“I don’t know whether it’s a fake or not,” said Toleman, “but I agree with Jim in thinking Merriwell has a case of cold feet, and is getting out of pitching this game by pretending his shoulder is lame. It’s an outrage to shove Kates in there to-day. Manhattan has Hogan, their very best pitcher, against us. He’s on the slab now. Watch him. Note what he does to our boys.”
“Our boys! He! he! he!” scoffed Dagett. “Do you mean Mike Lynch? I suppose you’re dead stuck on Mike now that he’s become a Merriwellite? Yah! He makes me sick! What do you think of a fellow like him posing as the soul of generosity and paying other fellows’ debts? I don’t blame Ditson for taking advantage of his attempt to fool people, but I guess we all know the kind of a fellow Lynch is.”
“By the way, Wolfe,” questioned Toleman, “where is Ditson? Is he here?”
“I don’t know,” answered Bern. “I haven’t seen him to-day.”
But Wolfe lied. He had seen Duncan, and he believed he knew what the fellow was doing that very hour. Both Ditson and Wolfe felt that they were hovering over a volcano that might burst forth any moment. They were frightened, and had agreed that they must take certain precautions to protect themselves.
Hogan now opened up on Tommy Tucker, who was the first batter for Yale. The visiting pitcher had a great assortment of shoots and benders which seemed too much for Tommy to fathom. As a result, Tucker slashed the air twice, fouled a couple of times, and then lifted a little pop-fly which Halloran gathered in.
Mike Lynch looked grim enough as he strode forth to the plate. He had been placed second on the batting order because of his ability as a hitter. Realizing, however, that he was not a popular man in his own class, Mike now seemed distressingly self-conscious, and, as a result, he fell an easy victim to the wiles of Hogan, who struck him out.
Brad Buckhart did little better than the two who had preceded him. He hit the ball, and, for a moment, it seemed that he had popped out a “Texas Leaguer.” But the infielders of the visiting team could cover lots of territory, and cover it in a hurry. Both Marone and O’Mora went after Brad’s ball.
“I’ll take it!” yelled O’Mora. And he caught it beautifully while running at full speed, with his face toward the outfield.
While the little crowd of visiting rooters were cheering this play, Wolfe espied Duncan Ditson, who was looking over the crowd in search of Bern. Immediately Wolfe waved his cap at Duncan, who clambered up over the seats and found room at the side of his fellow conspirator.