Could Merriwell make a safe hit? That was the question.
“It wouldn’t surprise me to see him lift it over the fence,” muttered Bart Hodge.
Wolfers delivered the ball.
Frank struck!
And missed!
Plunk!—the ball landed in Sprowl’s mitt.
“You’re out!” yelled the umpire.
Frank had struck out!
His comrades on the bench seemed completely dazed.
Freckles gave Spud a jab in the stomach, whooping with delight: