Merriwell said this in a quiet manner, not at all as if he were trying to dictate, and Putnam made no reply. However, he spoke to Blossom, who was picking out his bat.

"Look here, Uncle," he said, "I want you to get first base in some way.

Do you understand?--in some way. If you can't make a hit or get it on b.a.l.l.s, get hit."

Blossom made a wry face.

"Coulter's got speed to burn," he said, "but I'll try to get hit if he gives me an in, even though it kills me."

"That's what I want," returned Old Put, grimly. "Never mind if it does kill you. We are after scores, and a life or two is of small consequence."

"That's a pleasant way of looking at it," muttered Blossom as he advanced to the plate. "Here goes nothing!"

The very first ball was an inshoot, and Blossom pretended to dodge and slip. The ball took him in the side and keeled him over instantly. He was given a little water, whereupon he got up and trotted down to first, his hand clinging to his side, but grinning a bit in a sly way.

There was a brief discussion about giving Blossom a runner, but when one was chosen who could not run as well as he could himself, he suddenly found himself in condition to get along all right.

Merriwell took his place at the bat, having selected a bat that was a trifle over regulation length, if anything.

Frank saw a hole in right field, and he hoped to be able to place a hit right there. If he could do it, there was a chance for Blossom to get around to third on a single.

Coulter knew nothing of Merriwell's batting, so he was forced to experiment on the man. He tried a drop that almost hit the plate, but Frank did not bite. Then Coulter sent over a high one, and still Merriwell refused to swing, and two b.a.l.l.s had been called.

Coulter had a trick of holding a man close on first, and so Blossom had not obtained lead enough to attempt to steal second.

Frank felt that Coulter would make an attempt to get the next one over the outside or inside corner of the plate, as it would not do to have three b.a.l.l.s in succession called without a single strike.

Merriwell was right. Coulter sent one over the inside corner, using a straight ball. Still Merriwell did not offer at it, for he could not have placed it in the right field if he had tried.

"One strike!" called the umpire.

Although he seemed quite unconcerned, Sport Harris had been nettled when Rattleton won the ten-dollar bet, and he now said:

"I will go you even money, Rattleton, that Merriwell does not get a hit. If he goes down on four b.a.l.l.s the bet is off."

"I'll stand you," nodded Harry, laughingly. "Why, Harris, I never dreamed you were such an easy mark! Merriwell is bound to get a hit."

"Ha! ha!" mocked Harris. "Is that so? And he just let a good one pa.s.s without wiggling his bat!"

"It wasn't where he wanted it."

"And Coulter will not give him one where he wants it."

"Coulter doesn't know anything about Merriwell's batting, and so he is liable to make a break at any moment."

This proved right, for Coulter tried to fool Frank with an outcurve on the next delivery. He started the ball exactly as he had the one before it, to all appearances as if he meant to send another straight one over the inside corner. He believed Merriwell would bite at it, and he was right.

But right there Coulter received a shock, for Merriwell leaned forward as he swung, a.s.suming such a position that the ball must have hit him if it had been a straight one. It had a sharp, wide curve, and pa.s.sed at least ten inches beyond the plate.

Pa.s.sed? Not much! Merriwell hit it, and sent a "daisy cutter" down into right field, exactly where he wished to place it.

Down on the coach line near first little Danny Griswold had convulsions. He whooped like a wild Indian.

"Spring, ye snails! Tear up the dust, ye sons of Eli! Two--make it two, Blos, old boy! Why, this game is easy now! We've just got started!

Whoop! Whoopee!"

In going over second Blossom tripped and fell heavily. When he scrambled to his feet he was somewhat dazed, and it was too late for him to try for third. He saw Halliday down by third motioning wildly for him to get back and hold second, but there was such a roar of voices that he could not hear a word the coachers were saying. However, the signals were enough, and he got back.

Now the "Sons of Eli" were all on their feet, and they were making the air quiver. It was enough to inspire any man to do or die, and it is doubtful if there was not a man on the Yale team who did not feel at that moment that he was willing to lay down his life, if necessary, to win that game.

When the shouting had subsided in a measure, Rattleton was heard to shout from his perch on the shoulders of a companion, to which position he had shinned in his excitement:

"Right here is where we trick our little do, gentlemen--er--I mean we do our little trick. Ready to the air of 'Oh, Give Us a Drink, Bartender.'

Let her go!"

Then the Yale crowd broke into an original song, the words of which were:

"Oh, hammer it out, Old Eli, Old Eli, As you always have, you know; For it's sure that we're all behind you, behind you, And we will cheer you as you go.

We're in the game to stay, my lads, my lads, We will win it easily, too; So give three cheers for old 'Umpty-eight-- Three cheers for the boys in blue!

Breka Co ax, Co ax, Co ax!

Breka Co ax, Co ax, Co ax!

O--up! O--up!

Parabaloo-- Yale! Yale! Yale!

'Rah! 'rah! 'rah!

Yale!"

The enthusiasm which this created was immense, and the next man walked up to the plate filled with determination. However, Old Put was shrewd enough to know the man might be too eager, and so he gave the signal for him to take one anyway.

Coulter was decidedly nervous, as was apparent to everybody, and it seemed that there was a chance of getting him badly rattled. That was exactly what the Yale crowd was doing its best to accomplish.

Merriwell crept away from first for a long lead, but it was not easy to get, as Coulter drove him back with sharp throws each time. Then Blossom came near being caught napping off second, but was given "safe" on a close decision.

Suddenly Coulter delivered, and the batter obeyed Old Put and did not offer, although it was right over the heart of the plate.

"One strike!" was called.

Now came the time for the attempted double steal that Frank had suggested. Putnam decided to try it on, and he signaled for it. At the same time he signaled the batter to make a swing to bother the catcher, but not to touch the ball.

Frank pretended to cling close to first, but he was watching for Coulter's slightest preliminary motion in the way of delivery. It came, and Old Put yelled from the coach line, where he had replaced Griswold:

"Gear!"

Frank got a beautiful start, and Blossom made a break for third. If Blossom had secured a lead equal to Merriwell's he would have made third easily. As it was, the catcher snapped the ball down with a short-arm throw, and Blossom was caught by a foot.

Then it was Harvard's turn, and the Cambridge lads made the most of it.

A great roar went up, and the crimson seemed to be fluttering everywhere.

"Har-vard! Har-vard! Har-vard! 'Rah! 'rah! 'rah! 'Rah! 'rah! 'rah! 'Rah!

'rah! 'rah! Harvard!"