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He wants to beat Camden, but he wouldn't win in a crooked way for a thousand dollars. He'd be the first to jump on a chap that was caught doin' up a Camden man."
"He needn't know it," said Snell, and then he whispered some more, but he couldn't seem to win Bixton over.
"All right," said Snell. "You'll be sorry when you lose your fifty plunks."
"I ain't lost 'em yet."
"You will if Frank Merriwell pitches the whole game."
Practice was over, the umpire took his place and called "play," the Camden team was in the field. Merriwell walked down into the box. He wore his Yale uniform, as he had been unable to obtain a Camden uniform that would fit him.
The Rockland crowd looked at Merriwell with curiosity, but all the applause he received came from the Camden rooters. At one side of the diamond were gathered twenty small boys. Usually these youngsters were full of taunts and jeers for Camden, but now they were strangely silent.
One of them turned to the others and said:
"Fellers, Rockland eats dirt ter-day! We kin lick anything else on ther face of ther earth, but we can't do up that battery. I've read all about Frank Merriwell, an' there ain't nothin' walks on two legs what kin pitch ball with him!"
Strange to relate, he was not disputed in the a.s.sertion.
The umpire broke open a box and tossed a beautiful new "Spaulding" to Merry, who caught it and rubbed a handful of dirt over it.
Smithers advanced to the plate. Frank had heard that it was impossible to discover the little man's weak point, and he resolved to start right in by fooling him--if possible.
Hodge knew what was coming when Merry a.s.sumed a certain att.i.tude. Then, without any flourish, Frank shot in what seemed at the start to be a straight, swift ball.
Smithers took it for an inshoot, and, in his judgment, it must be a fair ball. He swung for it, and then he dropped his bat and gasped.
The ball had reversed from an in to an out, causing Smithers to miss it by at least six inches!
It was Merriwell's wonderful double shoot!
Those in the grand stand who had seen the double curve of the ball uttered exclamations of amazement, and some of them would not believe their eyes had not deceived them.
Smithers picked up his bat, muttering:
"If I'd been drinking lately I wouldn't wonder at it!"
Hodge returned the ball, and in a moment Merry was ready to deliver again. Smithers fancied he had been deceived by his eyes, and so, when Frank pitched another ball that was exactly like the first, he smashed at it again.
And missed again!
There was a commotion in the grand stand. A loud voice was heard declaring the ball had curved in and out, and that Merriwell was a wizard. Another person was speaking soothingly to the excited individual.
Not a sound from the Camden rooters, for their leader was holding them in check. He had not given the signal for applause.
On all the ground there was no man half as amazed as Smithers. He fancied he had batted all kinds of pitching, but here was something new to him.
There was a hush as Frank again a.s.sumed position for delivery. Smithers a.s.sumed a look of determination and made ready. Then the Yale pitcher shot in another ball, this time changing his curves so the sphere started with an out and suddenly changed to an in.
Seeing it was an out at the start, Smithers instantly decided that it must go beyond his reach. When it changed to an in, and pa.s.sed over the plate, it was too late to get his bat round, and so he stood with the "wagon tongue" poised, not even having offered at it.
"Three strikes--out!" called the umpire.
Then the Camden crowd could be held no longer. Never before had Smithers been struck out like that. But three b.a.l.l.s had been pitched, and yet, the crack batter of the Rocklands, a man without a weak point, was retired. The men and boys from under Megunticook rose up and yelled like a thousand fiends. They felt that a man who could strike Smithers out like that would have a snap with the rest of the team, and the joy in their hearts knew no bounds.
For once the Rockland rooters were silent. They did not even have sufficient nerve left to guy the Camdenites. They stared and stared at the man who had struck out Smithers with three pitched b.a.l.l.s, and their dismay and disgust knew no bounds.
"What's the matter that Rockland didn't get that feller?" growled one.
"It was a fool trick to let Camden get him!"
Smithers walked to the bench and sat down in a dazed way, muttering:
"Well, I'll be blowed!"
Edwards picked up a bat and advanced to the plate with his usual swagger.
"Just try that on me," he invited.
Instantly Frank decided to do so. Bart was ready, and Merry snapped in a swift one, giving it the double curve. Edwards let it pa.s.s.
"One strike!" cried the umpire.
A roar from the Camden crowd.
Bart sent back the ball. Edwards grinned and then scowled. He made ready. Frank reversed the curves and drove in a whistler that could scarcely be seen as it pa.s.sed through the air.
This time Edwards struck, but he found only empty air.
"Two strikes!" from the umpire.
Another roar from the Camden crowd.
Edwards began to look doubtful.
"What are we up against?" he muttered to himself.
Merriwell took his time to pitch the third ball. All at once he seemed to send in one like the last. Edwards believed the double curve would cause it to cross over the plate, and he struck at it.
It proved to be a straight ball, and Edwards never touched it!
"Striker is out!" decided the umpire.
It is impossible to describe the tumult that followed. For once, at least, Camden was well represented on the Rockland ground, and the rooters for the boys in crimson could not make noise enough. Their hour of triumph had arrived, and they were making the most of it.
Edwards looked sour enough as he went to the bench.
"What's the matter?" asked Gulsiver, who was swinging two bats so that one would seem lighter to him when he came to strike.
"That Yale chap is the devil!" growled Edwards.