Of course, the papers had scouted the idea that Bart’s hand had been injured to keep him from catching, even though Hodge himself hotly declared that as his firm belief. Merriwell, also, believed such to be the case, as did the other members of the team.
At first it had seemed that the nine was disastrously crippled, but Hodge had said:
“It’s my left hand. In her haste, the old hag did not stop to see if it was my throwing-hand. Had she put the stuff on my right hand it would have knocked me out. Now, I am going to catch.”
“But you can’t do it!” exclaimed Rattleton.
“I will!” grated Hodge. “I’ll catch, if it takes my life!”
Frank shook his head.
“I’m afraid you can’t,” he confessed. “The doctor says not.”
“Doctors do not know everything.”
“But I’d rather lose the game, and Mr. Carson says he’d rather lose his money than have you permanently injure your hand.”
“I’ll not injure it permanently. The catcher’s mitt will protect it, and I’ll be behind the bat.”