“I was counting on seeing the mighty Merriwell knocked out of the box to-day,” said Preston. “This is a great disappointment to me.”
“It’s ten to one Arlington won’t last three innings,” nodded Walker. “Perhaps Merriwell will go in after that, and we will have the pleasure of seeing both of them get their bumps.”
Chester had been taking good care of himself for several days and was feeling in fine fettle. He was full of confidence, as usual, and believed he would be able to astonish every one by his work that day.
“Well! well! well!” roared one of the Great Northern players from the bench, as their first batter stepped out. “See him pound the leather! Watch him drive it a mile!”
Up popped Ted Smart, who cried:
“Please don’t drive it a mile, sir! Please don’t drive it more than half a mile! I know you will hit it very, very hard, but I hope you won’t spoil the ball!”
Arlington was ready to pitch, and now the players behind him opened up.
“Put it right over, old boy,” said Earl Gardner.
“Trim his whiskers!” chattered Chip Jolliby.
“Let ’im see ’ow ’ard ’e can ’it hit,” advised Billy Bradley, the English boy.