CHAPTER XIVA DECLARATION OF WAR.

CHAPTER XIVA DECLARATION OF WAR.

At Yale Field there was a spirit of optimism in the air that delighted Dick Merriwell.

The climax of the great baseball season was really at hand at last. After several years, in which Yale baseball teams had completely failed to uphold the prestige of the university in the national game, although Yale had been doing well in all other branches of sport, Dick Merriwell had, in one short season, brought the nine up to be a contender for the national intercollegiate championship.

The universal coach, after watching the aimless practice of the players for a few minutes, walked over to the stand, where Jim Phillips and big Bill Brady, his classmate, whose fame as a catcher was almost as great as that Jim had won as a pitcher, were practicing a new curve that Jim was trying to perfect.

“Get that ball ready, Jim,” he said. “I hope you won’t have to pitch another game for Yale this year, but it’s as well to be ready for emergencies.”

“That means Gray is to pitch for the team on Commencement Day, I suppose, Mr. Merriwell,” said Brady. “I’m glad to hear it. It will be a fine wind-up to his four years in college to beat Harvard on the same day that he gets his degree.”

“That’s the idea,” said Merriwell, smiling. “We’ll have to wait to see whether he can do it or not. But I certainly hope he can. He’s worked mighty hard, and he’s improved tremendously since the beginning of the season. He and Taylor make a fine battery now, and I guess Taylor’s learned a lot about catching from you, Brady.”

“Not so much as you think, Mr. Merriwell,” said Brady. “He always was a good catcher, and if he’s much better, it’s partly because he’s been taking the game more seriously and looking after himself better.”

“I wanted to speak to you two fellows,” said the coach seriously. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this man Parker. He’s a fine football player, and if he doesn’t play this fall, Yale will miss him badly. I don’t know just where we can look for a guard to take his place. But I won’t have him on the team if he hasn’t been playing fair. You remember that after I proved he was responsible for that absurd charge that Jim Phillips was a professional, he promised to behave himself. Now, what I want to know, Jim, is whether you think he had anything to do with your being kidnaped in Boston the night before the first Harvard game?”

“I can’t say at all positively that he had, Mr. Merriwell,” Phillips answered finally, after going over the whole affair in his mind. “I thought I recognized his voice, but he only spoke once—the man I thought was Parker, I mean—and I never got a look at his face. So I certainly couldn’t make the positive statement that he had anything to do with it.”

“I’m pretty sure he had,” said Brady. “There was no one else who would have had any reason for doing anything of that sort, you know, and Parker could have managed it. He could have pointed us out to the chauffeur of that cab, and they were probably willing to carry me off along with Jim, you know.”

“You’re out of this, Bill,” said Dick, with a smile. “I think as you do, but we need more than thoughts to be sure, you see. I can’t punish Parker unless I’m absolutely certain that he did take part in that affair. I think we’re agreed that his loss of the football captaincy is sufficient punishment for the business of the registered letter. As it happened, that did no serious harm; though, of course, it was no fault of his that we were able to defeat his plans. But you have to consider the effect as well as the intention, and I think we can let that matter drop. However, he was very defiant when we obtained that confession from him.”

“I can’t make any charge against him in that taxicab affair,” Jim decided finally. “I haven’t enough evidence to satisfy myself, much less some unprejudiced person. So, as far as I am concerned, I say, let the thing drop. I’ll be careful hereafter. I’ll see that no one has a chance to do anything of that sort again.”

“There’s Parker now,” said Brady curiously, looking up into the stand, where a score or more of students, who were not themselves players, had assembled to watch the practice.

“Good,” said Dick. “I’ll go up there and read the riot act to him, anyhow. Whether he’s innocent or guilty, that won’t do any harm.”

Parker looked up with unconcealed surprise and hostility when he saw the universal coach making his way toward him through the rows of empty seats.

“What do you want?” he snarled, as Dick dropped into a seat beside him. “You’ve got your way, haven’t you? Your man has been elected as football captain. Can’t you let me alone?”

“I don’t know, Parker,” said Merriwell, laughing. “That depends on you, you know. I didn’t start the trouble between us, and I’m sorry that there had to be any. It was you who tried to spoil Jim Phillips’ record and cause Yale to enter the series with Harvard in a crippled condition. I’ll let you alone as long as you give me no cause to interfere with you. But if you make a move that seems to be unfair or is intended to hurt any of my friends, I will use the confession you signed. That is still in my possession, you know, and it will be enough to cause your expulsion from Yale if I give the word.”

“You forced it out of me,” said Parker. “I don’t think that a confession extracted in that way is any good.”

“Possibly not, if there’s no other evidence,” said Dick cheerfully. “And there’s plenty in this case, you see. Carpenter confessed his part, and Shesgren, as you know, refused to be your tool as soon as he found out what you were doing. Now, there’s another matter. You know something of what happened to Phillips in Boston. Just how much you do know I don’t pretend to say, and I’m not going to ask you, either. But I’m going to warn you to be careful. We are on the lookout; and if you are concerned in anything more of this sort, the evidence of your first plot will go to the dean at once. You know what would happen after that.”

“I’m not admitting anything to you,” said Parker, as insultingly as he could. “But I’m not afraid of you. I’m going to keep my hands out of your affairs altogether. And if you don’t want me to report for football practice in September, all you’ve got to do is to say so.”

“I do want you to play football, of course,” said Dick, “provided that you are willing to behave yourself. I don’t know much about you, Parker, except for the episode of the registered letter. Put yourself in my place. If that was all you knew about another man, you would be likely to distrust him, wouldn’t you, and would want to feel sure that he was powerless to injure you? That’s my only feeling. I don’t bear any ill will. I’m perfectly willing to let the past go, and to consider only the present and the future.

“You’re a man who can do a whole lot for Yale if you will sink your personal ambitions and make up your mind to work for the old college. I would rather have you with me than against me. Why don’t you cut loose from the old ways and try a new deal?”

Parker was surprised at the apparent willingness of Dick Merriwell—whom he regarded as his personal enemy—to be friendly. But he was self-willed and obstinate, and it was very hard for him to get rid of a prejudice once formed in his mind.

“That sounds very fine,” he said, sneering. “But I might as well tell you that I don’t take much stock in it. I’ll look out for myself. If you don’t like the way I do things, you can do the other thing. And if the football team can get along without me, I can certainly get along without the football team.”

He got up abruptly, and took himself off. But he was thinking hard as he went.

“Curse him!” he said, to himself, scowling. “I’ll never be safe as long as he has that confession of mine. I’ll have to tell Foote about that, so that he can work out some scheme for getting it away from him—the sneak! He’d use that now, and ruin me, if anything happened, whether he could prove that I was mixed up in it or not.”

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