Now Starbright had been doing very good work during the trip, but on this occasion he felt the absence of Merriwell as much as any one, not even Hodge being excepted.
Somehow it seemed to Dick that Merriwell had always given him strength and courage in whatever he undertook since entering college. A look from Frank’s eye was enough to brace him up and give him unbounded confidence.
He could not receive that look now, and even Hodge’s words of instruction spoken to him just before he entered the box were not enough to steady his nerves and put him on his mettle.
Elsie Bellwood, her face pale, was there amid the spectators. Inwardly she was almost frantic, but what could she do? Bart had tried to soothe her by telling her that Merriwell would not be harmed, but her fears could not be so easily allayed.
Starbright was in his position. The batter came up to strike. Hodge was under the bat, with his mask adjusted.
Then Dick sent in the first ball, and the batter lined it out with a tremendous crack.
The crowd rose as the man who had hit the ball sped down to first. Gamp, Yale’s center-fielder, was doing his best to get near the place where the ball must fall, but it went far over his head and he chased it into the distance, while the runner circled the bases and came home, with the crowd roaring.
Dick Starbright was white as chalk. With difficulty Bart choked back a groan.
“It’s all over!” he told himself. “Where is Merriwell? If he would come now?”
Roland Ditson shouted with laughter and waved his hat in the air.