CHAPTER XXV
TOM IN A GAME
"Want any help?" asked Tom, when Sid had outlined his scheme of "revenge."
"No, I guess not, until I get ready to pull the strings. Then you can give me a hand. We'll have to do it after dark, and be mighty careful not to be caught, though."
"But how are you going to get the suit?"
"I have a plan. Watch your Uncle Dudley."
Sid spent the rest of the afternoon in making up a bundle to look like one that contained two suits just from the tailor shop. Only, in place of clothes he used old newspapers. It was toward dusk when he went out with it under his arm.
"It's about time Wallops was coming back," he said to Tom. "I'll meet him in the clump of elms, where it's good and dark, and he can't tell who I am."
"Be careful," warned his roommate.
"Sure. But I know what I'm about. Revenge is sweet! Wow! Wait until you see the face of Pitchfork!"
Sid stole carefully along to a spot near the edge of the river, where a clump of big elm trees grew. This was near the bridge on the road to Haddonfield. The spot was lonely and deserted enough at this hour to suit his purpose, and the dusk of the evening, being added to by clouds, and by the shadows of the trees, made concealment easy.
"I guess that's Wallops," murmured Sid as he peered out from behind a tree. "That walks like Wallops, and he's got a bundle under his arm. Now for a grand transformation scene."
Awaiting the psychological moment, Sid hurried out, and bumped into the college messenger. Wallops' bundle was knocked from under his arm, and, by a strange coincidence, so was Sid's.
"I beg your pardon!" exclaimed the student in an assumed voice. "Awfully careless of me, I'm sure. I beg a thousand pardons! I was in a hurry, and I didn't notice you. Is this the road to Haddonfield?"
"That's all right," replied Wallops good naturedly as his pardon was begged again. "Yes, keep straight on, and you'll come to the trolley that runs to Haddonfield."
"Let me restore your bundle to you," went on Sid, picking up both parcels.
He handed one to the messenger, and kept one himself.
"'Twas yours, 'tis mine; 'twas his, 'tis ours," he paraphrased. "Again let me express my sincere sorrow at this happening. I trust there was nothing in your package that could be damaged when I knocked it from your grasp."
"No, nothing but some clothes of one of the college professors. It's all right."
"And I'm sure my package isn't damaged," said Sid, in a queer voice, as he hurried away.
A little later he was telling Tom, with much mirth, how it all came about. The two, in the seclusion of their room, opened the bundle, and saw two suits, one full dress.
"Won't he howl when he finds nothing but a lot of newspapers!" exclaimed Sid. "Now for the rest of the trick."
"Maybe he'll borrow a dress suit from some student," said Tom.
"Not much he won't," replied Sid. "I thought of that, and I forwarded a message by wireless to all the dormitories that if Pitchfork sent around to borrow some glad rags, he was to be refused on some pretext or other."
Sid's precaution was well taken. A little later it was evident that something unusual had occurred. Wallops and several other college messengers were seen hurrying first to the rooms of one professor, then to the apartments of another. Each time the scouts came back empty-handed to that part of the faculty residence where Professor Tines dwelt.
"I knew they had no spike-tails that would fit him," exulted Sid. "Besides, most of them are going to the reception themselves."
There was consternation in the apartments of Professor Tines. Wallops had delivered to him the bundle of papers, and when the astonished instructor had threatened and questioned him, the unfortunate messenger could only say it was the package he had received from the tailor. That worthy, on being appealed to by telephone, declared that he had sent home the professor's garments. Wallops had no idea that the stranger he met in the wood had played a transformation trick on him, and Professor Tines, in his anxiety to get dressed, and go to the reception, did not dream that it was a student prank. Rather he blamed the tailor, and made up his mind to sue the man for heavy damages.
Then, just as Sid had expected, the instructor endeavored to borrow a dress-suit from one of the students. But they had been warned, and were either going to wear their suits themselves, or had just sent them to the tailor.
