“Safe!” came once more from the umpire.
Now the roar of applause took on a new note, shrill and joyous, telling that hundreds of girls were shrieking with delight.
“Why, he’ll steal home in a minute!” cried Ready, as the uproar subsided. “Couldn’t stop him from scoring with a shotgun! It’s a pleasant little way he has of winning games. La! la! Isn’t he a peach, girls?”
“He’s all right!” cried scores of voices. “Hurrah for Frank Merriwell!”
Rattleton looked toward Merry, who gave him the sign to sacrifice. Then Harry picked out an opening between second base and first, and resolved to put the ball through it if possible.
It was not an easy thing, however, to place a hit with Nesbitt in the box, and Rattleton simply succeeded in popping up a little fly that was gathered in by Waldron.
Frank leaped off third, as if contemplating an attempt to score after the ball was caught, but Waldron was too good to be lured into a bad throw, and Merry was forced to retreat.
Now it was Dick’s turn to hit.
“Oh, what fruit!” cried Joiler. “He couldn’t hit it out of the diamond, anyhow. Put the ball right over, Nes.”