CHAPTER VIII
THE LAST STRAW
Jack marked the first of April a red-letter day in his memory, for onthat day he was taken on to the varsity nine as substitute. The factwas made known to him after practise when, with the others, he wasdressing himself in the locker-house. The head coach appeared in theirmidst with a slip of paper and Jack listened indifferently until heheard his name spoken. Even then the absurd idea came to him that itwas an April fool.
"Just a moment, please," said Hanson; and when the hubbub had suddenlyceased, "the training-table will start in the morning at Pearson's,"he announced, "and the following men will report there for breakfast:King, Knox, Gilberth, Billings, Stiles, Motter, Bissell, Lowe, Northup,Smith, Griffin, Mears, and Weatherby. Later, about the middle of themonth, more men will be taken on. At present these are all we canaccommodate. Breakfast is at eight prompt, and we want every man to bethere on time. That's all."
After he had gone out those of the fellows remaining began aninterested discussion of the announcement. Jack, pulling on his shoes,listened silently.
"Where were you, Jimmie?" asked King.
"I'm one of the 'also-rans,' I guess," answered Riseman, a substitutefielder, sadly.
"Beaten by a freshie," called a fellow across the room. "Fie, fie, forshame!"
"Who's the freshie?" called some one else.
"Weatherby," answered two or three voices. "Weatherby, the brave!"added another. An admonitory "S--s--s--sh!" arose from Jack's vicinity,and King whispered around the corner of the next alley: "Shut up,you fellows; he's over here." And then another voice, one which Jackinstantly recognized as Gilberth's, drowned King's warning.
"Do you suppose Hanson expects us to sit at the same table with thatbounder?" he asked loudly.
Jack's face paled, and he bent his head quickly over the shoe he waslacing. "He knows I'm here," he told himself grimly, "and pretends hedoesn't. If he says 'Coward,' I'll--I'll--" A lace broke in his hand.King suddenly began talking very loudly to Riseman about the baseballnews from Robinson, but above that Jack heard Gilberth's voice again:
"I'd be afraid he'd put poison in my coffee. A fellow that'll standby and see a person drown before his eyes without making a move athelping him might do anything. For my part-- What? Who is?" There wasan instant's pause. Then, "Well," continued the speaker in slightlylowered tones, "there's an old proverb about listeners--" The resttrailed off into silence.
King was still talking volubly and seemingly at random. In spite ofhis almost overmastering anger, Jack recognized King's good-heartedattempt to spare him pain, and was grateful. His hands trembled sothat he could scarcely tie his broken string, and the tears were verynear the surface; he had to gulp hard once or twice to keep them back.The temptation to kick off the unlaced shoe, dash recklessly aroundthe corner, and knock Gilberth down, to fight him until he could nolonger stand, was strong. He kept his head bent and his blazing eyeson the floor and fought down the impulse. He had promised Anthony tokeep silence; to lose command of himself now would be to waste allthose weeks of self-repression which, he believed, and was right inbelieving, had made a favorable impression upon his fellows. He triedto think of other things, of his luck in being taken on to the varsity,of how pleased Anthony would be at hearing about it. Presently hefinished lacing his shoes, stood up and calmly donned his coat. Then,in spite of himself, he hesitated.
The thought of passing through the locker-room under the staring,antagonistic eyes of a score or so of men, of running the gantlet ofwhispers and low laughter, for the moment appalled him. Then, as heslowly buttoned the last button, he heard a voice at his side.
"Ready, Weatherby? If you don't mind, I'll walk back with you."
He looked around into the pleasant face of King and, after a moment ofsurprise, muttered assent. The central aisle was filled with fellowsin various stages of attire and the two had to worm their way through.Jack went first, doing his level best to look unconcerned and at ease,and King followed close behind him, talking over his shoulder allthe way. At the door King stepped ahead and threw open the portal,guiding Jack through with a friendly push on the back. When they haddisappeared, one or two witnesses of the affair exchanged surprised oramused glances. But only Gilberth commented aloud.
"Very touching!" he laughed. "King to the rescue of Insulted Innocence!"
