CHAPTER XVI
PHIL IS NERVOUS
Langridge struggled to his feet, anger rendering him almost speechless.He started toward Phil, who stood in the attitude of a trained boxer,awaiting the attack. The light from a new moon faintly illuminated thescene, and the figures stood out with considerable distinctness againstthe background of the dark building.
Wallops, the messenger, was shrinking away, anxious to escape unobserved,though he cast a look of gratitude at Phil. Tom was surprised at hischum's sudden attack, but he stood ready to aid him, in case Gerhartshould make an effort to take sides. As for Phil and Langridge, theyfaced each other, one eager with righteous anger to continue thechastisement, the other mad with the lust of shame and unreasoning.
"What--what did you do that for?" asked Langridge thickly, and his handwent to his jaw where Phil's fist had landed. His head was singing yetfrom the powerful blow.
"You know why," replied Phil calmly. "Because you're a coward."
"Hold on!" cried the bully, taking a step forward. "I've stood about allI'm going to from you."
He looked around at Gerhart. The freshman stood passive, and Langridgeshowed some surprise.
"Aren't you going to stand by me?" asked the sophomore of his ally.
"Of course," muttered Gerhart, but there was no heart in his tones. Heremembered what his crony had said regarding Phil's prowess.
"Certainly," put in Tom with gentle voice. "We'll make a quartet of it,if you like."
"What are you interfering with my affairs for?" went on Langridge,taking no notice of Tom.
"Because it's the affair of any decent college man to interfere when hecatches a dirty coward beating a fellow smaller than he is!" and Philfairly bit off the words.
"Take care!" cried Langridge. "You're going too far. I'll make a classmatter of it if you call me a coward again!"
"I wish you would!" burst out Phil. "I'd like to make a charge againstyou before the whole college! Beating Wallops because he's smaller thanyou are!"
"That wasn't it. He didn't do as I told him, and was insolent."
"Who gave you the right to assume a mastery over him? Besides, from whatI heard, you had evidently ordered him to do something against therules."
"Ah! So you were sneaking around to listen, were you?" sneeredLangridge.
"You know better than that, or I'd answer you in the same way I did atfirst," replied Phil. "If you send Wallops for liquor again I shallinform Dr. Churchill."
"I always thought you were a tattling cad!" burst out Langridge. "Now Iknow it!"
Hardly were the words out of his mouth ere Phil was beside him. Thequarter-back was fairly trembling, and his voice shook as he shot outthe words:
"Take that back! Take it back, I say, or--or I'll----"
He paused, emotion overcoming him, but from the manner in which he drewback his powerful left arm Langridge stepped aside apprehensively.
"Well, you haven't any right to interfere in my affairs," he whined.
"Do you take back what you said?" demanded Phil fiercely, and he laid atrembling hand on the shoulder of the bully.
"Take your hand from me!" exclaimed Langridge. "Yes--I suppose I've gotto--I can't fight a professional pugilist," he added with an uneasylaugh.
"Thanks for the compliment," spoke Phil grimly. "I guess this can endwhere it is. As for you, Gerhart, if I thought you had any other partin this than being a tool of this coward, I'd give you the soundestthrashing you ever had."
The freshman did not answer, and when Langridge turned aside Gerhartfollowed him into the shadows. Poor Wallops waited until they were outof sight, then the messenger trailed after Phil and Tom. On the way hehaltingly told the chums that Langridge had been in the habit of sendinghim to town to purchase stimulants for him. It had come to the pointwhere that night where the bartender had refused to sell any moreliquor, warning having been given that sales to minors were becoming toofrequent. It was the failure of Wallops to return with the whisky thatangered Langridge.
"Don't say anything about this, Wallops," advised Phil. "Langridge won'tbother you again. If he does, let me know."
"Yes, sir, and thank you, Mr. Clinton. I'll not tell."
"I guess Langridge and Gerhart won't, either," commented Tom. "They'llbe glad to let it drop."
"What cads those fellows are," remarked Phil a little later, when heand Tom, having had a refreshing shower bath, were preparing for bed intheir room.
"Well, you took some of it out of Langridge, at all events," said thepitcher.
"Maybe, but it will come back. I suppose I'll have to be on the lookoutnow, or he may do me a dirty turn."
"Shouldn't wonder. I had my troubles with him last term. But I thoughthe was going to do better this season."
"He can't seem to, evidently."
"Say," exclaimed Sid, poking his head from beneath the sheet, "I wishyou fellows would let a chap sleep. What are you chinning about?"
They told him, and, wide awake, he sat up and listened to the wholestory.
"I wish I'd seen it," he said. "It would have been as good as a footballgame. By the way, who does the team play this week, Phil?"
"Oh, we've got a little game with the Haddonfield Prep. School. Doesn'tamount to much. Some of the subs will play, I fancy."
"I hope Holly doesn't make the mistake of despising an enemy," went onSid. "Do you know, Phil, it seems to me that our fellows haven't strucktheir gait yet."
"Well, it's early in the season," said Tom.
"I know that," went on Sid, "but they ought to have more vim. There's acurious lack of ginger noticed. _You_ didn't play with your usual snap,Phil."
"I know it," was the almost unexpected answer from the quarter-back. "Iwondered if any one noticed it."
"I did," added Tom, "but I wasn't going to say anything. I thought itwas because it was the first game."
"No," said Phil slowly, "it wasn't that. I'm allunstrung--nervous--that's what's the matter."
"You nervous!" exclaimed Sid. "I wouldn't have believed that. What's thematter?"
"It's my mother," said Phil quietly, and there was a strange tone in hisvoice.
"She--she's not worse--is she?" asked Tom, and the room became curiouslyquiet.
"No," answered Phil; "but I can't tell what moment she may be. Fellows,I'm living in constant fear of receiving a message that--that she--thatshe's dead!"
A Quarter-Back's Pluck: A Story of College Football Page 16
