THE STORY IS TOLD.
The action of the football men in postponing the selection of a captain
had caused a good deal of surprise. Parker had a big following in his
own class, which was anxious to see him chosen as the gridiron leader,
and he was enough of a politician to stir up a good deal of comment.
Moreover, he spread in all directions the statement that it was Dick
Merriwell who had caused the adjournment without action.
“I don’t care for myself,” Parker said, sitting on the junior fence and
addressing a number of his admiring classmates. “But it’s a bad
principle. We’ve always had self-government in sports here at Yale, and
I don’t see why this Merriwell should be allowed to come in and disturb
all our traditions and upset our plans. We should have elected a captain
to-day, whether it was Jackson or myself.
“I would have been perfectly willing to give way to Jackson if it had
seemed as if most of the fellows wanted him, but there was no reason why
I should withdraw when I was sure of a majority of the votes on the
second ballot. And Taylor was talking to Merriwell and Tom Sherman just
before the meeting. He told them what to do—and every one knows how they
did it.”
Steve Carter, third basemen on the baseball team, who had once thought
the baseball captaincy such a prize that he had been willing to stoop to
a dishonorable trick to spoil Jim Phillips’ chance of getting it away
from him, spoke up warmly in defense of Dick Merriwell.
“I don’t believe Merriwell influenced any one to vote against you,
Parker,” he said. “His interest is to have the best man in college
elected to the captaincy of every team. It doesn’t make any difference
how good a coach may be, he can’t do anything here or at any other
college unless the captain of the team backs him up and supports him
loyally all the time. And I know that every man on the football team who
voted against you would have done the same thing if Merriwell had made a
speech in your favor before the meeting and done his best to have you
elected.”
Parker was furious. He stripped off his coat, and moved threateningly
toward Carter.
“I’ll make you fight for that,” he said savagely. “No man can talk to me
that way without giving me satisfaction.”
But Carter held his ground without flinching, big as Parker was.
“Don’t be a fool, Parker,” he said. “In the first place, I didn’t say
anything insulting to you, and you know it. You’re just trying to start
trouble to show what a big boss you are. And in the second place, I’m on
the baseball team, and I couldn’t fight you until after the training
season, no matter what you did.”
“Any port in a storm,” sneered Parker, resuming his coat. “That’s a good
way to get out of a licking after you’ve provoked a man to the point of
giving it to you.”
But Parker went too far when he said that. His own friends cried out
that he was unfair; that Carter, as he said, had said nothing to make a
fight necessary, and that, even had he done so, training rules made it
necessary for hostilities to be postponed until baseball was at an end
for the year.
“Perhaps you won’t feel so good about Merriwell and his gang when you
see your baseball captaincy taken away from you by Jim Phillips,”
sneered Parker. “That’s their little game, if you haven’t had sense
enough to see it for yourself. You think you’re sure to be elected.
Don’t be surprised when you find them expecting you to take your orders
on the field from Phillips next season.”
“It won’t surprise me at all,” said Carter, with a smile. “I’m not
looking for the captaincy. When it comes time for the election, I’m
going to nominate Phillips myself and try to have the election made
unanimous. If ever a man deserved a captaincy, he’s the one!”
Parker was furious. He had no love for Carter, but the junior was
necessary in his plans, and he had never suspected that Carter had given
up his own well-known and honorable ambition to lead the Yale baseball
team in his senior year. If Carter would not aid his fight, even
passively, how could he hope to defeat Merriwell and Phillips, who, as
he saw them, were allies, trying to get hold of the chief power in all
Yale athletics.
“Well,” he cried, carried away by his anger, and led into a rash move he
had not contemplated; “Jim Phillips won’t be captain of any Yale team, I
guess. He’s a professional. He’s played ball for money. They’ve caught
him with the goods. There’s a receipt for a registered letter in the
possession of people who have shown it to the Harvard team, and that
letter contained a hundred dollars. That’s what he got for playing for
the country club team the other day. How does your little good boy look
now?”
If to create a sensation was all that Parker wanted, he certainly
succeeded most brilliantly. He was surrounded in a moment by an eager
crowd, that demanded details, most of them scoffing at the idea that
such a charge could be true, but some, who, for one reason or another,
were jealous of the sophomore pitcher, inclined to rejoice mightily in
the news that he was in danger of disgrace.