"What shall I do?" wailed Professor Tines. "I can't go in this suit," and he looked at his acid-and-chalk-marked classroom garments. "Yet I was to read a paper on early Roman life at this reception. It is too provoking. I can't understand why none of the students have a suit available."
"You could have one of mine, only" began Dr. Churchill as he looked first at the figure of the professor, and then at himself. "I'm afraid it wouldn't fit," he added.
"No—no, of course not!" exclaimed Mr. Tines distractedly. "I will telephone that rascally tailor again. Never, never shall he press another suit of mine!"
But the knight of the goose and needle insisted that the professor's clothes had been sent home, and that was all there was to it. Mr. Tines could not go to the reception, and, as it was an important affair, where nearly all of the faculty was expected to be present, he was grievously disappointed.
When all was quiet that night a party of students, including Sid and Tom, stole out to the campus. They worked quickly and silently.
"There!" exclaimed Sid, when all was finished. "I rather guess that will astonish him!"
In the morning the attention of most of the college students, and several of the faculty, was attracted to a throng of passersby staring up at the flagstaff. They would halt, point upward, make some remarks, and then, laughing, pass on. Some one called the attention of Dr. Churchill to it.
"Why, bless my soul!" he exclaimed as he prepared to go out. "I hope none of the students have put the flag at half mast or upside down."
He put on his far-seeing spectacles, and walked 
DR. CHURCHILL HAD TO TURN HIS FACE AWAY—Page 222
out on the campus. There, at the top of the pole, was a figure which looked like a man, with outstretched arms.
"What student has dared climb up there?" exclaimed the head of the college. "Send for Mr. Zane at once," he added to Professor Newton, who had accompanied him. "He must be severely punished—the venturesome student, I mean."
"I hardly think that is a student," replied Mr. Newton.
"Do you mean to say it is some outsider?"
"I think it is no one at all, Dr. Churchill. I believe it is an effigy. See how stiff the arms and legs are."
"I believe you are right," admitted the venerable doctor.
His belief was confirmed a moment later, for a farmer, who was driving along the river road, left his team, and came up the campus, a broad smile covering his face.
"Good-morning, Dr. Churchill," he said. "Is this a new course in eddercation you're givin' the boys?"
"Ah, good-morning, Mr. Oakes. What do you mean?"
"Why, I see you've got a scarecrow up on that liberty pole. I thought maybe you was addin' a course in agriculture to your studies. Only if I was you I wouldn't put a scarecrow up so high. There ain't no need of it. One low down will do jest as well. And another thing, I allers uses old clothes. There ain't no sense in puttin' a swallertail coat an' a low-cut vest on a scarecrow. Them birds will be jest as skeert of an old coat and a pair of pants stuffed with straw as they will of a dress-suit. That's carryin' things a leetle too fur!" and the farmed laughed heartily.
"Dress-suit! Scarecrow!" exclaimed Dr. Churchill, and then he got a glimpse of the figure on top of the pole. It was arrayed in a full-dress suit, and Professor Tines, coming out a moment later, beheld his missing garments.
"This is an outrage!" he declared. "I demand the instant dismissal of the student or students responsible for this, Dr. Churchill!"
Dr. Churchill tried hard not to smile, but he had to turn his face away.
"I am greatly obliged to you, Mr. Oakes, for your information," said the head of the college to the farmer, who was still laughing. "Our improvised scarecrow shall be taken down at once."
"Scarecrow!" exclaimed Professor Tines. "I think" But wrath choked his utterance. "I demand that my suit be taken down at once!" he went on, after a pause, "and that the guilty ones be punished!"
"They shall be, I assure you," promised Dr. 223 Churchill, "when I learn who they are. If you hear, professor, let me know."
"I shall. But I want my suit. Perhaps it is ruined."
