KIDNAPPED
“What’s the matter?” asked Steve Brown, as, helping Sam to his feet, he
heard the latter groan.
“I twisted my knee,” muttered Sam, testing his right leg and flinching
as he put his weight on it. “Threw it out of joint, I guess, when he
slid into me. It will be all right in a minute.”
“Here, come over to the bench and sit down. I’ll rub it for you. Hold
on, fellows! Mr. Craig’s hurt his knee. Don’t crowd around, please.”
“What’s that?” demanded Mr. Langham’s voice. “Sam Craig hurt?” The
Chief pushed his way to the bench where Steve was already briskly
massaging the injured limb. “Anything broken, Sam?” he asked anxiously.
“No, sir, not a thing. I just slipped my knee out of place and it’s
sort of sore. It will be all right in a minute, I think.”
“Better come up to the camp,” said Mr. Scovill, who had followed Mr.
Langham. “We can help you up there and then you can get your things
off and put some cold water on it. You can hobble up if we give you a
lift, can’t you?”
“Yes, sir, thanks. Don’t bother, please. It’s all right. Did anyone
pick up my mask?”
“I got it,” said Tom Crossbush. “I don’t know what became of the ball,
though. Did you drop it, Mr. Craig?”
Sam smiled a little and held out one hand, and the others laughed, for
there was the battered ball, very tightly clenched. Sam yielded it
then, allowed Steve to unbuckle his protector and, between Steve and
Mr. Gifford, followed the throng up the hill. Mount Placid had cheered
The Wigwam and The Wigwam had cheered its defeated host; and Greenwood
had impartially cheered both. And now, talking excitedly, explaining,
laughing, the boys were climbing the path to camp. Mr. York joined the
“ambulance corps,” as he called it, and expressed regrets for Sam’s
injury.
“I know what it’s like,” he said as he walked alongside. “I used
to have a way of putting my wrist out of joint every little while
when I was a youngster, and I still remember just how nasty it felt
when it slipped into place again and how sore the muscles used to
be afterwards. A cold compress is what you want, Craig, and then,
to-morrow, a good rubbing with liniment. Better not try to walk on it
for a day or so, though.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to,” responded Sam cheerfully. “You see, we’re
going on to-morrow morning, Mr. York. Going to hike back to Indian
Lake.”
“I guess you won’t do much hiking,” was the reply.
“Certainly not,” confirmed Mr. Langham. “We’ll put it off a day. That
is----” He stopped and frowned. “Well, we’ll talk about it later.”
“I think I’ll be all right by morning, Chief,” said Sam.
“We’ll see, we’ll see, Sam. Mr. York, I want to thank you, sir, for
the service you performed for us. It was very kind of you, very kind
indeed. And I don’t believe anyone could have umpired more--er--more
impartially, sir.”
“Oh, I enjoyed it,” answered Mr. York, with a jovial laugh. “You
couldn’t have kept me away if you’d tried. By the way, Mr. Langham----”
The two dropped behind and remained in conversation until the camp was
reached. Sam was taken over to the dormitory where the visitors were
to sleep and, Steve and Mr. Langham assisting, got out of his clothes
and had a wet bandage wrapped around his knee. The knee was swollen and
lame, and Mr. Gifford shook his head over it.
“It will feel a lot better to-morrow, Sam,” he said, “but you’ll not be
able to do much walking inside of a couple of days, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll make out somehow,” replied Sam. “You needn’t think you’re going
to do me out of my fun.”
“A lot of fun you’d have,” said Steve grimly. “Best thing for you to
do is to stay right here for another day and then catch up with us by
train. We won’t make more than fifteen miles to-morrow, I guess.”
“Well, if it isn’t all right, I suppose I’ll have to,” answered Sam
regretfully. “I don’t quite see how I managed to do such a fool stunt.”
“The Chief said something about waiting another day,” remarked Mr.
Gifford, “but I’m afraid he can’t do that. In the first place, we’re
putting a lot of these chaps out of their beds--some of them are
sleeping on the floor in the other dormitories; and in the second
place, if we’re to get back in time to get ready for Visitors’ Day we
can’t afford to lose much time.”
“I wouldn’t want him to wait on my account,” said Sam. “If I can’t go
with you to-morrow I’ll catch up the next day. Hang the luck, anyway!”
“Never mind,” said Steve soothingly. “You made a peach of a catch, Sam,
and we beat ’em!” Just then Mr. Collins and Mr. Williams entered to
tell Sam how sorry they were, Mr. Collins expressing the fear that the
injury was his fault.
“I’m afraid I went into you pretty hard,” he said. “Awfully sorry.
About all I was thinking of was beating out that ball!”
“It wasn’t any fault of yours, sir,” Sam assured him. “Somehow in
trying to get the ball on you I gave my leg a twist. I--I’m sorry we
couldn’t both win that game.”
“That’s all right. The Chief has promised to take us down to call on
you fellows next summer. Then look out for us!”
“We’ll be mighty glad to see you,” said Mr. Gifford. “I’m afraid we
can’t treat you as handsomely as you have us, Mr. Collins, but we’ll do
our best; even to beating you again, if possible!”
“We’ll see about that,” Mr. Williams laughed. “You chaps certainly
played a good game, though, and you deserved to win. Mr. Craig, you’d
better stay right here with us until that knee’s all right. We’ll look
after you finely.”
