The next one was also wild.
“Don’t let him fool you, Jim,” advised the mine owner. “Make him put it over.”
A moment later Merriwell got the inside corner of the plate, and Rooney failed to swing.
“Strike!” barked the umpire, with an upward motion of his right hand.
The red-headed catcher squared himself and dug his toes into the ground. He wouldn’t let another good one get by.
Merriwell took the signal for a drop. He started the ball high, but it dropped sharply and swiftly and Rooney decided to strike. Lunging at it, he hit it on the upper side of his bat and popped it high above the infield.
It was an easy fly and Reddy Maxwell got under it confidently. Perhaps he was too confident. At all events, he caught it and—dropped it.
Despite the fact that it seemed a sure out, Rooney was racing toward first as hard as he could go, and by the time Maxwell snatched up the ball and lined it to Gardiner, the miner had touched the bag.
Maxwell’s face was crimson as he trotted back to position.
“Hard luck, old fellow,” Dick said quietly.