Quoth Merriwell:
"'The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, strategems and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.'"
"Huah!" said Bruce. "Talk about a 'concord of sweet sounds,' what could be sweeter than the howls of those
baseball rooters when you worked your double shoot on the Rockland batters and kept them fanning the breeze? That was what I call music!"
"Fellows," sighed Frank, "this has been a lively day."
"It certainly has," nodded Hodge.
"Things move in a hurry down here at this season of the year," put in Diamond.
"It's rather too lively for me," confessed Merriwell. "I am stuck on Camden, but I must get out of it right away."
"Why?" asked the others, in a breath.
"The people here will not give me any rest. If I remain, it will be impossible for me to refuse to play ball with the Camden team, and I did not come down here for that. Why, I could have a hundred dollars a week if I would play with Camden. Money doesn't seem to be of value to the people here, now that they think I can beat Rockland every time I go into the box. They are ready to give up anything to beat Rockland. I haven't any grudge against Rockland. In fact, if what I hear about Wat Snell's attempt to drug me is true, I have every reason to be grateful toward Manager French, for he caused Snell's arrest, and it is likely that Wat is languishing in the Rockland lockup to-night."