Dick saw Swett and Keene laughing behind Cranch. There were other players behind those fellows, all eager to watch the work of young Merriwell. The boy was now spurred to do his best.
When the ball was returned to him Dick settled himself for business. Three times he pitched the jump to Henderson and three times Henderson fouled. Then a sharp twisting drop caused the batter to make a clean miss, and Merriwell secured the credit of a strike-out.
“Well! well! well!” shouted a fellow on the bleachers. “What’s the matter with Hen?”
Welch sat up and took notice.
“If he can strike Henderson out again,” thought Pumper, “I won’t feel so bad over my own batting.”
The great Yale hitter leaned over the rubber plate and thumped it with the end of his “slugger.”
“That was first-rate, Merriwell,” he nodded. “You certainly caught me napping.”
A moment later Henderson batted a slow grounder into the diamond. It was gathered cleanly and snapped to first.
“No hit,” came from Leyden. “That would have been an easy out at first.”
“Well, what do you think of that, Swett?” muttered Wilbur Keene. “Hen doesn’t seem to be hitting the freshman very hard.”