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Updated: June 24, 2025
"See here, Ted Teall," cried Hi suddenly, holding the trousers forward, "what did you do with my gold watch that was in the pocket of these trousers." "I didn't see your old watch," grumbled Ted. "Then you lost it out of the pocket while running through the woods, did you?" insisted Hi angrily. Teall felt cold sweat come out on his neck and forehead.
Certainly Hi's fielders promised well, from the little glimpse of their skill that was now had. Then one of their best batsmen took up the willow, driving a few long, swift fielders. "This will get the Centrals nervous before they start, if they see any of our work," laughed one of Hi's players. Truth to tell, the North Grammar boys did show some pretty work. Ted Teall looked on approvingly.
"He hasn't told us," Dave rejoined. But Hi, who felt that he was being shamefully used by the crowd, suddenly broke in with: "If your name is Garwood, then Ted Teall meant that you're the one that's crazy. And I know where the boys have gone. They're not looking for my clothes at all. They're looking for constables to come and seize you!"
Teall gained the thicket that concealed the other clothing. Just as he was about to cast Martin's belongings after the other wardrobes, he was disturbed by a sound close at hand. With a start Ted looked up. Then he felt uneasy; frightened, in fact. At his side stood a shabbily dressed man of middle age. The man's cheeks were sunken, though they burned with an unhealthy glow.
"Don't try to fool us," advised Dick bitterly. "Martin, you may have thought it funny, but it was a mean trick to serve us, and I am glad that Teall has shown you how little he likes you." Under ordinary circumstances Ted might have left Hi Martin's clothes behind. It had been Hi's impolitic remark about "mucker schools" that had decided Ted to take away Hi's belongings as well.
I don't see anything about it to shatter the nerves of a hardy youth like Ted Teall," Greg muttered. "This ball is just wound with string and covered with pieces of old glove. Why, it's so soft that I don't believe I could throw it straight." Greg raised the home-made ball to throw it. "Here! Don't toss it, or you may put it out of business," objected Prescott, taking it away from his friend.
Ted felt the blood rush to his head and all looked red before him. "Strike three! Side out! Game!" came slowly, steadily from the umpire. Then the score-keeper rose to his feet. "Central Grammar wins by a score of three to nothing." This time Ted Teall didn't throw his bat. Gripping it savagely, he stalked over to a group of his own schoolmates.
"The watch must have been in the trousers when I snatched 'em up, and the watch wasn't there when I returned the trousers. What will folks naturally think? Oh, I wonder if there ever was as unlucky a fellow in the world before?" A great lump formed in Ted's throat as he puzzled over this problem. "Hello, Teall!" called a hearty voice.
Ted Teall, sore and angry, had come away from town all by himself. He wanted a long swim in the pond, to see if that would cool off the anger that consumed him. Hearing voices as he came through the woods, Ted halted first, then, crawling along the ground, made his way cautiously forward. And now the captain of the South Grammar nine lay flat, his head hidden behind a clump of low bushes.
"Having fun over me, are they?" growled Ted. "It was a rough trick to play, of course," laughed Dick. "But I felt so wholly certain Ted's fellows would start in to break us up that I felt I had to spring that torpedo trick in order to shut the other crowd up in advance." "Oh, you did, did you?" thought Teall angrily. "But now there's something else to be thought of," Prescott went on.
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