CHAPTER XXIX
MR. HOBSON
Boxwood Hall had won the second game of the important series in thetenth inning. It was game and game--a third one would be necessary todecide the championship. And as the rooters of the victorious siderealized this, and as they thought of what snap and ginger Ned, Boband Jerry had put into the team at the crucial moment, there came gladshouts and cries.
The winning team had cheered its losing rivals, and in turn, to showtheir sporting spirit, the military lads had responded. Then out on thediamond swarmed the Boxwood Hall rooters.
“Oh you Jerry Hopkins!”
“Oh you Bob Baker!”
“Three cheers for Ned Slade, our peerless pitcher!” called oneenthusiast.
The cheers were given with a will, and the boys thronged around ourthree heroes, patting them on the back, hugging them, trying to shakehands with them and lead them about in a wild snake dance.
Ted Newton saw a dark and scowling look on Frank Watson’s face. He didsome quick thinking.
“Three cheers for our captain!” he called. “The pluckiest baseballcaptain Boxwood Hall ever had.”
And the cheer that followed brought a smile even to Frank’s dourface. Ted had guessed rightly--that Frank was getting jealous of thepopularity of the three chums, and Ted did not desire this, for hewanted to see all enmity wiped out.
“Great work, old man!” exclaimed Jim Blake, the deposed pitcher, as heshook hands with Ned. “I was certainly off form to-day.”
“Well, maybe you’ll be all right next time,” said Ned.
The celebration over the victory proceeded, yells, cheers and songsbeing intermingled. The vanquished hastened away, not a littledown-hearted, for after their decisive victory in the first game theyhad looked for a walkover in the second one. And they would have foundit only for the timely playing of Ned, Bob and Jerry.
One might have thought that he would have given credit where it wasdue, but Frank did not. He did not approach the three lads he hadpublicly said he would make eat humble pie.
“Say, old man, don’t you think it’s about time you made up?” askedBart, linking his arm in that of Frank as he walked with him off thediamond.
“Make up with whom?”
“With Jerry and his friends. They pulled us out of a hole to-day,and----”
“I’m willing to admit that,” broke in Frank. “I’ll give them all thecredit in the world for playing ball, but, personally, I don’t care tohave anything to do with them.”
“That’s no way to feel,” added Bill Hamilton.
“What is it to you how I feel?” snapped Frank. “You let me alone! I’mwilling to have them play on the team, because they can put up a goodgame. But beyond that I won’t go!”
Frank was as obstinate as ever. Bart and Bill were about to give up,for the time being, the attempt to reconcile Frank to the three chums,when Ted Newton, having overheard what was going on, took a hand.
“Frank, you’re all wrong in this,” said the football hero, as he andBart and Bill, with the baseball captain walked off to one side.“You’re making a big mistake!”
“Well then, let me make it!” exclaimed Frank, angrily. “I wish you’dlet me alone! I know my own business. I know what I’m going to do. Isay I won’t be friends with those fellows, and I won’t. That’s allthere is to it.”
Ted shrugged his shoulders, and did not know what to answer. At thismoment, off among a little group of lads, a voice was heard saying:
“There he is--right over there!”
A hand pointed to where Frank stood disputing with Bart, Bill and Ted,and a man, detaching himself from those who had evidently been givinghim directions, approached the baseball captain.
“Hello, Frank!” he cried in jolly tones, holding out his hand. “I hearyou just won a big game.”
“Oh, hello, Dad!” Frank cried, his face lighting up with surprisedpleasure, in strange contrast to the former looks that disfigured it.“Say, I wish you could have been here. It was great! We’ve tied Kenwellnow. When’d you arrive?”
“Just a little while ago. I had a blowout and it delayed me, otherwiseI’d have been here, as I wrote you.”
The two linked arms and walked away, showing mutual affection more liketwo brothers or chums than any other relationship.
“That’s Frank’s stepfather,” said Bart. “They surely are fond of eachother.”
“Frank would do anything for him, so I’ve heard him say,” remarkedBill. “But there’s no use trying to get Frank to do anything aboutJerry and his chums.”
“No, I guess not,” agreed Ted.
Frank and his stepfather, walking toward college, saw three ladsapproaching them. It was Ned, Bob and Jerry, and just now Frank wouldhave preferred not to encounter them.
Frank made as if to turn to one side, but his stepfather, taking asecond look at our heroes, exclaimed:
“Hold on a moment, son. I know those lads!”
“Know them?” gasped Frank.
“Yes. Hello there!” he cried. “Aren’t you Jerry Hopkins, Ned Slade andBob Baker?”
For a moment neither of the three chums answered. Then looks ofrecognition came over their faces.
“Mr. Hobson!” Jerry fairly shouted. “Mr. Hobson!”
“I thought so,” went on Frank’s stepfather, laughing. “I’ve got apretty good memory for faces. I never expected to see you at BoxwoodHall. Frank, you know these lads, of course?”
“I--er--I--that is--Oh, yes, of course.”
Frank was ill at ease. But his stepfather, Mr. Hobson, went on, notseeming to notice.
“Frank,” he said, “I want you to shake hands with three of thepluckiest lads in the world. When I had an accident some time ago--whenmy auto left the road, rolled down a bank, pinned me under it and thengot on fire--these lads raised it off me and got me out in time to savemy life. Shake hands with Ned, Bob and Jerry, Frank, and thank ’em foryour dad’s life.”