"I ain't lost 'em yet."
"You will if Frank Merriwell pitches the whole game."
Practice was over, the umpire took his place and called
"play," the Camden team was in the field. Merriwell walked down into the box. He wore his Yale uniform, as he had been unable to obtain a Camden uniform that would fit him.
The Rockland crowd looked at Merriwell with curiosity, but all the applause he received came from the Camden rooters. At one side of the diamond were gathered twenty small boys. Usually these youngsters were full of taunts and jeers for Camden, but now they were strangely silent. One of them turned to the others and said:
"Fellers, Rockland eats dirt ter-day! We kin lick anything else on ther face of ther earth, but we can't do up that battery. I've read all about Frank Merriwell, an' there ain't nothin' walks on two legs what kin pitch ball with him!"
Strange to relate, he was not disputed in the assertion.
The umpire broke open a box and tossed a beautiful new "Spaulding" to Merry, who caught it and rubbed a handful of dirt over it.
Smithers advanced to the plate. Frank had heard that it was impossible to discover the little man's weak point, and he resolved to start right in by fooling him—if possible.
Hodge knew what was coming when Merry assumed a certain attitude. Then, without any flourish, Frank shot in what seemed at the start to be a straight, swift ball.