The next one was high, and the umpire called another ball.
“Merry doesn’t dare to let him hit it,” shouted somebody.
Frank smiled, motioning for Hodge to come under the bat.
Bart walked down and put on a mask. He had not smiled during all the excitement. His face was unmoved, and he made a strong contrast to Frank Merriwell, who looked as pleasant as if he were witnessing a free show.
Taking his place close under the bat, Bart signaled for an out drop.
Merry shook his head, immediately assuming a position which Hodge understood to mean that he would deliver a high inshoot.
In order to make the others believe he was doing all the signaling, Bart made a fake signal, which did not mean anything at all.
With his greatest speed Frank sent a ball whistling through the air. To Faunce it looked like a high straight one, and he could “feast on that kind.”
He struck with all his strength, but the only resistance met by his bat was that of the air, and it was such a surprise that Faunce was thrown off his feet.
Plunk!—the ball was held in Bart Hodge’s glove.