Carter waited only long enough to hear exactly what sort of charges
these were that were being made, then hurried off to see Dick Merriwell
and tell him what had happened. He was furious, but not by any means
dismayed. It never even entered his head that Jim could be guilty of
such a thing. The enmity between them was something that had been buried
deep, and he was now loyal to Jim in spirit as well as in action, and
his first thought was to go to Jim’s most powerful friend, who might,
for all he knew, be in ignorance of what Parker had said, that steps for
his defense might be promptly taken.
It was important news he brought, as Dick Merriwell at once recognized.
The universal coach knew already more of the charge than Carter could
tell him. But that Parker, of all men in Yale, shared his knowledge, and
was busily engaged in spreading a scandal that, until it was proved to
the hilt, most Yale men would have kept strictly to themselves, was a
surprising and illuminating fact.
“There can’t be any mistake about this, can there?” asked Dick, when he
had heard Carter’s story. “Parker was actually the first man to tell the
story? He couldn’t have heard it talked of about the campus and just
repeated it as a bit of gossip?”
“He certainly could not,” said Steve Carter. “He knew all about it, and
he was so mad at me for saying that I wasn’t going to run against
Phillips for the baseball captaincy that he blurted it out without doing
much thinking about it. I don’t believe he’d have started it at all if
he’d known what he was doing. But his temper got the best of him, and
when he once started, he had said so much that he had to keep on.”
The universal coach was very thoughtful for a moment.
“It’s good and it’s bad,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry the news is out,
because it will be all over town, and it’s almost sure to get into the
papers. The Harvard people were very decent. They simply made their
protest and supplied us with the facts they had learned, leaving us to
investigate, to report to them, and to do as we liked about making it
public. I wonder how Parker heard about it. I certainly haven’t said
anything and the only others who know anything about it are Jim himself
and Bill Brady, who have given me their promise not to talk about it. I
haven’t even told Tom Sherman about it yet.”
“If you ask me,” said Carter hotly, “it looks as if some sort of a
conspiracy was on foot against Jim.”
He flushed, but went on bravely:
“We know there have been attempts of that sort before, because I was
mixed up in one of them myself. Doesn’t it seem to you, Mr. Merriwell,
that some one may be at work again, trying to do Jim up and make him
look like a professional just to drive him off the team and keep him out
of the captaincy?”
“It looks very much like that to me,” said the universal coach gravely.
“And it’s a very hard charge to meet. The time is very short, and the
evidence against Jim is very convincing.”
Then, feeling that as Carter knew so much, he had better hear the whole
story, he told him of the episode of the missing registered letter, the
receipt for which made up the real evidence against Jim.
Carter whistled.
“Well,” he said, “it ought to be easy to trace that letter. It seems to
me it’s a sure thing that some one must have stolen it. And that’s a
pretty serious offense. They wouldn’t dare destroy it, it seems to me.
They might want to produce the letter later, in such a way as to make it
look as if Jim had kept it hidden all the time. I should say that the
best thing to do would be to keep a careful watch on Jim’s place, and
make sure that no one gets away with any trick of that sort there. When
people do a crooked thing like that, they almost always overreach
themselves by trying to accomplish too much. That was the trouble when
that scoundrel Harding was using me to make trouble for Jim.”
“You’ve certainly helped a lot by hearing that and coming to me,” said
Dick heartily. “And you’ve given me an idea, beside, that I ought to
have thought of myself. Can I count on you to help me in this business?”
“You certainly can,” said Carter impulsively. “Just tell me what to do,
and if it can be done, you can be sure that I’ll do it. I’d give a good
deal to see Parker’s goose cooked. And I think he’s at the head of the
whole business. Moreover, it isn’t Jim he’s after, especially. He’s
hitting at you through him. If he’s elected captain of the football
team, he’ll make all the trouble for you that he can.”
“I hadn’t thought of that, either,” said Dick grimly. “That makes me
just a little angrier than I was before. The idea that some one may be
trying to get at me by hitting at my friends. I’ll remember this,
Carter, and I think you can help a lot when the time comes.”
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