"Which I'll do," said Merriwell. "I'll refund every cent that's been taken at the gate. Did you read the Wellsburg Herald this morning? If so, Mr. Bearover, I presume you saw a little item regarding a ten-thousand-dollar bet. Now, if such a bet has been made, and you lose this game through forfeit, you'll likewise lose the bet. It may not cost you anything, but it will cost Mr. Silence ten thousand dollars. I don't think you'll take your team off the field to-day."
Bearover was purple with anger.
"Look at that bunch of boys back of first," he directed. "If you are not careful, Mr. Merriwell, they'll waltz onto the field and wipe up the earth with you and your team and the umpire."
"I don't think they will," said Frank. "At the present time they're being watched by six deputies, every man of which carries a billy and a pair of handcuffs. In case your tough crowd from Wellsburg attempts to make a disturbance, the ringleaders will find themselves in Bloomfield lockup. We've made preparations for you and your paid thugs, Mr. Bearover."
While this conversation was taking place Bender had pretended to busy himself in tying a shoestring, which he untied and retied several times before it seemed satisfactory to him.
"If you can win this game squarely, Bearover, you'll win it," said Frank; "but you'll never win it through intimidation and bulldozing. Now don't bother me any more. Better keep on your own side and let your men play the game. They'll have to play the best game they know if they want to win."
All this was quite unexpected by the "big bear" and his companions. Feeling that he was up against an unusual proposition, Bearover returned to the visitors' bench, where Silence was somewhat nervously smoking a cigarette.
Bart Hodge was in position to strike. Bender whipped the ball over. Hodge let it pass.
"One strike!" announced Carker.
Bender's curve had carried the ball over the outside corner.