"Oh, forget it!" growled some one from the depths of a twilit alley.
Outside, on the porch, Jack turned to King with reddened cheeks. "Thankyou," he said.
"All right," answered the other carelessly. "Fair play, you know."
Jack hesitated, waiting for the other to take his departure. Kinglooked at him quizzically.
"Look here, Weatherby, don't be so beastly snobbish," he expostulatedwith a touch of impatience. "If you object to my company back to theYard, just say so, but don't look as though I was too low down toassociate with."
Jack colored and looked distressed.
"I didn't mean to, honestly!" he protested. "Of course, I don't objectto your company. I--I only thought----"
"Well, come on, then." They went down the steps together, just as thedoor opened to emit a handful of players. "Don't get it into your head,Weatherby, that we're all cads," King continued, "just because Gilberthoccasionally acts like one. The fact is, there are plenty of fellowsback there who are quite ready to be decent if you'll give them half achance. The trouble is, though, you look as though you didn't care acontinental for anybody. Perhaps you don't; but it isn't flattering,you see. I dare say it sounds pretty cheeky for me to talk like this toyou, especially as we've never been properly introduced and haven'tspoken before, but I've been here a year longer than you have, and Iknow how easy it is to make mistakes. And it seems to me you're makingone."
"I don't think you're cheeky," answered Jack quite humbly. "I don'tmean to have folks think I'm--think I'm indifferent, either."
"That's all right, then," replied King heartily. "They say you'recoming out as a pitcher," he went on, changing the subject, to Jack'srelief. "Bissell was telling me to-day."
"I've been pitching some on the second nine," answered Jack.
"Where did you play before you came to college?" asked the other. Jacktold him about the high-school nine at Auburn, and the rest of theway back the talk remained on baseball matters. He parted from hisnew acquaintance at the corner of the Yard, and went on alone througha soft, spring-like twilight to his room. He had gained one more ofthe enemy to his side, he reflected, and that alone was a good day'swork. But besides that he had been taken on to the varsity squad, andaltogether the day was a memorable one. He climbed the stairs happily,the sting of the incident in the locker-house no longer felt.
Anthony was quite as pleased with his news as Jack had expected him tobe, and the two sat together until late that evening discussing theunexpected stroke of fortune.
"Wouldn't be surprised if they let you play in Saturday's game," saidAnthony. Jack laughed ruefully.
"I should," he answered. "But it's something to sit on the varsitybench."
The next morning Jack dressed himself under mild excitement at thethought of making his appearance at the training-table. He had notifiedMrs. Dorlon the evening before of his departure from her hospitableboard and that lady had sniffed disappointedly at the notion of losingher only boarder. But Jack had no regrets for the separation. Pearson'swas only about a block from Mrs. Dorlon's, but, nevertheless, Jackreached there several minutes late. The baseball players had been giventhe big dining-room on the front of the house in which last fall'ssuccessful football team, winner of the remarkable 2--0 game withRobinson, had eaten their way to glory.
When Jack entered, the table at first glance appeared to be filled.The next moment he saw that there were three empty seats, two at thefarther end of the table and one near at hand, between Gilberth andNorthup. He reflected that it might look cheeky to parade the lengthof the room, and so, returning the nods of several of the fellows,he slipped into the chair beside Gilberth, ferv
ently hoping that thelatter would take no notice of him. Gilberth was busily recountingan adventure which had befallen him the day before while out in hisautomobile--he was the proud possessor of the only motor vehicle in thetown of Centerport--and it is probable that he did not observe Jack'sentrance.
"It was just at that narrow stretch before you get to the blacksmith'sshop," he was saying. "The fellow had a load of bricks. Well, hestopped, and I stopped, and we looked at each other. Finally, he calledout, 'Say, you'll have to back to the corner, I guess. We can't passhere.' 'Back nothing,' I said. 'These things aren't taught to back.''They ain't?' said he. 'But you don't expect that I'm going to backwith this load on, do you?' 'It's a good deal to expect,' I answered,looking sorry, 'but if you don't, we're likely to stay here untilChristmas.' You'd ought to have heard him swear! It was as good as acircus! Well----"
"How are you, Weatherby?" asked Joe Perkins at that moment.
