The train whistled in the distance.
“There she comes!” exclaimed Cunningham.
“Yes, there she comes!” palpitated Ditson. “Get back to the platform and be ready for your work. Don’t make a fizzle of it.”
“There ain’t the least danger of that, suh,” confidently declared Cunningham, as he strode away.
CHAPTER X.
THE GREETING AT THE STATION.
Of course, the expected arrival of the Yale baseball-team brought out a crowd to see the team come in. The fact that Frank Merriwell, the model young American, and the pride of the youth of the whole country, was captain of the Yale nine, had something to do with the gathering of a throng of young men at the station-platform. The students from the college had come down to greet the Yale men, and there was more or less excitement as the train drew up at the station.
Nor were the colors of Virginia the only ones to be seen in the gathering at the station. One freckle-faced, but athletic-appearing, youngster, whose clothes were somewhat shabby, had somehow procured a knot of dark-blue ribbon, which he wore conspicuously.
“Say, Jimmy,” called another boy, as a crowd of youngsters gathered round the wearer of the blue, “what do you think you’re doing, anyhow? What’s them colors ye’re wearin’?”
“Them’s Yale colors,” was the proud and defiant reply. “What have you got to say about it, Scrubby Watson?”
“We want to know what you’re wearin’ them for! Ain’t you for the home team?”