“I ask your pardon in advance for speaking plainly,” he said, “but I must tell you that I think you very foolish to take such a risk. You know all the chances are against us. If we win we must do so by strategy. I cannot understand why you should make such a venture.”
“I hate Carey Cameron!” she hissed. “I wish to ruin him—to strip him of his last dollar! He married my sister and treated her in the most brutal and inhuman manner until he forced her to give him all of her fortune, which he squandered in dissipation and gambling. After that he used her in the most inhuman manner, making her a prisoner in her own house. Her baby he starved and abused until the poor thing died. In the end my sister’s mind gave way, and he placed her in a madhouse.
“Why shouldn’t I hate him? Now you understand my reasons! I have sworn to ruin him, and for that purpose I am living here in Cartersville. He does not know me. He never saw my face, but I bear a strong resemblance to my sister as she looked when he married her, and I fear he might detect the resemblance should he behold me unveiled. For that reason I keep my face hidden constantly.
“You know my secret, Frank Merriwell. You are the first to whom I have revealed it since coming here. I hope to strike a blow at him to-day. If I fail—if you lose the game—my money will be gone, and I shall have no means of keeping up the struggle. What will there be for me then? I might as well be dead!”
At last Frank understood her secret, but that did not relieve him of his vexation on account of her folly, as he considered it. He saw that she was extremely impulsive. She had accepted this crude method of seeking revenge on Cameron, without sufficiently considering the danger that the result might be disastrous to herself; but now, as the struggle was about to begin, a full realization of the peril made her tremble and quake.
There was no rectifying her folly. The only way to save her was to win the game.
“Play ball! play ball!” howled the rough element of the crowed. “Put her off the field!”
“Merriwell has a mash!” shouted a man.
“Do your goo-gooing after the game,” advised another.
“Miss Blake,” said Frank earnestly, “you may rely on me to do my best; but I warn you in advance that the chances are strongly in favor of Cameron.”