As Jack replied, Gilberth turned and saw him. Stopping short in hisnarrative, he silently gathered up his plate, cup, and saucer, andpushing back his chair, arose and walked around the table to one of theother empty seats. The talk died out abruptly, and the fellows watchedthe proceedings in dead silence. Gilberth's action had taken Jackcompletely by surprise, and for a moment he could only stare amazedly.Then, as the full force of the insult struck him, the color flooded hischeeks until they burned like fire. His eyes, avoiding the faces acrossthe board, fell upon the sympathetic countenance of the captain, and itwas the look of concern he found there that upset him. The tears rushedinto his eyes and the hand on the table trembled. He put it in hislap, where it clenched its fellow desperately, and stared miserably atthe white cloth. Suddenly upon the uncomfortable silence a voice brokecalmly. Gilberth, having settled himself in his new seat, was going onwith his story, just as though there had been no interruption.
"After he'd called me everything he could think of," he continued, "hegot down and started to back. It took him ten minutes to get to theblacksmith shop, and maybe he wasn't mad! After I got by him, I gavehim a little exhibition, free of charge. I backed the machine all overthe place, and pretty nearly stood it on end. You ought to have seenhis eyes; they almost popped out of his head. And just when he wasbeginning to recover his voice, I waved good-by to him, and lit out.Funniest thing you ever saw!"
One or two of his audience laughed half-heartedly, but the most lookedgravely disgusted.
"You have a wonderfully keen sense of humor," observed Joe Perkinsdryly. Then the conversation began again, and the waitress broughtJack's breakfast. He ate it silently, or as much of it as he could; thecoffee scalded his throat, and the steak very nearly choked him. King,sitting near-by, spoke to him once, and he answered. But his voicewasn't quite steady, and so the other wisely refrained from furtherattempts at conversation. One by one the fellows left the room, and assoon as he dared, Jack followed. He kept his head very high all the wayback to his room; but in each cheek there was a bright disk of crimsonand his eyes stared straight ahead. A tramp slouching along, with handsin pockets, moved aside to let him pass, but Jack never saw him.
When he had entered the front door, he moved very quietly, mounting thestairs as though contemplating burglary. Anthony's door was ajar, andJack tiptoed toward it and looked into the bare and shabby room. It wasempty, and the fact seemed to relieve him. Crossing to his own room, heturned the key in the lock and began feverishly to pack his valise.The task did not take him long, and when it was completed, and the bagstood beside the door secured and strapped, he went to the desk and,seizing a sheet of paper, wrote hurriedly. When the composition wasfinished, he read it through.
"DEAR FRIEND [it ran]: There's no use trying any more. I thought I could stand it, but I just can't. After what happened this morning, there's only one thing for me to do, and I'm going to do it. I'm very sorry to go away from you, because you have been awfully kind to me, and you are the first one I ever knew who seemed like a chum. But I'm going home, and not coming back any more, because I can't stand every one thinking I'm a coward, and Gilberth treating me like mud. I'm sorry I can't keep my promise to you, if it was really a promise, and please don't think I haven't tried, because I have tried very hard. Please don't remember it against me. I'm very, very sorry. Maybe I will meet you again some time.
"Your sincere friend,
"JOHN WEATHERBY.
"P. S. Please keep this charm to remember me by, if you don't mind. You wear it on your watch-chain. Good-by. J. W."
He placed the note and the watch-charm in an envelope, sealed andaddressed it, and crossed with it to Anthony's room. When he returneda moment later, he held something concealed in his hand. He unstrappedhis valise, and as he did so a noise in the hall outside caused him toglance nervously at the door. Quickly opening the bag he dropped theobject he held into it, and again secured it. Going into the hall, helistened. All was still. Returning, he took up bag and overcoat andcautiously crept down the stairs and out of the house. Fearful of beingseen, he turned to the left and made his way to the station by MurdochStreet and the railroad.
Weatherby's Inning: A Story of College Life and Baseball Page 8