But a new difficulty now arose, for Sid and his fellow conspirators had fastened the halyards high up on the pole, and it was not until Professor Tines had sent Wallops for a ladder that the ropes could be untied and the suit lowered. During this process a group of students gathered at a respectful distance from the flagstaff and looked on interestedly.
But, though a strict inquiry was made, no one was ever punished for the "scarecrow joke" as it came to be called, and it is now one of the traditions of Randall College.
Owing to the fact that Sid had "made good" in Latin he was not barred from the game that day, and there was no chance for Tom to act as substitute. He went with Miss Tyler, and the trip on the river, lake, and in the auto was a delightful one.
There was a big crowd on the bleachers and grandstand when the nines began to play, and rivalry in singing college songs, giving college yells and waving college colors ran high.
Randall got two runs in the first inning, and for three more Fairview secured only zeros. Langridge was pitching fine ball. Then Lem Sellig, who was doing the "twirling" for Fairview, seemed to warm up to his work, and struck out a surprising number of men. In the seventh inning Fairview secured five runs, and in the eighth they reeled off five more, for Langridge grew reckless, and not only gave men their bases on balls in rapid succession, but struck two men, which gave them free passes to first.
"He's going to pieces!" exclaimed Coach Lighton as he saw the score piling up against his men. "It's got to stop, or we'll be the laughing stock of the league."
Yet he did not like to take Langridge out. Captain Woodhouse was angry clear through, and as for Kerr, he openly insulted the pitcher.
"What's the matter?" the catcher cried after a particularly bad series of balls and a fumble on the part of Langridge that let in a run. "You're rotten to-day!"
Langridge flushed, but his face had been rosy-hued before that, and twice he had gone to the dressing rooms, whence he came odorous of cloves.
Then the "rooters" seeing their game took up cries of derision against the pitcher, in an endeavor to "get his goat."
Langridge bit his lips and threw in a fierce ball. There were two out, but it looked as if it would go on that way indefinitely. Frank Sullivan, a good batter, hit it fairly, but Joe Jackson, out in left field, made a desperate run for it, and got the ball. It was a sensational catch, and was roundly applauded.
When Randall came to the bat for the last time the score was 12 to 2 in favor of their opponents.
"We can't win," said Kindlings hopelessly.
"No, but for the love of Mike, don't let them roll up any bigger score against us, or they'll put us out of the league," begged Bricktop Molloy. "Speak to Langridge, and tell him to hold hard."
"What's the use speaking to him?" asked Kerr gloomily. "He'll go off his handle if I do. He told me never to speak to him again, just because I called him down a bit. Land knows he needed it!"
"We've got to make a change," decided the coach. "I'll not let Langridge pitch next inning. If he does I'll resign, and I'll tell him so."
He walked over to the pitcher, and soon the two were in earnest conversation.
Randall could not make another run, for Sellig was doing his best and they did not get a hit off him.
"Our only chance is to strike them out," murmured Kerr as he arose from the bench to take his place. "Who's going to pitch, Mr. Lighton?"
"Tom Parsons."
"Tom Parsons? What's the matter with our regular substitute, Evert?"
"His arm is no good and he's out of practice. I'm going to put Tom in."
And much to his astonishment Tom was summoned from the grandstand, where he was talking to Miss Tyler about the slump.
"Me pitch? Are you sure Mr. Lighton sent you for me?" he asked Jerry Jackson, who had brought the message.
"Sure. Come on and get into part of a uniform."
"Yes, do go," urged Miss Tyler. "I—I hope you beat them."
"It's too late for that now," replied Tom sadly as he walked down from the stand.
A little later he was in the box, facing Roger Barns, one of the best hitters on the Fairview team. Tom was nervous, there is no denying that, but he held himself well in control. It was the goal of his ambition—to pitch on the 'varsity, and he was now realizing it. True, it was almost an empty honor, but he resolved to do his best, and this thought steeled his nerves, even though the crowd hooted at him.
And he struck out the first three men up, at which his college chums went wild, for it was all they had to rejoice over in the game.