"Paul," said the great man of the 'Varsity crew, "that fellow is fast enough for the regular team."

"You said so before."

"And I say so again."

Now it became evident to everybody that Coulter was in a pitiful state, for he could not find the plate at all, and the next man went down on four b.a.l.l.s, filling the bases.

But that was not the end of it. The next batter got four b.a.l.l.s, and a score was forced in.

Then it was seen that Peck, Harvard's change pitcher, was warming up, and it became evident that the captain had decided to put him into the box.

If the next Yale man had not been altogether too eager to get a hit, there is no telling when the inning would have stopped. He sent a high-fly foul straight into the air, and the catcher succeeded in gathering it in.

The inning closed with quite a change in the score, Harvard having a lead of but three, where it had been seven in the lead at the end of the sixth.

"I am afraid they will get on to Merriwell this time," said Sport Harris, with a shake of his head.

"Hey!" squealed Rattleton, who was quivering all over. "I'll give you a chance to even up with me. I'll bet you twenty that Harvard doesn't score."

"Oh, well, I'll have to stand you, just for fun," murmured Harris as he extracted a twenty-dollar bill from the roll it was said he always carried and handed it to Deacon Dunning. "Shove up your dough, Rattle."

Harry covered the money promptly, and then he laughed.

"This cakes the take--I mean takes the cake! I never struck such an easy way of making money! I say, fellows, we'll open something after the game, and I'll pay for it with what I win off Harris."

"That will be nice," smiled Harris; "but you may not be loaded with my money after the game."

The very first batter up, got first on an error by the second baseman who let an easy one go through him.

"The money is beginning to look my way as soon as this," said Harris.

"It is looking your way to bid you good-by," chuckled Harry, not in the least disturbed or anxious.

Merriwell had a way of snapping his left foot out of the box for a throw to first, and it kept the runner hugging the bag all the time.

Frank also had another trick of holding the ball in his hand and appearing to give his trousers a hitch, upon which he would deliver the ball when neither runner nor batter was expecting him to do so, and yet his delivery was perfectly proper.

He struck the next man out, and the batter to follow hit a weak one to third, who stopped the runner at second.

Two men were out, and still there was a man on first. Now it looked dark for Harvard that inning, and not a safe hit had been made off Merriwell thus far.

The Harvard crowd was getting anxious. Was it possible that Merriwell would hold them down so they could not score, and Yale would yet pull out by good work at the bat?

The captain said a few words to the next batter before the man went up to the plate, and Frank felt sure the fellow had been advised to take his time.

Having made up his mind to this, Frank sent a swift straight one directly over, and, as he had expected, the batter let it pa.s.s, which caused the umpire to call a strike.

Still keeping the runner hugging first, Frank seemed to start another ball in exactly the same manner. It was not a straight one, but it was a very slow drop, as the batter discovered after he had commenced to swing. Finding he could not recover, the fellow went after the ball with a scooping movement, and then did not come within several inches of it, greatly to the delight of the Yale crowd.

"Oh, Merry has every blooming one of them on a string!" cried Rattleton.

"He thon't do a wing to 'em--I mean he won't do a thing to 'em."

The Yale men were singing songs of victory already, and the Harvard crowd was doing its best to keep up the courage of its team by rooting hard.

It was a most exciting game.

"The hottest game I ever saw played by freshmen," commented Collingwood.

"It is a corker," confessed Pierson. "We weren't looking for anything of the sort a short time ago."

"I should say not. Up to the time Merriwell went in it looked as if Harvard had a walkover."

"Gordon feels bad enough about it, that is plain. He is trying to appear cheerful on the bench, but--"

"He can't stand it any longer; he's leaving."

That was right. Gordon had left the players' bench and was walking away.

He tried to look pleased at the way things were going, but the attempt was a failure.

"Merriwell is the luckiest fellow alive," he thought. "If I had stayed in another inning the game might have changed. He is pitching good ball, but I'm hanged if I can understand why they do not hit him. It looks easy."

Neither could the Harvard lads thoroughly understand it, although there were some who realized that Merriwell was using his head, as well as speed and curves. And he did not use speed all the time. He had a fine change of pace, sandwiching in his slow b.a.l.l.s at irregular intervals, but delivering them with what seemed to be exactly the same motion that he used on the speedy ones.

The fourth batter up struck out, and again Harvard was retired without a score, which caused the Yale crowd to cheer so that some of the lads got almost black in the face.

"Well! well! well!" laughed Rattleton, as Deacon Dunning pa.s.sed over the money he had been holding. "This is like chicking perries--I mean picking cherries. All I have to do is to reach out and take what I want."

"If the boys will capture the game I'll be perfectly satisfied to lose,"

declared Harris, who did not tell the truth, however, for he was chagrined, although he showed not a sign of it.

"How can we lose? how can we lose?" chuckled Harry. "Things are coming our way, as the country editor said when he was rotten-egged by the mob."

It really seemed that Yale was out for the game at last, for they kept up their work at the bat, although Peck replaced Coulter in the box for Harvard.

Merriwell had his turn with the first batter up. One man was out, and there was a man on second. Coulter had warned Peck against giving Merriwell an outcurve. At the same time, knowing Frank had batted to right field before, the fielders played over toward right.

"So you are on to that, are you?" thought Frank. "Well, it comes full easier for me to crack 'em into left field if I am given an inshoot."

Two strikes were called on him before he found anything that suited him.

Harris was on the point of betting Rattleton odds that Merriwell did not get a hit, when Frank found what he was looking for and sent it sailing into left. It was not a rainbow, so it did not give the fielder time to get under it, although he made a sharp run for it.

Then it was that Merriwell seemed to fly around the bases, while the man ahead of him came in and scored. At first the hit had looked like a two-bagger, but there seemed to be a chance of making three out of it as Frank reached second, and the coachers sent him along. He reached third ahead of the ball, and then the Yale crowd on the bleachers did their duty.

"How do you Harvard chaps like Merriwell's style?" yelled a Yale enthusiast as the cheering subsided.

Then there was more cheering, and the freshmen of 'Umpty-eight were entirely happy.

The man who followed Frank promptly flied out to first, which quenched the enthusiasm of the Yale gang somewhat and gave Harvard's admirers an opportunity to make a noise.