CHAPTER XXX
THE WINNING GAME
Frank Watson’s face was a study in emotions as he stood beside hisstepfather, confronting Ned, Bob and Jerry. He tried to speak, but, fora moment, could not.
“You boys must have shaken hands a lot of times already,” went on Mr.Hobson, “but shake again, Frank, and I will too, for it isn’t every dayI have my life saved, you know,” and he laughed, though there was deepfeeling in his words.
“They saved your life?” asked Frank hesitatingly.
“That’s what they did--from my burning auto. And they put out the fire,too, and saved the machine. I got it back from the garage all right,Jerry,” he went on. “Much obliged to you.”
Frank held out his hand toward the tall lad.
“Fellows, I--I--er--I guess I’ve been just a plain cad,” Frankconfessed with a shame-faced air. “Will you shake?”
“Of course!” cried Jerry heartily, and their hands met in a firmclasp. In turn Ned and Bob shook hands with the baseball captain.
“What does it mean?” asked Mr. Hobson. “Weren’t you boys--Didn’t youknow one another--and playing on the college nine?” he cried.
“It’s a long story, Dad,” broke in Frank. “Come up to my room--you too,Jerry, Ned and Bob,” he went on, “and we’ll talk it out. I’ve been abig fool, I guess, but I’m done now. Come on.”
He linked one arm with Jerry, the other with Mr. Hobson, while thelatter held on to Ned and Ned to Bob, and in this fashion they marchedoff the baseball field.
“Well, what do you know about that?” cried Bart, seeing what hadhappened.
“Frank has made up with the three inseparables!” exclaimed Bill.
“It’s the best thing that could have happened, but I don’t know how itcame about,” added Ted Newton.
The story of the reconciliation was soon known all through the college.
Meanwhile, up in Frank’s room, a scene was taking place that broughtout many feelings and emotions. Mr. Hobson told Frank all about therescue, and then Frank, brushing aside his stubborn will and pride,told of the wrong impression he had conceived regarding our heroes andof his holding aloof from them.
“Well, well!” exclaimed Mr. Hobson. “I guess it’s a good thing I camealong. I wrote you, Frank, about three lads getting me out of a badpredicament, but I didn’t give you all the particulars, for I was toobusy to write much, traveling all over the West.”
“And you never mentioned their names,” said Frank.
“No, I guess I didn’t.”
“And we never knew Mr. Hobson was your stepfather,” added Jerry. “Infact, we never heard that your stepfather’s name was Hobson.”
“No, I guess I was too uppish to let you hear much of me,” returnedFrank, with a laugh. “But it will be different from now on. We’ll befriends; won’t we?”
“Sure!” chorused Jerry and Bob, as they shook hands all around.
“But you won’t squeal on us any more when we have a midnight spread, orhoist the sacred picture on the flagpole; will you?” Ned demanded.
Frank’s face flushed.
“I did squeal on you about that first spread, and I gave the proctorthe key,” he confessed, “and I’m mighty sorry I did it. I was just mad.But I didn’t squeal about the picture!”
“You didn’t?” cried Ned. “Then who did?”
“I don’t know,” Frank replied, “but I don’t believe it was any of thefellows.”
“I’ll find out,” Ned declared.
There was an impromptu celebration of the victorious nine that evening,and Proctor Thornton was conveniently absent. Mr. Hobson was a guest ofhonor, and Frank, in a graceful speech, admitted his error in regard tothe three chums, and announced that hereafter they would be his closestfriends.
“And will they play in the last game against Kenwell?” some one asked.
“That’s what they will!” Frank answered, heartily.
“Then we’ll cinch the championship!”
Nothing outside the college routine happened in the following week atBoxwood Hall; but Frank and the three chums let their friendship grow,and the reconciliation meant much to both sides. Never before had thespirit of the college so manifested itself.
Mr. Hobson announced that he would stay to see the deciding gamebetween Boxwood and Kenwell, which would take place on the Boxwood Hallgrounds, they having won the toss.
“Luck sure is with us,” said Frank to Jerry when this matter had beensettled. “Now we’ve got a week to do some hard practicing, and we mustwork hard, for we want to beat ’em bad.”
“We’ll do our best,” Jerry answered.
Seldom before had there been such a baseball team at Boxwood. Ned,Bob and Jerry seemed to fit right in the places of the lads who weredeposed, at least temporarily, to make room for them. And the best ofit was that there was no ill feeling. The lads who were not allowed toplay rooted just as hard for the team as before.
Kenwell, it was said, was strengthening her nine, and the finalgame was likely to prove an exciting and hard one. Meanwhile, thetalk of the college, when it was not about baseball, was about thereconciliation between Frank Watson and the chums.
It was the day of the great game. The stands on the Boxwood Halldiamond were filled with students, girls, men and women, for it was abig attraction, this championship contest, and drew from all over theneighborhood.
