"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 know what you're after. You want to tell some story about me, thinking that I'll be dropped and you can have my place. But you can't. I'll do you yet. I'll show 'em how I can pitch!" He was boasting now, for he was not himself. "Get out of my way, you dirty sneak!" he cried. "I'm going to bat out a home run," and he put some cloves in his mouth. He almost knocked Tom over as he rushed past him and went out in time to take his place at the home plate. He did knock a home run to the delirious delight of the team, but it was short-lived joy, for, just as in the other games, Langridge went to pieces in the box, and Boxer Hall won the game by a score of 8 to 5. But the home run of Langridge so shone out that even Kerr did not have the heart to decry his friend's ragged pitching. Coach Lighton, however, shook his head, as the championship chances for Randall College seemed fading away. "Well," thought Tom as he accompanied the defeated team back that afternoon, "I did my duty, anyhow. I expostulated with him and was insulted for my pains. I did all I could." But that night there came to him something like a voice asking, "Did you?" Tom tossed restlessly on his bed. "What shall I do next?" he thought. CHAPTER XVIII SOME "OLD GRADS" "What's the matter, old man?" inquired Sid the next morning as he rolled over in bed and looked at Tom. "Matter? Why?" "You look as if you'd been drawn through a knot hole, and a small one at that. What's wrong?" "Nothing," and Tom tried to laugh it off. "I didn't sleep very well, that's all." "For that matter, neither did I." "Get out! I heard you snoring away like a boiler blowing off steam." "Then I must have been tired. I never snore unless I am. Wow! ouch! Decameron's Prothonotary!" Sid made a face that indicated intense anguish and put his hand to his side as he turned over in bed. "What's the matter?" asked Tom anxiously. "Strained my side when I slid for second base that time. I didn't notice it yesterday, but it hurts like sin now. Guess I'll have to cut lectures to-day and stay in bed." "What excuse will you give?"