"Dere's der mug now! Dat's der feller wot hired me an' give me der card!

I'll swear ter dat!"

Seeing there was no way out of it, Roll came forward. He was rather pale, but he succeeded in putting on a front.

"h.e.l.lo, fellows!" he cried. "What are you doing in here?"

Merriwell had him by the collar in a twinkling.

"Looking for you," he said, "and we have found you! So you are the chap who hired this man to break my arm in order to fix me so I couldn't pitch any more! Well, I declare I didn't think anything quite as low as that even of you!"

Ditson protested his innocence. He even called Kirby a liar, and Frank was forced to keep the ruffian from hammering him. He swore it was some kind of a plot to injure him, and he called on the boys to know if they would take the word of a wretch like Kirby in preference to his.

"Oh, get out!" exclaimed Putnam in disgust. "Take my advice and leave Yale at once. If you do not, I'll publish the whole story, and you will find yourself run out. Go!"

Ditson sneaked away.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

"PLAY BALL!'"

Before night Merriwell received an appealing letter from Ditson, in which the young scapegrace protested his sorrow and entreated Frank to do what he could to keep the matter quiet, so he would not be forced to leave Yale.

Ditson declared it would break his mother's heart if he failed to complete his course at Yale. Over and over he entreated forgiveness, telling how sorry he was that he had ever tried to injure Merriwell in any way, and declaring that, if Frank would forgive and forget, he would never cause him any further trouble.

Frank pondered over the letter so long, and with sach a serious look on his face, that Harry asked him what he had struck. Then Merriwell read it to his roommate.

"Oh, what a snizerable meak--I mean miserable sneak, that fellow is!"

exclaimed Harry. "He goes into a dirty piece of business like this, and then he gets down and crawls--actually crawls!"

"I have no doubt but his mother is proud of him," said Frank. "He says he is an only son. It is his mother, not Ditson, I am thinking about. I do not wish to cause her so much pain."

"Oh, come off! If a fellow is such a snake as Ditson, he must get it from his parents on one side or the other. Perhaps his mother is not so good."

"I do not wish to think that of any fellow's mother. I much prefer to think that he takes all his bad qualities from the other side of the house. I remember my own mother--the dearest, gentlest, sweetest woman in all the world! How she loved me! How proud she was of me! All the better part of my nature I owe to her, G.o.d bless her!"

Frank spoke with deep feeling, and Rattleton was touched and silenced.

Merriwell arose and walked the floor, and there was an expression of the utmost tenderness and adoration on his face--a look that brought something like a mist to Harry's eyes. Frank seemed to have forgotten his companion, and he gently murmured:

"My angel mother!"

That was too much for Harry, and he coughed huskily, in an attempt to break the spell without being rude. Frank immediately turned, and said:

"I beg your pardon, old man. I forgot myself, for a moment."

"Oh, don't pard my begoner--that is, begon my pard--no, I mean peg my bardon! Hang it all! I'm all twisted! I don't know what I am trying to say!"

In confusion Harry got up and went to look out of the window.

"Jeewhittaker! I'm glad Merry don't get this way often!" he thought.

"Never knew him to do it before."

After some moments Frank declared:

"I am going to try to hush this Ditson matter up, Harry."

"You are?"

"Yes, for the sake of Ditson's mother. I want you to help me. We'll go see Putnam and Jones. If they have told anybody, we'll see the others. I am the one who has the greatest cause for complaint, and if I am willing to drop it, I am sure Putnam should be. Come on, old man. Let's not lose any time."

"Well, I suppose you are right," admitted Harry, as he reached for his cap. "But there's not another person on top of the earth who could induce me to keep still in such a case. It is a second offense, too."

So they went out together, and searched for Putnam and Jones.

At first Putnam was obstinate, and utterly refused to let Ditson off; but Frank took him aside, and talked earnestly to him for fifteen minutes, finally securing his promise to keep silent. It was not difficult to silence Jones, and so the matter was hushed up for the time. Nothing was said to Ditson, who was left in suspense as to what course would be pursued.

A day or two later came the very thing that had been antic.i.p.ated and discussed, since the freshman game at Cambridge. Merriwell was selected as one of the pitchers on the 'Varsity nine, and the freshmen lost him from their team.

Putnam came out frankly and confessed that he had feared something of the kind, all along, and Frank was in no mood to kick over his past treatment, so nothing was said on that point.

In the first game against a weaker team than Harvard, Merriwell was tried in the box and pitched a superb game, which Yale won in a walk.

Big Hugh Heffiner, the regular pitcher, whose arm was in a bad way, complimented Merriwell on his work, which he said was "simply great."

Of course Frank felt well, as for him there was no sport he admired so much as baseball; but he remained the same old Merriwell, and his freshmen comrades could not see the least change in his manner.

The second game of the series with Harvard came off within a week, but Frank got cold in his arm, and he was not in the best possible condition to go into the box. This he told Pierson, and as Heffiner had almost entirely recovered, Frank was left on the bench.

The 'Varsity team had another pitcher, who was known as Dad Hicks. He was a man about twenty-eight years old, and looked even older, hence the nickname of Dad.

This man was most erratic and could not be relied upon. Sometimes he would do brilliant work, and at other time children could have batted him all over the lot. He was used only in desperate emergencies, and could not be counted on in a pinch.

During the whole of the second game with Harvard Frank sat on the bench, ready to go into the box if called on. At first it looked as if he would have to go in, for the Harvard boys fell upon Heffiner and pounded him severely for two innings. Then Hugh braced up and pitched the game through to the end in brilliant style, Yale winning by a score of ten to seven.

Heffiner, however, was forced to bathe his arm in witch hazel frequently, and as he went toward the box for the last time he said to Frank with a rueful smile:

"You'll have to get into shape to pitch the last game of the series with these chaps. My arm is the same as gone now, and I'll finish it this inning. We must win this game anyway, regardless of arms, so here goes."

He could barely get the b.a.l.l.s over the plate, but he used his head in a wonderful manner, and the slow ball proved a complete puzzle for Harvard after they had been batting speed all through the game, so they got but one safe hit off Heffiner that inning and no scores.

There was a wild jubilee at Yale that night. A bonfire was built on the campus, and the students blew horns, sang songs, cheered for "good old Yale," and had a real lively time.

One or two of the envious ones asked about Merriwell--why he was not allowed to pitch. Even Hartwick, a soph.o.m.ore who had disliked Frank from the first, more than hinted that the freshman pitcher was being made sport of, and that he would not be allowed to go into the box when Yale was playing a team of any consequence.

Jack Diamond overheard the remark, and he promptly offered to bet Hartwick any sum that Merriwell would pitch the next game against Harvard.