“Let’s get out, fellows,” said Frank, recovering himself.
At a signal Merry’s team trotted onto the field for practise. Dick Merriwell went out at short, which made it apparent that Frank intended to pitch.
The practise of the team was sharp and snappy from the very first, and it brought frequent bursts of applause from the witnesses.
Old Joe Crowfoot was on the bench, still pulling at his pipe, after his usual calm manner.
Dick quickly entered into the work, and his cleverness in handling everything that came his way showed that he was pretty fast, in spite of his years.
After nearly fifteen minutes of practise Frank called his team in. Barely had the men walked in to the bench, when out from the dressing-room came the other team. They were dressed in yellow uniforms, and they trotted straight out onto the field.
Then from the Yale crowd came another cheer. Frank Merriwell was, indeed, surprised.
“What’s this?” he gasped. “What have they sprung on us? Will you look at that crowd?”
“I will,” nodded Jack Ready. “But I’m nearly knocked stiff with the blow. There’s Gene Skelding on third!”
“And Starbright on first!” from Hodge.