Quite amazed, Wayne turned squarely to look at Miss Huling.Instead of disarming his quick suspicion, her cool, sweet voice, and brave, blue eyes confirmed it.The charms of the captain's sister were to be used to win him away from the Bellville nine.He knew the trick; it had been played upon him before.
But never had any other such occasion given him a feeling of regret.This case was different.
She was the girl.And she meant to flirt with him, to use her eyes for all they were worth to encompass the Waterloo of the rival team.
No, he had made a mistake, after all--she was not the real girl.Suddenly conscious of a little shock of pain, he dismissed that dream girl from his mind, and determined to meet Miss Huling half way in her game.He could not flirt as well as he could pitch; still, he was no novice.
``Well, Miss Huling, my word certainly is not involved.But as to pitching for Salisbury--that depends.''
``Upon what?''
``Upon what there is in it.''
``Mr.Wayne, you mean--money? Oh, I know.
My brother Rex told me how you college men are paid big sums.Our association will not give a dollar, and, besides, my brother knows nothing of this.But we girls are heart and soul on winning this game.We'll----''
``Miss Huling, I didn't mean remuneration in sordid cash,'' interrupted Wayne, in a tone that heightened the color in her cheeks.
Wayne eyed her keenly with mingled emotions.
Was that rose-leaf flush in her cheeks natural?
Some girls could blush at will.Were the wistful eyes, the earnest lips, only shamming? It cost him some bitterness to decide that they were.
Her beauty fascinated, while it hardened him.
Eternally, the beauty of women meant the undoing of men, whether they played the simple, inconsequential game of baseball, or the great, absorbing, mutable game of life.
The shame of the situation for him was increasingly annoying, inasmuch as this lovely girl should stoop to flirtation with a stranger, and the same time draw him, allure him, despite the apparent insincerity.
``Miss Huling, I'll pitch your game for two things,'' he continued.
``Name them.''
``Wear Yale blue in place of that orange-and-black Princeton pin.''
``I will.'' She said it with a shyness, a look in her eyes that made Wayne wince.What a perfect little actress! But there seemed just a chance that this was not deceit.For an instant he wavered, held back by subtle, finer intuition; then he beat down the mounting influence of truth in those dark-blue eyes, and spoke deliberately:
``The other thing is--if I win the game--a kiss.''
Dorothy Huling's face flamed scarlet.But this did not affect Wayne so deeply, though it showed him his mistake, as the darkening shadow of disappointment in her eyes.If she had been a flirt, she would have been prepared for rudeness.He began casting about in his mind for some apology, some mitigation of his offense; but as he was about to speak, the sudden fading of her color, leaving her pale, and the look in her proud, dark eyes disconcerted him out of utterance.
``Certainly, Mr.Wayne.I agree to your price if you win the game.''
But how immeasurable was the distance between the shy consent to wear Yale blue, and the pale, surprised agreement to his second proposal!
Wayne experienced a strange sensation of personal loss.
While he endeavored to find his tongue, Miss Huling spoke to one of the boys standing near, and he started off on a run for the field.Presently Huling and the other players broke for the car, soon surrounding it in breathless anticipation.
``Wayne, is it straight? You'll pitch for us tomorrow?'' demanded the captain, with shining eyes.
``Surely I will.Bellville don't need me.
They've got Mackay, of Georgetown,'' replied Wayne.
Accustomed as he was to being mobbed by enthusiastic students and admiring friends, Wayne could not but feel extreme embarrassment at the reception accorded him now.He felt that he was sailing under false colors.The boys mauled him, the girls fluttered about him with glad laughter.
He had to tear himself away; and when he finally reached his hotel, he went to his room, with his mind in a tumult.
Wayne cursed himself roundly; then he fell into deep thought.He began to hope he could retrieve the blunder.He would win the game; he would explain to her the truth; he would ask for an opportunity to prove he was worthy of her friendship;he would not mention the kiss.This last thought called up the soft curve of her red lips and that it was possible for him to kiss her made the temptation strong.
His sleep that night was not peaceful and dreamless.He awakened late, had breakfast sent to his room, and then took a long walk out into the country.After lunch he dodged the crowd in the hotel lobby, and hurried upstairs, where he put on his baseball suit.The first person he met upon going down was Reed, the Bellville man.
``What's this I hear, Wayne, about your pitching for Salisbury today? I got your telegram.''
``Straight goods,'' replied Wayne.
``But I thought you intended to pitch for us?''
``I didn't promise, did I?''
``No.Still, it looks fishy to me.''
``You've got Mackay, haven't you?''
``Yes.The truth is, I intended to use you both.''
``Well, I'll try to win for Salisbury.Hope there's no hard feeling.''
``Not at all.Only if I didn't have the Georgetown crack, I'd yell murder.As it is, we'll trim Salisbury anyway.''
``Maybe,'' answered Wayne, laughing.``It's a hot day, and my arm feels good.''
When Wayne reached the ball grounds, he thought he had never seen a more inspiring sight.
The bright green oval was surrounded by a glittering mass of white and blue and black.Out along the foul lines were carriages, motors, and tally-hos, brilliant with waving fans and flags.
Over the field murmured the low hum of many voices.
``Here you are!'' cried Huling, making a grab for Wayne.``Where were you this morning?
We couldn't find you.Come! We've got a minute before the practice whistle blows, and I promised to exhibit you.''
