Moving about, old Joe Crowfoot picked up bets here and there. With one man he bet one hundred even that the collegians would get half as many runs as the Outlaws; with another he wagered that Merriwell’s pick-ups would make as many hits as their opponents; in fact, they found him ready, as long as his money lasted, to lay almost any sort of a bet on the youthful antagonists of the professionals.
It created universal surprise when young Joe Crowfoot got a clean single off Pope. Following this, however, Buckhart popped to the infield, and the collegians left the bench.
“Start right in on the kid, Clinker,” urged Stover savagely. “Let’s give him a drop to start with. Let’s take the conceit out of him. Wait till I face him!”
Clinker tried to start things going, but he hit a ball on the upper side of his bat and popped it high into the air for Duncan Ross, who was covering first base.
“Rotten!” complained Warwhoop, seating himself disgustedly on the bench.
Kennedy banged a hot one against the shins of Tucker at short, and Tommy fumbled long enough for Grouch to canter easily over first.
“We’re off! We’re going!” roared Buzzsaw.
Tucker was saying a few uncomplimentary things to himself, but Dick Merriwell did not seem greatly disturbed.
Long Tom Hix bumped a Texas leaguer over the infield, and Kennedy, on the jump, crossed second, keeping on toward third.
Joe Crowfoot, coming in fast from center field, took the ball in the bound and whipped it like a whistling bullet to Jimmy Lozier at third.