Benaway, picked for one of the reserves, was a clerk in the general store and post office. The proprietor of the store had sent him to a placer mine to collect a bill, and it was expected that he would return some time during the evening. A message was likewise left for him.
Shaw was down with tonsillitis, and he set up a terrible wail of disappointment when he learned what was going on, and realized his inability to help out.
Barzy Blunt, Mose Handy, and Lin Reckless were all the fellows Ballard and Clancy could get together. Spink and Benaway would be on hand the following day, however, without fail.
The six lads, brimming over with enthusiasm because of the game scheduled with Gold Hill, reached the Ophir clubhouse at about four-thirty. Neither Merry, nor any of those he had gone to see, had arrived.
“Chip will be along before many minutes,” said Clancy. “Let’s get a couple of balls and begin limbering up on the diamond.”
They were hard at it when the Bradlaugh car halted at the clubhouse and unloaded Mr. Bradlaugh, his son, Hannibal—who had been picked up on the way through town—Jode Lenning, and Merriwell.
The party came onto the athletic field by a passage between the end of the clubhouse and the gymnasium. Merriwell was first to come into view of those on the diamond.
“Hoop-a-la!” shouted Barzy Blunt, waving his cap. “Here’s Chip with the rest of the bunch. You can bet a ripe persimmon he wouldn’t——”
The rest of the cowboy athlete’s remark did not appear. Words suddenly froze on his lips. Just behind Merriwell was Lenning, and for Lenning, Blunt had no use whatever.
“Suffering cats!” muttered Blunt, as soon as he could recover the power of speech. “Say, Ballard, why is that no-account juniper trailing Chip?”