“Better forget it,” said Duncan. “That blamed old confession got us into a nasty scrape. I’m worried.”
“But I thought you said Shea would get out of town all right.”
“I’m in hopes he will, but you never can tell what will happen.”
“Think he’d squeal if he was nabbed?”
“Of course he would. That would be the easiest way for him to get a light sentence. He’d say he was paid to do the job by a couple of Yale men. He’d ring us in as sure as fate.”
“How about the other man?”
“Cully? Oh, he’s sneaked already. He’s gone. He didn’t wait until morning.”
Having obtained the lead, Manhattan seemed determined to hold the home team down. Hogan pitched as if everything he held dear depended on the result. Nevertheless, Yale was warmed up, and the visiting twirler had his troubles. But the Blue could not push a runner past third. Fast fielding behind Hogan terminated the sixth inning, with the score three to two, in favor of Manhattan College.
“Now get after that pitcher and pound him to death!” fiercely urged Marone, as the visitors trotted in to the bench. “This ought to be our inning. We ought to pile up some more runs right here.”
Merriwell had talked encouragingly to Kates, and, to the surprise of every one, Sam opened the seventh by striking out a man. Even though the next fellow hit safely, Kates did not seem disturbed, and he forced the following chap to put up an easy infield fly.