CHAPTER XV

TOM IS SUSPICIOUS

Tom Parsons, who was one of the best all-around athletes at Randall, believed in doing a variety of things in order to keep himself in form. He realized that if he devoted himself exclusively to one thing he might excel in that, to the detriment of some other form of sport. He was one of the best pitchers Randall had ever sent into the box, and it had been said of him that had he devoted more time to running, pole vaulting, broad or high jumping, he could have made fine records at either. But he preferred to be a little better than the average at either one, and yet he did not want to strain himself to be a top-notcher.

“I’m just sort of going to hold myself in reserve,” he said to Holly, “and you can fill me in wherever you need me.”

“Not a bad idea,” the young manager had agreed, and so to-day Tom was practicing with the sixteen pound shot. In order to be out of the way of the others, and so that he might not be too closely watched, Tom had set the toe board some distance off. There he was heaving the shot to his heart’s content.

He was not far from a corner of the gymnasium, which building was now pretty well emptied, since nearly every lad who intended to try for a place in the games was out on the field.

As Tom went to recover the shot, after a “put” that gave him considerable satisfaction from the distance covered, he saw two figures passing behind the angle of the building. One he knew at once for that of Shambler. The other--that of a shabbily dressed man--was not familiar to him.

Since the little episode of the May walk, Tom had had no occasion to speak to Shambler, and the latter, whether or not he was aware of anything unusual, did not show any curiosity over Tom’s behavior.

As Tom heaved the shot again, the toe of his tennis shoe caught on the board, and part of the sole was ripped off.

“Serves me right for using that old pair,” mused the lad. “I’ve got another pair in my locker, I’ll put them on.”

He was rummaging among his things in the gymnasium, when he became aware of voices outside, directly under an open ventilating window. And it did not take very sharp ears to know that one of the voices was Shambler’s. Without in the least meaning to be an eavesdropper, Tom could not help hearing something of what was said.

“You don’t seem at all glad to see me,” spoke the voice of the shabby man.

“Well, maybe not. I wish you hadn’t come here. Why didn’t you send me word, and I could have met you in the village? It doesn’t look good, you coming here on the college grounds.”

“I suppose I’m not dressed well enough,” was the sneering retort.

“Well, never mind about that. Only some of the fellows may be suspicious.”

“Oh, they’ll never guess. You’ve changed your name; haven’t you?”

“Hush! Not so loud! Of course I have, but I can’t change my face, and I’m afraid every day of getting found out. But what do you want, Nelson?”

“What do I always want, but money? Did you think I came here to pass the time of day?”

“I wish you had.”

“What do you mean?” demanded the man, sharply.

“I mean that I haven’t any money for you.”

“Why, look here--er--Shambler--you’ve just got to have money for me.”

“Got to is a strong word, Nelson.”

“I know it, and I mean it. I’m broke I tell you.”

“Then get it from someone else. I haven’t any.”

“Why, what have you been doing here all this while, I’d like to know?” and the man’s voice took on a whine.

“I haven’t been picking up gold dollars, if that’s what you mean, Nelson. I’ve been bucking down and studying hard. It is isn’t as easy at Randall as it was at Harkness.”

“What’d you come here for then?”

“Because athletics are better managed. Now look here. You know the games won’t take place for some time yet, and I can’t get any cash until they’re run off. I have just enough to get along on as it is, but if things go right I’ll have plenty later on.”

“Backing yourself, I suppose?”

“Hush! You can’t tell who may hear you. I tell you it was a big risk for you to come here to-day. I wish you hadn’t. You had better go away now. Go out this way, where no one will notice you.”

“I will when I get some money--not before,” growled the man.

“Oh, hang it, Nelson! Do you want to spoil everything? I tell you I can’t give you any money. Why don’t you go see some of the others?”

“They’re broke too. I was counting on you, and I’ve just got to have it. Come now, fork over. You can cut out some of your fancy business, and make it up.”

“Fancy business? I’m living plainer than any one else in college. I haven’t given a spread, and I don’t go to ’em when I can help it, for I can’t return the compliment.”