“I heard the Chief say that Mr. York had invited Mr. Craig down to
his place,” said Mr. Collins. “You’d better go, Mr. Craig. He’s got a
mighty comfortable house down there and I guess he’d be able to give
you rather a better bed than we can.”
“Why, I--I guess I’d just as lief stay here,” murmured Sam, “if you
don’t mind having me. I’m hoping, though, that I’ll be all right
to-morrow.”
“Well, if you’re not we’ll be glad to have you stay here as long as you
care to. I’ll see that you have some supper sent over. And if there’s
anything else you can think of--How about having a doctor look at that
knee, Mr. Gifford? There’s one a couple of miles from here and I can
get him on the ’phone in a minute.”
“What do you say, Sam?” asked Mr. Gifford. Sam shook his head
decisively.
“No, indeed, thanks! It’s quite all right now. And I don’t think
you need to send my supper here. I guess I can hobble over to the
dining-hall without trouble.”
“Better not try it,” said Mr. Collins. “Rest up to-night and you’ll
feel better for it to-morrow.”
So Sam made the best of it where he was. The knee ached dully, but
didn’t worry him much as long as he kept it quiet. Mr. Williams loaded
him with magazines and papers and for an hour and more he lay there
and read and listened to the sounds that came from outside. Now and
then one of the boys would tiptoe in to express embarrassed regrets.
He heard the cheers that were exchanged when Greenwood started back to
camp, and, later, the sound of voices as The Wigwam boys trooped past
to supper. Steve appeared a few minutes after that with a well-laden
tray, and, when he had changed the bandage on the injured knee,
helped Sam into a sitting position and placed the tray before him.
Sam discovered that his appetite was excellent and that the supper,
generous as it was, was none too much to satisfy it.
The light was too dim now to read by, so, setting the tray on the
floor, he straightened out and fell to thinking about things. He
went over the afternoon’s game again and, which was like him, viewed
his own work critically and pointed out to himself the mistakes he
had made. There was that time, for instance, when he had been caught
flat-footed off third. Sam grunted disgustedly as he recalled the
incident. Then, too, he had more than once failed to work the batter
right. That bunt of Mr. Collins’ in the sixth inning--or had it been
the seventh?--should never have been allowed him. And then----
But at that moment there were voices outside and then footsteps on the
porch and Mr. Langham and York came in. After inquiring about the knee,
Mr. Langham said:
“Sam, Mr. York here wants to kidnap you.”
Sam smiled a little doubtfully, inquiringly.
“Yes, Craig,” said the second visitor, “I want to take you down to my
place until you get ready to join your crowd. I’ve got lots of room
down there; half a dozen bedrooms standing idle, in fact. Of course,
Mr. Scovill will be glad to have you stay here if you’d rather, but
I fancy you’ll be a lot more comfortable with me. I’ve spoken to him
about it and he says I can have you. And Mr. Langham’s agreed, too.
Now what do you say?”
“Why--thank you very much,” stammered Sam, “but I guess I won’t bother
you. I dare say that by morning this knee will be all right. I’d like
to start with the others if I could, sir.” The latter part of the
remark was addressed to Mr. Langham.
“Of course, Sam, but it would be silly for you to try any walking just
yet. You’d be so lame to-morrow night you might have to lie up longer
than you will now. And I’m afraid there’d be no place to stay. You
do just as you like about visiting Mr. York, but, in any case, don’t
consider going with us in the morning. I’d wait a day for you, but it
would make us pretty late in getting home. You keep still for a day or
two and then join us by train. I’ve written down the route here and our
probable location the day after to-morrow and the day after that. If
you shouldn’t feel fit enough to join us before Monday, why, you come
right back to camp. Maybe you’d better do that, anyhow, Sam, and not
try walking.”
“I’d rather do part of the trip with you, anyway, if I can, sir. And I
should think that if I kept quiet to-morrow I’d ought to be able to
meet you the next day.”
“Suit yourself. We’ll be glad to see you when you come. Meanwhile, if I
were you I’d accept Mr. York’s offer. He’s got his car here and I guess
we can fix you so it won’t hurt much.”
“He’s very kind,” faltered Sam, not over-enthusiastically. Mr. York
laughed.
“Don’t come if you’d rather not, Craig,” he said. “I only thought it
would be easier for you and a pleasure for me. If you’d rather stay
here, don’t hesitate. I’ll run up to-morrow and see how you are.”
“It would be an awful bother for you, sir,” said Sam.
“Not a bit of bother, old man! I’d be plaguey glad to have you. We
could talk baseball to our heart’s content. And there are one or two
things I’d like to tell you about.” Mr. Langham chuckled softly and Mr.
York turned to him with a laugh. “Not that at all, Mr. Langham! Still,
for that matter, you’ve given me the right of way.”
“Oh, yes,” replied the Chief, “there are no strings. But just remember
what I predicted.”
“I dare say you were right. And, anyway, I promise to play fair.”
Sam looked puzzledly from one to the other. There was something here
that he didn’t understand.
“Well, what do you say, Craig?” asked Mr. York. “Going to come along
and be company for me for a day or two?”
“Thank you, yes, sir, if you’re quite sure----”
“Absolutely certain, old man! Now, where’s your bag? And how about
dressing? Not necessary, is it, Mr. Langham? A couple of blankets
wrapped around him will do the trick, eh? All right! I’ll bring the car
up to the steps.”