Casper Silence succeeded in repressing his anxiety and disappointment as inning after inning passed and neither side secured a run.
The Rovers had fancied ere beginning the game that it would be an easy thing to down Merriwell's team. They had believed Frank's reputation as a pitcher to be exaggerated. They were confident of their batting ability, but gradually that confidence weakened before the wonderful boxwork of Merriwell, who seemed in his best form. Fortunately most of the decisions against the visitors were not close, and there were few excuses for kicks had McCann and the men been inclined to keep it up.
Ephraim Gallup could not throw off his feeling of anxiety and nervousness, and he was thankful as the innings passed and no opportunity came for him to display what he could do in the field. At bat he was a failure. In past days Gallup had batted well, but to-day Merriwell's wisdom in placing him far down on the batting order became apparent as the Vermonter continued to strike out. In the sixth inning Ephraim had a chance to drive in a run, for, with two men gone, the Merries pushed a runner round to third.
Again Ephraim struck out.
"You vos a peach uf a hitter—I don'd pelief!" sneered Dunnerwurst.
"Gol dinged if I could hit a haouse!" muttered Gallup. "I'm jest abaout the rottenest thing that ever swung a bat! I wish I was to hum on the farm!"
In the last of the seventh the Rovers had their opportunity. With one man out, they landed a runner on the third corner. The next hitter succeeded in lifting a short fly to center field.
Gallup made a wonderful run for the ball, but muffed it, although it struck fairly in his hands. As Ephraim dropped the ball the runner at third started for the plate.
Now Gallup had a reputation as a thrower. Many a time from deep center he had cut off a man at the plate. With remarkable quickness for one who seemed so awkward he caught up the ball and lined it to Hodge.
Had Ephraim taken more time it would have been better for him. His anxiety caused him to throw with too much haste, and, as a result, the ball passed fully ten feet over Bart's head.