But when it was known that the one murderously assaulted was Frank Merriwell, the famous star twirler of the Yale baseball team, the tongue of gossip wagged freely.
A crowd gathered in front of the building in which the club rooms were located. The greater part of the crowd were boys and young men, and their conversation showed that every one had heard of Merriwell and all were eager to see him.
One of the club members came in after passing through the crowd, and he was laughing.
“I was not aware you were so well known in Belfast, Mr. Merriwell,” he said. “Those youngsters out there are wild to get a peep at you. I just heard one of them say you were a bigger man than the President of the United States.”
Frank blushed.
“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “If this thing keeps up, I’ll have to travel through Maine in disguise. Had to get out of Camden because I was too well known.”
“They are talking about your famous double shoot. I wonder how that story started.”
“What story?”
“Why, the story about that double curve. Of course, there may be an out drop, or something like that—in fact, we know there is such a thing. But a double curve that consists of an in and an out is an utter impossibility.”
“Why an impossibility?” smiled Frank.