Seeing Davis had not started from third, Frank did not bring his hands together, but let the ball pass between them over his head. The ball struck the ground about ten feet from second and bounded straight into Harry’s waiting hands.
The runner slid, but Harry touched him out, and then sent the ball whistling home, for, having seen the ball go over Merry, Davis had started to score.
Davis had been fooled into clinging close to the base too long. The trick had worked well, for Hodge had thrown the ball so that Merry could catch it in case Davis started, but with sufficient force to take it to second on a long bound, if Merry saw fit to let it go. Had Davis started, Frank would have caught the ball and cut him off.
Now, although Davis ran as if his life depended on the issue, he could not get home in time, and Bart was waiting for him with the ball.
“Out second and home!” cried the umpire.
The spectators gasped, for they had been treated to a clever piece of work that showed them the Merries knew a thing or two about baseball.
Three hits had been made by the first three men at bat, yet the side had been retired without a run, through the clever work of Hodge, Merriwell, and Rattleton.
The Reds were disgusted over the result, but Black Elrich said:
“They can’t keep that up, and Merriwell is fruit for the Reds. Every man can hit him. Two more hits mean a cool thousand for me, and there are eight innings to make them in.”
“They’re going to get twenty off him,” said Dan Mahoney. “My brother Pete is the worst hitter in the bunch, but he can lace that fellow all over the lot.”