“So that’s why he hasn’t been around much,” mused Tom. “He hasn’t the money. Well, that’s nothing against him, but I must say I’m suspicious of this talk. I--I wish I hadn’t heard it.”

Tom had on his other shoes now, and was preparing to leave the gymnasium. Then the voices resumed.

“Well, I’ll spare you a little,” said Shambler, “though it’s a hard pull. Now don’t you come back here until after the games. If all goes right you’ll get your share.”

“I should think I would, after what I’ve done for you,” retorted the other. “Come on now, fork over. I’m in a hurry.”

“I’ll have to get it. It’s in my clothes in the gym. Wait here for me.”

Tom changed his mind about going out just then, as he felt that he might meet Shambler. He slipped into one of the shower bath compartments and waited there until he heard the runner enter and leave again. Then came the jingle of coins through the open window, and the sound of retreating footsteps.

“That sure was queer,” mused Tom, as he slipped from the gymnasium, and went back at his shot putting. “I wonder what sort of a hold that fellow had on Shambler, to get money out of him? It looks bad, and yet I can’t say anything.”

“I didn’t mean to listen, but, since I did, I can’t tell anyone that I did. But it sure is queer. I wonder how he expects to make any money off the games, unless he bets on Randall? Of course, that’s legitimate enough, if one believes in betting.”

Tom shook his head. It was too much for him. And, as he thought of how Shambler had, of late, crossed his path in more ways than one, the tall pitcher was more and more puzzled over the growing mystery.

“I wish I could tell the fellows, and talk it over with them,” he went on, as he made an extraordinary good put. “But it’s out of the question. I’ll have to puzzle it out by myself. But I’ll keep my eyes open for that shabby looking man.”

The fellow was not in sight when Tom came out of the gymnasium, and Shambler had resumed his training, while Tom went back to the seven foot circle.

“Well, I guess we’ve had enough for to-day,” called Holly Cross to the various contestants, a little later. “No use overdoing the thing, and going stale. Knock off, everybody!”

“And glad enough we are to do it, too!” gasped Dutch, who was in a perspiration from his efforts. Everyone was in a healthy glow, and as Holly and Kindlings looked at the notes of some of the records made that day there was a look of satisfaction between them.

“If this keeps up we’ll be all right,” remarked Holly.

“That’s right. Everything seems to be going well, but, of course, we want all the points we can get. I think the new hurdles are an improvement. There’s no danger of a fellow getting hurt, and it gives him more confidence as he approaches them. We must insist on them in the games.”

“Think the others will agree to ’em.”

“Oh, yes. We’ve given in to them on lots of points, and it’s no more than fair that they should concede something to us.”

“Do you think they’ll all decide on Tonoka Park as the place to hold the games?”

“I’m almost sure of it. It’s big enough, and will hold a good crowd. That’s what we want so we can get plenty of admission money. Boxer and Fairview are in favor of Tonoka, and so are we. Exter will have to agree with three against her.”

“They had rather stiff nerve to want the contests to come off on their grounds.”

“Yes, but I don’t anticipate trouble there.”

And the two managers walked on, talking over many points yet to be settled.

“Well, Tom, how goes it?” asked Sid as the four chums entered the gymnasium for showers.

“Pretty good. I didn’t strain myself to-day, but I’m coming on.”

“That’s good. Say, I hear that Shambler is doing well on the mile run.”

“Yes,” admitted Tom shortly. “He’s a good runner.”

“Tom’s still sore,” murmured Sid to Frank.

“Can’t blame him. You’d be too.”

Then conversation was interrupted by the splashing of water, to be succeeded by various grunts and puffings, as the boys vigorously rubbed down after their practice.

“Telegram for you, Mr. Parsons,” announced one of the messengers about the college, as he met our hero coming from the gymnasium. “I’ve been up to your room, but you weren’t there.”

“Thanks,” murmured Tom, as he ripped off the end of the yellow envelope. His companions watched his face curiously as he read the message.

“Hum, I’ve got to go home,” announced Tom, a moment later.