university and it was expected to be a hard one, which expectation was not unfulfilled.
For the first few innings Randall seemed to have the contest well in hand. Then, during a few minutes when his side was at bat, Langridge disappeared into the dressing-room. With a heart that beat harder than usual Tom quietly followed. He was just in time to see Langridge putting away a bottle that gave out the characteristic odor.
"Don't do that!" cried Tom quickly, but in a low voice. He was hardly conscious of what he was saying.
Langridge wheeled around and faced him.
"Don't do what?" he asked sharply, his face flushed.
"Take that liquor to brace you up. You'll only pitch the worse for it, and it's not fair to the team."
Langridge took a step toward Tom.
"What right have you got to speak so to me?" he demanded. "You're a dirty sneak, that's what you are, following in here to spy on me! I guess I know what I'm doing. Can't I take a little toothache medicine without being insulted by you? Liquor! Supposing it is? The doctor ordered it for me."
"Not in the middle of a game," said Tom quietly. "Besides, it's against training rules, and you know it. It's not fair."
"Oh, I see your game," sneered Langridge. "I
