Jack Winters Gridiron Chums | Page 8

search. Bob might further satisfy himself, and
believe he was only doing his duty, by coming out again at peep of
dawn and once more covering the ground before giving it up as
hopeless; but Jack felt certain nothing would be found. If that letter had
dropped from the boy's pocket, then some one must have long since
picked it up. He believed he would hear of it if this person, being
honest, delivered the letter at the post-office, and told how he had come
to find it on the vacant lot.
"Well, it's no use looking any further, I guess, Jack," Big Bob now
remarked, in a decidedly dejected tone, after they had gone twice over
the entire width of the three lots, and without any success attending
their efforts.
"I'm afraid not, Bob," the other admitted with genuine regret, because
he felt just as sorry as could be for the poor chap. "I suppose you'll
sleep mighty little tonight, for worrying over this thing. Try your level
best to follow out all you did when in the post-office. Some little thing
may recall to your mind that you certainly did drop that particular letter
in the slot."
"I will, Jack, surely I will," Bob told him, vigorously; "but I'm afraid it
won't do much good. You see, I've become so mixed up by now,
thinking one thing and then another, that no matter what did happen I
couldn't honestly say I remembered it. But I still have a little hope
you'll hear good news from Mr. Dickerson; or that in the morning it
may be handed in at our house, for my dad put his full address on the
back flap, I remember that very distinctly. Yes, I'd be willing to stand
my gruelling and not whimper if only it turned up."
He walked away looking quite down-hearted, Jack saw. Really he felt
very sorry for Big Bob Jeffries. The latter was well liked, having a
genial disposition, like nearly all big boys do, the smaller runts being
the scrappy ones as a rule, as every one knows who has observed the
lads in their play hours, and made any sort of a study of their
characteristics.
On another occasion Jack well remembered he had come very nearly

losing one of the best players on the baseball nine, when the pitcher,
Alec Donohue, appeared exceedingly gloomy, and confessed to Jack
that as his father was unable to obtain work in the Chester mills and
shops, and had been offered a position over in Harmony, he feared that
he would thus become ineligible to pitch for Chester.
But Jack, as so often happened when trouble beset him, took the bull by
the horns. He went and saw a gentleman who could give Mr. Donohue
employment, and enlisted his sympathy. It had all ended right, by a
place being found for the man who was out of work; and so Alec
pitched the great game whereby Harmony's famous team went down to
a crushing defeat.
Jack could not but take note of the similar conditions by which Chester
was to be threatened with the loss of one of the strongest members of
her team.
"Looks as though history liked to repeat itself," Jack mused, as he
walked back home after parting company with Big Bob; "only in this
case it's the football eleven that's liable to be weakened if Bob's father
takes him out; and we never could scare up a fullback equal to him if
we raked old Chester with a fine-tooth comb. So I certainly hope it'll all
come out right yet, I surely do!"

CHAPTER IV
A FRIEND IN NEED

It lacked only five minutes or so of the school hour on the following
morning when Jack Winters, hurrying along, was intercepted by a
disturbed looking boy, who had been impatiently awaiting his arrival.
Of course this was none other than Big Bob Jeffries, who had kept
aloof from all his customary associates ever since arriving, and had
never once taken his eyes off the street along which he knew Jack must
come.
He seized hold of the other eagerly. Jack needed no second look to
convince him that poor Bob had passed a wretched night. His eyes were
red, and there was an expression of mute misery on his usually merry

face, that doubtless had induced more than one fellow to ask if he felt
ill. No doubt Bob had a stereotyped answer to this sympathetic question,
which was to the effect that he was "not feeling himself."
"Oh! I thought you'd never come along, Jack!" he exclaimed, in a voice
that quivered with eagerness and anxiety; "though of course I
understood that you must be waiting for Mr. Dickerson to be free to
talk with