Song after song welled from the rival factions. Cheer followed cheer.There were cheers for the clashing teams, and for the individualplayers. There were cheers for the rival captains, and “skyrockets,”and “locomotives” without number.
Out on the field ran the Boxwood Hall nine and the substitutes, to bereceived with yells of gladness. Then came the Kenwell lads, and they,too, were riotously welcomed.
There was some batting and pitching practice, and it was noted thatKenwell was “warming” up a new twirler.
“They’re out to do us,” murmured Frank. “Do your best, Ned!”
“I sure will, Cap!”
“Play ball!” called the umpire.
Only for a few minutes did it look bad for Boxwood Hall. This was inthe third inning. Up to this time neither side had scored. Then twopinch hitters were sent in, who found Ned to the extent of two runs,putting the military lads that much ahead of scoreless Boxwood Hall.
“Things aren’t breaking right,” murmured the Boxwood Hall rooters.
“Just you wait,” advised Ted Newton.
The break came when “Sock” Burchell was replaced by the new man. Eitherhe was not a good pitcher, or his rivals were on to his curves, forBoxwood Hall saw her opportunity and grasped it, and she tallied sevenruns in that inning.
From then on it was a walkover for Frank’s team. Kenwell foughtstaunchly every inch of the way, but when the first half of the ninthinning ended, with the military lads at the bat and the score fourteento four against them, the struggle was over. Boxwood Hall had won thechampionship, and in the main it was due to the sensational work ofNed, Bob and Jerry. For at a critical moment Jerry had pulled off adouble play that seemed to take the heart out of his opponents.
“’Rah for Boxwood Hall!”
“Boxwood Hall wins!”
“The championship is ours!”
Out on the field swarmed the rooters to surround and cheer the team.Frank clasped the hand of Jerry Hopkins.
“Great work, old man!” he cried.
“It was great work all around!” declared Ted Newton.
And so it was.
Once more cheer followed cheer, yell succeeded yell, and songechoed song, as the victorious ones paraded about the field, whilethe vanquished silently withdrew. Never before had Boxwood Hall sodecisively beaten its ancient rival.
It marked the practical end of the baseball season, for spring wasmerging into summer, and the long vacation was at hand.
There was a feast that night, given by Frank to the team, for trainingwas over, and among the first names proposed for a toast by the captainwe
re those of Ned, Bob and Jerry.
“Three good cheers for the motor boys!” cried Frank, and the roomechoed with the sound that followed.
It was a week after the big game when Ned, his face showing hisexcitement, came mysteriously to his two chums.
“I’ve found it! I’ve found it!” he cried.
“Found what?” asked Jerry.
“The typewriter on which the note that gave us away about the picturestunt was printed.”
“You have? Whose was it?” asked Bob.
“The proctor’s! Look, there’s a specimen of work from his machine andhere’s the card with our names on it.”
Ned laid them down side by side, and, as he told how he had securedthe sample by the use of a little subterfuge, his two chums noted thesimilarity of slight marks in letters that seemed to prove the point.And, a little later, it was proved positively.
For the proctor sent for our heroes one day.
“I understand you think that a certain student here gave informationto the faculty to the effect that you three took down the founder’spicture. Never mind how I found it out, but do you hold that belief?”he asked.
“We did,” answered Ned, “but we don’t now.”
“I am glad of it,” the proctor said, “for it was I who saw you. As Iwas too late to prevent your carrying your prank to completion to saveDr. Boxwood’s portrait from desecration, I wrote the note and put it onthe flagpole.”
“We know that, too,” said Ned.
“How did you find it out?” asked the proctor.
“We respectfully decline to tell,” and Ned bowed, smiling.
The proctor hesitated a moment.
“Very well. But don’t try such tricks again.”
“And so that mystery is solved,” observed Jerry, as they came out ofthe office. “I wonder what will happen next?”
And what did will be related in our next volume, to be called, “Ned,Bob and Jerry on a Ranch; Or, The Motor Boys Among the Cowboys.”
“Boys, I want to congratulate you on your basketball victory,” saidProfessor Snodgrass, some days after the diamond championship had beendecided. “I understand that the eleven did well.”
“Yes,” answered Jerry, trying not to laugh, “we did.”
“Well,” remarked Bob a few days after this, as he lay sprawling on acouch in his room, “this is no fun, fellows. Let’s do something.”
“What?” asked Jerry from his apartment where he and Ned were playingcheckers.
“Let’s go eat!” broke in Ned.
“Exactly!” agreed Bob, and Ned had to dodge the book the stout ladheaved at him.
But they presently went off to the dining hall, and there we will takeleave of Ned, Bob and Jerry.
THE END
Ned, Bob and Jerry at Boxwood Hall; Or, The Motor Boys as Freshmen Page 31
