TWO OF A KIND
"There is another resignation to act on," said Dr. Rudden, after a
pause, and, somehow he did not seem half as worried over it as Luke
had hoped he would be. "What shall we do with it?"
"Take it!" exclaimed Tom, and it was accepted with a promptness that
startled the former captain.
"The action taken to-night makes it necessary to elect a new manager
and a captain," went on the professor. "Perhaps the manager should be
elected first. Whom will you have?"
"Peaches Lantfeld," called some.
"Teeter Nelson," said others.
"George Bland! Sister Davis! Ward Gerard! Tommy Barton," called various
lads. There were more nominations, but Peaches received the majority of
votes, and was declared elected. Teeter was the first to congratulate
him, and the others followed.
"Now a captain," suggested the chairman.
"Joe Matson!" yelled scores of voices.
"No, I can't accept," cried Joe, jumping to his feet. "If I'm going to
pitch I want to give all my time to that. I'm much obliged, but I
decline."
"I think it would not be wise to make your pitcher the captain,
especially at this time," spoke Dr. Rudden. "The catcher is in a better
position to captain a team, for he can see all the plays. You will have
to have a new catcher, and----"
"Ward Gerard!" called Joe. "He's caught for me on the scrub, and----"
"Ward! Ward Gerard!" Scores of lads took up the calling of his name. He
was very popular, and was elected in a minute, while Hiram and Luke,
followed by Jake Weston, filed from the room in plainly-shown disgust,
sneers on their faces.
Nothing more remained to do save to have a conference of the new captain
and manager, to arrange for future practice and playing. This was soon
done, and Ward told the lads to report early the next Monday afternoon,
when they would play the scrub, which organization had also to select a
new captain and pitcher, as well as catcher.
"Now, all I want is to get Tom Davis on the school nine, and I'll be
happy," said Joe to Peaches and Teeter, as the meeting broke up.
"I think you can," declared Teeter. "Jake Weston is going to get out, I
hear, and Tom will fit in. Charlie Borden can take Jake's place at short
and Tom can play first, which he's used to. Oh, I guess old Excelsior
Hall has come into her own again, and we'll make some of these other
teams sit up and take notice."
And Jake did resign, following the example of his two cronies. This made
a place for Tom, and he promptly filled it.
There was a snap and a vim to the playing of the school nine when they
first went at it with the changed players, that fairly took the breath
out of the scrub. Of course that unfortunate collection of players was
weakened by the withdrawal of Joe, Ward and Tom, but even with players
of equal strength it is doubtful if they could have held the school nine
down.
Joe and his mates struck a winning streak, and the young pitcher never
was better than in that practice game on Monday afternoon.
"Joe's pitching his head off," observed Tom Davis, and when Ward missed
holding one or two particular "hot" ones he thought the same thing. The
school team won a decisive victory.
"But that doesn't mean we will beat Trinity on Saturday," said Peaches,
the new manager. "Don't begin to take it easy, fellows. And then follows
the second game in the series with Morningside. We've got to get that or
those boys will think they've gotten into the habit of beating us."
"We'll trim 'em both!" cried Tom.
"Sure," assented Joe. It was like old times now, he reflected, he and
Tom together on a team as they had been on the Silver Stars. The only
thing that worried Joe was the theft of his father's papers and patent
models. He knew it would mean a serious loss to his parents, and Joe was
rather in fear that he might have to leave boarding school.
"If I have to go away, I hope it won't be until after I have helped win
back the Blue Banner," he confided to Tom.
"Oh, don't worry," advised his chum; and a few days later Joe received a
letter from home, telling him the same thing.
Mr. Matson wrote that whereas the loss would badly cripple him, yet he
did not want Joe to worry.
The game with Trinity was a source of delight to the Excelsior team.
Their rivals came to the diamond battlefield eager for a victory, and
they worked hard for it, but the new combination was too much for them.
When the final run was chalked up the score stood:
Excelsior Hall, 11; Trinity, 4.
"That's what we want to do to Morningside," said Tom.
"And we will!" predicted Joe.
They had hard practice before the second game with their ancient
rivals--for Morningside was a foe whom Excelsior Hall was always eager
to beat. In the series for the possession of the Blue Banner she had
three games with Morningside and a like number with the other teams in
the league.
It was the day of the second Morningside game, and it was to take place
on the Excelsior diamond. The weather could not have been better. Spring
was just merging into Summer, and the lads were on their mettle. There
had been a big improvement in their playing, and they were ready to do
battle to a finish.
Luke and Hiram had not been much in evidence since their resignations.
They occasionally came to a game, or to practice, but they made sneering
remarks, and few of the students had anything to do with them. It was
quite a jolt for Hiram, used as he was to running matters to suit
himself.
The crowd began arriving early at the Excelsior diamond, for word had
gone around that it was to be a game for "blood," and both teams were
on edge. If Excelsior had improved, so had Morningside. They had
strengthened their men by long, hard practice, and they were confident
of victory.
Joe and Tom had expected before this to hear something about their old
enemy, Sam Morton, at Morningside, but the former pitcher for the Silver
Stars was seldom mentioned. However, it was learned that he was to
substitute in the Morningside-Excelsior game.
Out on the diamond trotted the renovated Excelsior nine. They were
received with a burst of applause, and at once got to practice. A little
later out came their rivals, and there was a cheer for them. Immediately
the opposition cheering and shouting contingents got busy, and there was
a riot of sound.
"Going to stay and see the game?" asked Luke of Hiram, as they entered
the gate.
"Yes, might as well. Gee! But I hope our fellows lose!"
Nice sentiments, weren't they for an Excelsior student? But then Hiram
was very sore and angry.
"So do I," added Luke. "It would show them what a mistake they made by
dropping us."
"That's right," agreed the conceited Hiram. "If they had only waited
we'd have come out all right. It was all the fault of Joe Matson and Tom
Davis. I'll get square with 'em yet."
They strolled over the grounds, winding in and out amid the throngs.
They almost collided with a Morningside player.
"Beg your pardon," murmured Luke. "Oh, it's Sam Morton," he added, for
he had met Sam in town a week or so previously. "Have you met Hiram
Shell, Sam," and he introduced the two.
"Oh, yes, you're the manager of the Excelsiors," said Sam. "Glad to know
you. I think we'll beat you again. I may pitch after the fifth inning.
I'm only the sub now, but I expect to be the regular soon."
"I _was_ manager," replied Hiram bitterly, "but Joe Matson and his crowd
put up a game on me, and I resigned."
"Joe Matson, eh? He's the same fellow who made a lot of trouble for me."
"Excuse me," murmured Luke. "I see a friend of mine. I'm going to leave
you for a minute."
"All right," assented Hiram. "So Joe Matson made trouble for you, too,
eh?" he went on to Sam, curiously.
"Yes, he played a mean trick on me, and took my place as pitcher," which
wasn't exactly true, as my old readers know. "I'd like to get square
with him some way," concluded Sam.
"Say, so would I!" exclaimed Hiram eagerly. "Shake hands on that. He's a
low sneak, and he played a mean trick on me. I'd do anything to get
even."
"Maybe we can," suggested Sam.
"How?"
"Oh, lots of ways. Come on over here where no one will hear us. Maybe we
can fix up some scheme on him. I'd give a good deal to get even."
"So would I," added Hiram. "I wish I could get him off the nine, and out
of the school."
"I'll help you," proposed Sam eagerly; and then the two, who were very
much of a kind when it came to disliking our hero, walked off,
whispering together.
"Play ball!" came the distant cry of the umpire, and the great
Excelsior-Morningside game was about to start. But the plotters did
not turn back to watch it.