The report spread like wildfire. In less than an hour, it seemed, every man, woman, and child over six years of age in Cartersville knew of the amazing wager that had been made. The report was wired to surrounding towns and carried into the country in various ways.
By midday people from out of town began to appear in Cartersville. At first they straggled in, but as the time passed they came faster and thicker. They came from the country in conveyances of all sorts, while the 12.48 P.M. train brought at least a hundred. The streets took on a surprising appearance of life. Men gathered in groups and discussed the wonderful bet that had been made. Some were skeptical and pronounced it an advertising dodge on the part of Cameron. Others there were who knew the stakeholder, or knew those who did know him, and they protested that the wager was on the level.
At any rate, never had so much excitement over a game of baseball been aroused in such a brief time in the whole State of Iowa.
A later train brought a still larger number of visitors, and the influx from the country continued up to the hour for the game to begin.
No sooner were the gates opened at the ball ground than the great crowd waiting outside made a push to get in and secure seats. It required the united efforts of a number of local officers, who had been summoned by Cameron for that purpose, to hold the eager people back.
In the meantime Merriwell and his friends had learned of the wager. At first all were inclined to laugh over it, thinking, like many others, that it was an advertising scheme. After a while, however, they began to have reasons to believe there was something of truth in the report.
“By Jove!” cried Morgan. “We’ll be playing for a fortune this afternoon, boys!”
“If such a bet has actually been made,” said Rattleton, “we won’t have any show to win.”
“Wh-wh-why not?” demanded Gamp.
“Don’t you fancy for a moment that Carey Cameron is the sort to lose that amount of money. He’ll fix it somehow so he can win.”