A PETITION
Phil, Tom and Sid stood staring blankly at one another. Sid still held
the broken hat, until Professor Tines came up and took it from him.
"Ruined, utterly ruined!" murmured the teacher. "My best hat!"
"We--I--that is I--didn't know it was your hat," stammered Tom. "I threw
the ball through it."
"You didn't know it was my hat?" asked Professor Tines, as if such
ignorance was inexcusable. "Whose did you suppose it was, pray?"
"Some galoot's--I mean some freshman's," stammered Phil. "You see, it
was hanging from a window in the freshmen's dormitory, and----"
"It was not hanging from the window of any student in the first year
class," declared the instructor pompously. "I had sent my silk hat
to one of the janitors, who makes a practice of ironing them. He had
finished it, and hung it out to air, when you--you vandals came along.
I distinctly saw you throw at my hat, sir," and Professor Tines shook
his finger at Tom.
"I--I know it, sir. I admit it," confessed the captain. "Only--only----"
"We didn't know it was your hat, sir," went on Sid. "I'm afraid it's
quite--quite unfit to wear, sir," and Sid tried to put the flapping
piece back into place, for the professor had dropped the tile, and Sid
had picked it up.
"Unfit to wear! I should say it was. Fit to wear! Why I intend
delivering a lecture on 'The Art of Repose as an Aid to High Thinking'
and now, sir--now, you young vandals have ruined the hat I was going to
wear! It's infamous--infamous! I shall have you expelled! I shall let
your parents know of your shameless conduct! I shall have you dismissed
at once!" and the irate professor shook his fist first at Tom, then at
Sid and then at Phil. "Your conduct is a disgrace to the school!" he
went on. "Here, give me my hat!" and he fairly snatched it from Sid.
"Come with me at once to Dr. Churchill. He shall know about this
outrage!"
"If you please, Professor Tines, we didn't know it was your hat," was
about all Phil could think of to say.
"So much the worse. You thought it belonged to some defenseless student,
and that you could ruin it with impunity. But I shall soon show you how
mistaken you were. Come with me at once!" and Professor Tines, holding
his hat in one hand, seized Tom's coat sleeve in the other, and led him
toward the president's office, followed by Phil and Sid.
"I--I have a tall hat, which I'll give you, until you can have this one
fixed," spoke Sid, as they walked along.
"Until I get this one fixed? It is beyond fixing!" declared Mr. Tines
wrathfully.
Good Dr. Churchill looked pained when the three culprits were ushered
into his presence.
"Look here, sir! Look here!" spluttered Professor Tines, his voice
fairly trembling as he thrust the battered hat close to the president,
who was near-sighted. "Just look at that, sir!"
"Ha! Hum!" murmured the doctor. "Very interesting, I should say. Very
interesting."
"Interesting?" and Mr. Tines stood aghast.
"Yes. I presume you have been illustrating to your class the effect of
some explosive agent on soft material. I should say it was a very
complete and convincing experiment--very complete, convincing and
interesting. I congratulate you."
"Congratulate! Interesting experiment!" gasped the irate "Pitchfork."
"Yes. It was very well done. My, my! The crown of the hat is almost
completely gone. Almost completely," murmured the doctor, looking
interestedly at the dilapidated tile. "What sort of an explosive did you
use, Professor Tines? I trust your class took careful notes of it."
"Explosion!" burst out Professor Tines, looking as if he was likely to
blow up himself. "That was no explosion, sir! My best hat was ruined by
a baseball in the hands of these vandals, sir! I demand their expulsion
at once."
"Baseball?" queried Doctor Churchill.
"I threw it, sir," declared Tom quickly. "I'm very sorry. I did not know
the hat belonged to Professor Tines, and I will pay for it at once," and
the captain made a motion toward his pocket.
"Let me have the whole story," requested the president, and Tom thought
there was a twinkle in his eyes. Professor Tines related most of it,
in his usual explosive fashion, and the lads could only plead guilty.
The owner of the hat ended by a demand for their dismissal, and Dr.
Churchill said he would take the matter under advisement, but there was
that in his manner which gave the culprits hope, and when he sent for
them a little later, it was to pass the sentence that the three of them
must go shares in buying a new hat. Tom wanted to stand all the damage,
but Dr. Churchill, with a half-laugh, said he must mete out punishment
all around.
"I say, will you lend me my share of the money, for a few days?" asked
Sid, of Tom, when they were on their way back to the room.
"Sure!" was the answer. "Say, what do you do with all your cash, Sid?"
for Mr. Henderson was known to be well off.
"I--er--Oh, I have uses for it," replied Sid, and he hurriedly turned
the conversation.
The nine played Richfield, a strong college team, on Saturday, and was
nearly beaten, for just when some good hitting was needed, Pete Backus,
who was filling Sid's place, went to the bad. Randall did manage to
get the lead of a run, and kept it, due mainly to Tom's magnificent
pitching, but the final score was nothing to boast of, though Randall
came home winners.
"We certainly do miss Sid," remarked Tom, as he was sitting beside Phil,
in the train on the way back. "If there's anything that's going to make
us win or lose the championship this year it's batting, and that's Sid's
strong point. I wish we could get him back on the team."
"Maybe we can."
"How?"
"By getting up a petition, and having all the fellows sign it. Maybe if
the faculty understood what it meant they would vote to rescind the
order not allowing Sid to take part in games."
"By Jove, it's worth trying!" cried Tom. "We'll do it! I'll go talk
with Ed Kerr and Mr. Leighton."
The manager and coach thought the plan a good one, and a few days later
a petition was quietly circulated. Nothing was said to Sid about it, for
fear he would object. The students were anxious to get their names down,
and soon there was an imposing list.
"I want to get the freshmen now," decided Tom, one afternoon, when the
petition was nearly ready for presentation. "I'm making a class affair
of it, each year's students by themselves, and I let the freshmen go
until last. I'll see Bascome, who is the class president, ask him to
call a meeting, and have his fellows sign."
Tom sought out Bascome a little later, and explained what was wanted,
asking the freshman to call a session of his classmates.
"In other words you want me and my friends to help you out of a hole?"
asked Bascome, and he was sneering.
"That's about it," answered Tom, restraining a desire to punch the
overbearing freshman. "We want to strengthen the nine, and we can do
it if we can get Henderson back on it."
"Then you'll never get him back with my signature nor that of my
friends!" cried Bascome. "I'll get even with you fellows now, for
the way you've treated me!"
He was sneering openly. Tom looked him full in the face.
"You sneaking little cad," was what he said, as he turned away.