Tom Fairfield's Pluck and Luck Part 21

"I am afraid I'll have to," said Tom quietly, as he turned aside. "But if you fellows think------"

"Say, if you intimate such a thing as that we believe you guilty I'll punch your face!" cried Jack, with a laugh, in which there was no mirth. "Won't we, Bert?"

"We sure will! Now come on to Latin cla.s.s;" and with their arms still about their chum, showing their loyalty to him in his time of trouble, the boys pa.s.sed on across the campus, followed by many eyes.

CHAPTER XVI

TOM SEEKS CLEWS

"Well, Tom, what's the answer; anyhow?"

"Don't talk about it if you don't want to."

Thus Jack and Bert spoke as they entered their room with their chum shortly before luncheon on the day of the sensational disclosures in chapel.

Tom looked at his two friends, and then sank down rather wearily in a chair.

"I don't mind talking about it," he said, with an attempt at a smile.

"In fact I was going to propose it myself. I've got some hard work ahead of me."

"What kind?" asked Jack quickly. "Let us help you."

"Sure," chimed in Bert. "Count on us, Tom. What are you going to do?"

"Clear my name, that's what I going to do. And I've got a hard job ahead of me."

"Not with us to help you!" exclaimed Jack.

"That's the worst of it," spoke Tom ruefully. "You fellows can't help me."

"Why not, I'd like to know," came from Bert quickly.

"Well, there are certain reasons. Look here, fellows, I'd tell you in a minute, if I could, but I can't. I'm bound to silence in a way, and I can't speak as I'd like to."

"But surely it oughtn't to be so hard for you to clear your name,"

insisted Jack. "All you've got to do is to prove that you weren't near the farm at the time the horses were poisoned, nor were you when the stacks caught fire. That ought to be easy."

"And surely you can show that if it wasn't you wearing that sweater, at the time the farmer saw you, it was someone else," went on Bert. "It was someone else; wasn't it, Tom?"

"Say, don't ask me any more questions," begged Tom. "I can't answer 'em all, and I don't want to get tangled up. All I can say is that I didn't have the first thing to do with those crimes, and I'm going to work to prove that I didn't. It's harder than it seems, but I'll do it."

"That's right!" exclaimed Jack. "You've got pluck enough Tom, old man."

"And I may need some luck, too," added our hero. "If I have that I think I'll be all right."

"Not a bad combination," commented Bert. "Pluck and luck. With 'em both you can do a heap."

"That's right," admitted Tom. "And now I'm going to do some boning, and get ahead with my work so I'll have a little time to hunt for clews."

"Clews?" murmured Jack.

"Yes, clews as to who poisoned these horses and set the hay on fire.

You see it's not enough to say that I _didn't_ do it. I've got to find the person who _did_."

"Well, I wish you luck," murmured Jack.

"And if there's anything we can do, don't hesitate to let us know,"

added Bert, at which his chum nodded.

"Don't let this get on your nerves so you can't play football Sat.u.r.day," suggested Jack.

"I guess it won't," laughed Tom.

But whether it was the suspicion hanging over him, or because he was nervous, certainly he did not play well in that first gridiron match of the season. Nor was he the only one of the eleven who did poorly.

From the very first it was seen that Elmwood Hall had met her match.

Her opponents scored a touchdown in the first five minutes of play, and this rather took the heart out of Tom and his chums.

True they braced, and prevented any more scoring for the next two periods. Then came a chance fer them to rush the ball over the line.

Tom worked to his limit and managed to gain much ground. Then came a fatal fumble, just when he might have been shoved over for the tieing of the score.

In his own heart Tom felt that Sam had deliberately pa.s.sed the ball to him short. Tom had to lean forward to grab it, his foot slipped, and the coveted pigskin was grabbed by an opposing player. It was run out of danger before the man was downed, and then it was too late to make good the loss. Tom groaned in anguish, and for one wild moment he felt like accusing Sam openly.

"No, that would never do," he reasoned. "They would all say I did it for spite, and because he gave that information against me. I've got to grin and bear it."

Nor was Tom much surprised when he was s.h.i.+fted to the scrub at the next practice.

"I hate to do it, old man," said the coach, "but you seem to have gone a bit stale. You aren't overtrained; are you?"

"I don't think so," said Tom bitterly.

"Well, maybe a change will do you good. I'll give you a game later on, if you pick up."

And, deeply regretting what he felt he had to do, the coach went off to talk to the captain about some other changes.

"Say, this is sure tough!" complained Jack to Bert, that night in their room. "Tom off the team!"

"And with this cloud hanging over him," added his chum. "Where is Tom now, anyhow?"

"Give it up. He said he was going for a walk."

"He feels bad I guess. I don't blame him. Say, what do you think of this thing, anyhow, Jack?"

"I don't know, Bert, it--well, hang it all, it looks mighty queer. I might as well say it as think it."