"Now I have you sure," he chuckled.
"In your mind, Sport, old boy."
Merriwell seemed to be examining the pitcher's plate, then he looked up like a flash, his eyes seeming to sparkle, and with wonderful quickness delivered the ball.
"It's an outcurve," was the thought which flashed through Gibson's mind as he saw the sphere had been started almost directly at him.
If it was an outcurve it seemed certain to pass over the center of the plate, and it would not do to let it pass. It was speedy, and the batter was forced to make up his mind in a fraction of a second.
He struck at it—and missed!
"Three strikes—batter out!" called the umpire, sharply.
Gibson dropped his stick in a dazed way, muttering:
"Great Scott! it was a straight ball and close to my fingers!"
He might have shouted the words and not been heard, for the Yale rooters were getting in their work for fair. They gave one great roar of delight, and then came the college yell, followed by the freshman cheer. At last they were given an opportunity to use their lungs, after having been comparatively silent for several innings.