“Well, that beats anything,” came from Hodge. “To think he’d bet on you, Frank!”
Merry laughed.
“Perhaps he did it to recoup, for he has lost enough in his time betting against me.”
“Then you know him?” questioned Mr. Carson.
“I should say so. I have had two very serious encounters with the fellow, who is just as much a rascal as Black Elrich. Last year he plotted against Yale and bet money on her defeat, but I baffled his plots. Again this year he tried the trick, carrying me out to sea on his steam-yacht, where he originally meant to leave me in an open boat, so that I would not be on hand at the New London boat-race. But once more I defeated him, and he lost a large amount of money.”
“Well, he’s betting on you this time, and he finally had Elrich at a stand, for he proposed several other wagers, which the man would not accept. He also asked me if Hodge was to catch in the game. I told him so, and, finding he could get no more bets, he politely called Elrich a mark. He declared that, with Hodge catching, there was no possible show for any team outside the big leagues to defeat you. Some reference was made to your ball called the double-shoot. Elrich sneered and laughed at it. Lake said you could throw the double-shoot, but that there was no other catcher, save Hodge, who could hold it well.”
“Compliment from a rascal!” said Bart. “No thanks for it.”
“I hate to help Justin Lake to make a winning,” said Frank; “but it can’t be helped now. There is no way out of it.”
“But I’ll agree to take something out of his hide in case I meet him,” Hodge declared. “I’ve been wanting to get my hands on him for some time.”
Lake, however, was not found around the hotel.