“What’s this—what’s this, boys?” cried Dick, as they were passing the office of the Rockford Star, on their way to the hotel. “Just look at that bulletin board. Maplewood defeated Seaslope! Take a look at the standing of the teams! Did you ever before see anything like that?” No wonder the boys uttered exclamations of surprise and astonishment as they stood in front of the bulletin board, for by the record there it was seen that every team in the Trolley League was tied. The four clubs had played forty games each, and all had won twenty and lost twenty.
“Now for the race to the finish!” exclaimed Merriwell. “It will be good and hot!”
No wonder the Fairhaven crowd was enthusiastic and delighted.
Bart Hodge was the hero of the day. Still wearing his ragged clothes, he marched at Dick’s side with the ball players, his dark eyes gleaming and a smile on his face.
“Frank will enjoy the letter I’ll write him,” he declared. “I’ll tell him how his plan worked. I didn’t think I could fool you, Dick. It wasn’t so difficult last night, for we met in the dark and you could not get a good look at me. To-day you were somewhat excited and wrought up over the game, which kept you from inspecting me closely.”
“I thought you acted mighty queer,” laughed Dick. “You kept that old hat on all the time and had it pulled down over your eyes. Besides that, you seemed disinclined to talk with me after we agreed on the signals we would use. Whenever I spoke you turned your head away and did not answer. Besides, I never dreamed of seeing Bart Hodge in rags and with his face and hands dirt-begrimed.”
“It’s good, clean dirt, Dick,” retorted Hodge. “Still I confess I’m rather anxious to wash it off now. Hear that big chap whoop! He nearly broke his neck by falling off the bleachers when you struck out the last Rockford batter.”
“That’s McLane,” said Dick. “He’s one of our most enthusiastic supporters.”
The big lobsterman was marching down the street, waving his hat in the air and occasionally letting out a yell that sounded like a steam calliope.
In the island crowd was Grace Garrett. Without attracting the attention of his companions, Earl Gardner dropped back and walked at Grace’s side.
“Oh, I’m so glad you won the game to-day, Earl!” she exclaimed, placing her hand on his arm.
“I didn’t win it,” he laughed. “Dick and Bart Hodge deserve all the credit.”
“Not all the credit,” she denied. “But who is this Bart Hodge? Is he really a tramp?”
“Hardly that!” smiled Gardner. “He’s a chum and comrade of Dick Merriwell’s brother, Frank.”
“Well, how does he happen to be here now?”
“Frank Merriwell sent him. He couldn’t come himself, and so he sent Hodge. It was a mighty lucky thing for us that Hodge turned up just when he did. No other man could have gone behind the bat and handled Dick’s pitching to-day.”
“What was the matter with Brad Buckhart? He actually seemed crazy.”
Earl shook his head.
“That was something mighty queer,” he said. “Buckhart was ill—he’s ill now, and he has two bad-looking eyes. That ball struck him between the eyes, and they are nearly closed up.”
“It was dreadful!” said Grace. “It frightened all the girls. I thought he was killed.”
“It takes something harder than a baseball to kill that Texan,” declared Gardner. “Dick tried to induce him to go to a doctor, but he remained through the game and kept a wet handkerchief over his bruise.”
With a handkerchief tied round his head, Buckhart was plodding along at the rear of the ball players. The Western lad was doing some thinking now. Gradually his head seemed getting clearer, and he was trying to devise some explanation for his own remarkable actions on the ball field. He remembered very well the singular feeling of lassitude and weakness that came upon him a short time after eating dinner at the Corndike Hotel that day. Over and over to himself Buckhart put this question:
“What did I eat that knocked me out?”
As the ball players were passing the Corndike, Uriah Blackington hurried out of the hotel, and called to Ray Garrett.
“Come here a moment, Garrett,” he urged. “Bring Merriwell with you.”
Ray and Dick joined the Rockford manager.
“I’ve just received a telephone message from Hammerswell and Whitcomb,” said Blackington. “They urged me to call a meeting right away for the purpose of making certain changes in the schedule.”
“Why should there be any changes made?” asked Garrett. “Isn’t the schedule satisfactory to Rockford?”
“Not exactly,” answered Blackington. “We wish to make one or two changes ourselves.”
“Ten to one,” cut in Dick, “this is some sort of a trick on the part of Hammerswell. Don’t help him out in his schemes, Mr. Blackington.”
In a frank manner the Rockford man placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder.
“Don’t you worry about that, my boy,” he said. “I have no particular use for Benton Hammerswell. Still, as two of the managers in the league have called for this meeting, one must be held. They demand it at once, saying they will be here within an hour and ready to transact business. Mr. Garrett can stop off and attend the meeting, while the rest of you may return to the island.”
“If I stop,” said Ray, “I want you to remain with me, Dick. I may need your advice. We’ll not go back to Fairhaven on the Lady May to-night, for, according to our agreement with the captain, that boat leaves here as soon as possible after the game.”
“Wait a minute,” said Merriwell. “Perhaps Captain Jennings might be induced to wait a while if we pay him. There’ll be a moon to-night, and there are no signs of fog.”
“The excursionists might object.”
“Let’s go down to the boat and talk it over.”
As they started off, Blackington called to them:
“Under any circumstances one of you must stay if you wish to have a finger in the alteration of the schedule.”
When the Lady May was reached Garrett gathered the excursionists and told them it was necessary for Dick and himself to remain in Rockford two hours at least.
“If you people say so,” said Ray, “the Lady May will swing off at once with you; but if you’re in no haste we’ll see if the captain can be induced to wait for us.”
“Oh, say!” cried Brick McLane, “we want to take everybody back with us. There’ll be a warm time on the island when we git there.”
“That’s right! that’s right!” cried several of the others. “If the captain will wait we’ll wait.”
There was not a dissenting voice, and therefore Ray and Dick talked with Captain Jennings at once. He agreed to wait until nine o’............