"Only a couple of times, and I fancy she didn't know his true character. She gave him his quietus soon enough after the trick he tried to play with the mirror."
"That's so. Well, I wish this tangle would be straightened out somehow. It's getting on my nerves."
"A baseball 'varsity captain shouldn't have nerves."
"I know it, but I can't help it. Hello, some one's coming. Maybe it's Sid."
"No, it's Dutch Housenlager, by his tread," and Phil's guess was right.
"Glad I found somebody in," remarked Dutch, as he was about to throw himself with considerable force on the old sofa. Tom grabbed the catcher, and shunted him off to one side so violently that Dutch sat down on the floor, with a jar that shook the room.
"Here, what's that for?" he demanded, somewhat dazed.
"It was to save our sofa," Tom explained. "You were coming down on it as if you were making a flying tackle. It would have been broken like a half-sawed-through goal post if you had landed. I side-tracked you, that's all."
"Oh," answered Dutch, as he slowly arose. "Next time I wish you'd serve notice on me when you're going to do a thing like that, and I'll wear my football suit," and he rubbed his back gingerly.
"Would you mind translating your remark about being glad you found somebody in?" requested Phil.
"With pleasure, son. I've been to about sixteen different domiciles this evening, and every one was vacant. I've got something to talk about. Where's Sid?"
"He went out a while ago," answered Tom, uneasily.
"Seems to me you fellows aren't as chummy as you once were," remarked Dutch, taking a seat in the old armchair, after a questioning look at Tom, who nodded a permission.
"Oh, yes, we are," exclaimed Phil quickly. "Isn't it fierce that Sid's off the team."
"Rotten--simply rotten," agreed Dutch. "Just when we need him most. Why didn't you chaps keep him in the straight and narrow path that leads to baseball victories?"
"We tried," came quickly from Phil. "But Sid----"
"Oh, it'll be all right," interrupted Tom. "I think things will straighten themselves out." In his heart he did not believe this, but he did not want Dutch to go away with the idea that there was a cloud hanging over the "inseparables." That would never do. "I have an idea that the faculty will relent at the last minute," went on the captain. "Especially when they know that the championship depends on it. Then they'll let Sid play. If they don't we'll get up another petition, and make Bascome and his crowd sign, or we'll run 'em out of college."