“Take another!” was the cry that sent him flying over first and down to second.
He saw the left-fielder get the ball and throw, and he heard Merry’s clear cry:
“Slide!”
Forward shot the boy, and the manner in which he slid along the ground to the base was beautiful to see. The baseman was a bit too late to touch him out, and the umpire declared it safe.
“That’s Frank Merriwell’s brother!” cried a clear voice in the grand stand. “What do you think of him?”
“He’s all right!” shouted hundreds.
“They’re both off the same web!” roared a man on the bleachers. “For his years the youngster is the hottest stuff.”
“Merriwell,” said Jack Ready, “I see where your glory is about to be eclipsed. Listen to the words of a prophet: That confounded kid is going to become even more famous than his brother.”
“Good!” laughed Frank. “I am rather proud of him now. If he keeps on, he’ll make a record for himself in baseball some day.”