I think you’ve made a big mistake, old man,” he returned. “I thought
you understood me better than that, and I can’t see how you imagine
that I didn’t play fair.”
“Perhaps you did, from your viewpoint. You kept Clancy and Billy Mac
out of the game and smashed up the team. Then, when I was beaten, you
sailed on the field, slapped the team together, and won out. That’s why
you got elected. I’d have won with the whole team behind me, and you
know it!”
“Keep your temper,” Chip said crisply. “You’re away off, Bob. I was
kidnaped, and those two fellows pulled me out. If you’d won the game
I’d have been the first to congratulate you. As it was, I had already
proposed you for captain, if you’ll believe it.”
“You had?”
“Yes. Ask Coach Trayne or any of the fellows. I don’t think you’ve
given me a square deal in this, Bob, and yet I can see how you look at
it. I’m sorry that I didn’t come to you before and have it out frankly,
but I’ve been pretty busy, and didn’t understand just what was behind
it all.”
Randall was not at all convinced. He stared down at the table, and his
eye fell on a tiny folded paper inserted in his Cicero. His cheeks
flushed a trifle, and he gave an imperceptible start.
“In that case,” he said slowly, his clenched hands at his sides in
self-repression, “I--I may have been wrong. But it seemed to me
that you hadn’t been the one to hand out a square deal, Merry. I was
helpless in trying to fight you for an elective office. Everybody
around here seems to toady to the Merriwells----”
“Hold on, right there, Bob,” Chip interrupted quickly, his eyes
flashing with a hint of anger.
“You know that’s not the case. If there’s any one who hates to be
truckled to and toadied to, I’m the one. I didn’t go after the
captaincy, in this particular instance, and it was handed to me before
I knew it. As to toadying, you ought to know the fellows too well to
lay that charge, Bob.”
“Haven’t you everything your own way?” demanded Randall. His eyes still
held to that folded scrap of paper, and his face looked troubled. “You
run everything around here, and nobody else gets a look-in----”
“Old man, for Heaven’s sake get your brain untangled!” Chip leaned
forward earnestly, setting aside his own irritation. “I don’t want to
run anything. Whatever I have done has been done for Fardale, and I’ve
had nothing further in view than the best good of the school. Let me
prove this by something which I ought not to tell you.”
He found Randall staring at him with a peculiar look, and fancied that
his words were bearing fruit.
“I was just talking to Coach Trayne about who will be elected captain
if I have to leave school--which may be at any minute now. I urged you
for the place, since I honestly believe that you’re the man for it. He
could not understand why I overlooked the way you have acted lately,
until I explained that I hoped to talk it over with you and straighten
things out for the good of Fardale. I don’t care a whoop about myself,
Randall. I’m only thinking of the school, and I want you to do the
same. Now, slip into your things and come over to the gym with me. The
fellows will know that the hatchet’s been buried, and you will leap up
at a bound in their estimation, and everybody will be happy. Will you
do it, old fellow?”
Randall had turned, and was gazing out of the window. Merriwell could
not see the dark flush of anger that flitted across his face, but after
a moment he heard the low and tense voice of Randall.
“I’ll do it, Chip. I’m sorry.”
Randall turned quickly to the closet and pulled out his shoes, for he
had been at work in bath robe and slippers.
“Good!” Frank cried, in delight. “Get on your duds, and we’ll forget it
all!”
He walked over to the window, looking out on the campus, and stood
watching the flitting crowd below. Randall had come around all right,
he thought, and, with a little careful handling, would soon be his old
self.
Meantime, however, Randall had given a quick glance at his back. A
crafty smile leaped to his face, and, while still watching Merriwell’s
motionless figure, he reached out and seized the folded paper.
Tearing off one end with a quick motion, he emptied a flickering white
powder into the glass that stood beside the pitcher. Still covertly
eying Chip, he deftly obtained a second glass from the closet shelf and
placed it on the opposite side of the pitcher. Then he poured water
into both glasses.
The white powder dissolved instantly. At the sound of the pouring
water, Merry turned, and Randall straightened up with a smile that set
queerly on his features.
“I say, Merry,” he called, with seeming candor, “let’s drink a
toast to the success of the team to-day, and the continuance of our
friendship--a toast in aqua pura!”
“Bully!”
Merriwell stepped forward, with a smile. At this instant there was a
sudden interruption, however.
The door was flung open, and a panting cadet orderly appeared as the
startled Randall swung round.
“Mr. Randall! Colonel Gunn wants to see you at once in his office.”
This summons could mean only one thing--trouble. Randall had already
slipped into his clothes, and he seized his hat, instantly forgetting
everything else. Was it possible that his visit to the village of the
previous night had been discovered?
“Wait for me, Merry,” he said hastily. “I’ll probably be right back!”
“I’ll be here, old man,” Chip assured him, and Randall left hurriedly
with the orderly.