“I s’pose that if Merriwell pitched, it’d be a cinch for Fardale, Bob?”
“It’ll be a cinch, anyhow,” exclaimed Randall. “If I got in the box I’d draw rings around those fellows.”
“Well, I’m talkin’ about Merriwell. He’d do considerable more, wouldn’t he?”
Randall hesitated.
“Yes,” he replied unwillingly. “I’m bound to say that his very name seems to scare Franklin out of its boots. Why?”
Colonel Carson tugged at his goatee slowly.
“Well, I figure on gettin’ you in the box, Bob,” he said reflectively. “I want to do a little bettin’ on that game. If it wasn’t for Merriwell, I think that Franklin pitcher might have a chance to win.”
“He couldn’t do it,” exclaimed Randall quickly. “If I got a chance at him I’d show him up!”
The older man’s eyes narrowed suddenly.
“I don’t s’pose you’d throw the game?” he snapped out.