With Pete went Whistle-Breeches, to help in the inquiry, and Bob Chapin accompanied Cap. Meanwhile Captain Armitage was in despair, for he had counted on Bill to win the biggest part of the game, and without him he was sure his nine would lose. On the other hand there was rejoicing in the Tuckerton camp, when it was known that Bill was missing, though only a few of the members of the nine and its supporters, guessed the cause of his absence. Noon came, and Bill was still among the missing. Cap had obtained no news at the town garage, and though Pete had learned that Borden of Tuckerton, owned a car, he could not locate that youth or his machine. For the nine had some grounds a distance from the school to practice before the big game. “I guess it’s no use,” said Cap despairingly. “It’s a queer sort of a joke, if that’s what it is, and it looks as if Bill would be out of the game. You’ll have to play without him, Armitage.” “Well, I’ll wait until the last minute,” decided the captain. “He may get away and join us. Lucky it’s on our own grounds. We’ll have that advantage. Poor Bill. I wonder where he is?” CHAPTER XXVI JUST IN TIME Bill Smith, about that same time, was wondering the same thing. He had dozed off after his captors had left him, but, with the first glint of morning sun into the room where he was a prisoner he had awakened. He was still bound. “Well, this is pretty punk!” he exclaimed. “To think that they got ahead of me this way! I wonder where I am, anyhow? And I wonder how I can get away, and back—Great muskmelons! If I don’t show up at the game—” The thought was too much for Bill. He resolved on bold tactics. Considering that his promise not to make an outcry ended with the leaving of his captors, he raised his voice in a shout. “Help! Come here, somebody! Let me out! Police!” Bill didn’t particularly want the police, for he knew that his captivity was the result of some school prank, and the boys never called on the officers of the law if they could help it. But “Police!” was an easy word to say, and it carried well. Therefore the captive yelled it again and again. But there was no answer to his cries, and after straining his throat until it ached, the pitcher decided that he had better save his breath and try other means to escape. “First to see if I can’t get rid of some of these ropes on my arms and legs,” he murmured. He tugged and strained at them, after wiggling to a sitting position, but the knots had been made with care, and held. Bill tried to pull his hands from the loops but it was useless, and his feet were equally secure. He could not gnaw through the ropes as he had sometimes read of prisoners doing, for his hands were tied behind his back.