“Just hear that blower!” growled one of the disgusted subjects of King Jimmy. “If Frank Merriwell was here, I’d shut him up! But I reckon it ain’t any use as long as he ain’t here.”
Then they resigned themselves to fate.
In the sixth Morgan had again seemed on the point of going to pieces, and Hodge feared the third time this should happen; therefore he resolved to put in Starbright.
So Dick was again set to “warming up,” and Morgan knew he was to be taken out. If he felt angry over this, he held his temper. He had learned that pitchers might be changed any time during the game on a trip like this, and no pitcher was liable to win the satisfaction of claiming truthfully that he had carried off a game without assistance.
In the first of the seventh the Yale men were at the bat, but Paragon toyed with them as before, not permitting a man to reach second.
Deep was the gloom of the men from the North when they moved out onto the field beneath that smiling blue Virginian sky.
The crowd was delighted, as it had a right to be, for it was an honor to defeat Yale.
Oh, where was Merriwell!
Morgan sat on the bench and saw Starbright go into the box.
“Ha! ha!” laughed Ditson. “Our boys will make short work of that big duffer! Why, he can’t pitch!”