Rattleton and Hodge drifted from knot to knot of the students on the campus, finding all were talking baseball. The events of the last few hours had stirred up the “sports” wonderfully.
Rattleton was excited and nervous. He was waiting for the reappearance of Frank Merriwell.
On the other hand, Hodge seemed unusually cool and unconcerned. Bart smiled whenever he heard fears expressed as to the result of the struggle for the pennant, and he smiled more when some one declared Yale did not have a show.
It was generally known that the directors meant to appoint Merriwell captain of the nine, but there were not a few who declared Frank was too wise to accept the position at that late hour and under such unfavorable circumstances.
An hour passed. It was growing dark swiftly. Lamps were sending gleams of light from the windows of the quad. It was a mild spring night, and voices could be heard calling from the open windows. Over in South Middle a banjo was plunk-plunking. There were bursts of laughter now and then. Some fellow was whistling “Maggie Murphy’s Home.”
Still the “sports” lingered on the campus, waiting for Hardy and Merriwell to appear.
Rattleton was so nervous he could not hold himself still three seconds at a time. Hodge was not disturbed in the least.
“Here they come!”
Somebody uttered a cry. The former captain of the nine was seen approaching, with Frank Merriwell at his side. He was seen to grasp Frank by the arm and draw him toward the largest collection of students near the fence. Other students made a rush for that spot.
“Gentlemen,” said Phil Hardy, speaking clearly and distinctly, “I wish to introduce to you my successor, Mr. Merriwell, who is now captain and manager of the ’varsity nine.”