Berlin picked it up clean on the bound and threw to second, stopping Gallup from going down, but both Mason and Mulloy came home, giving the Mysteries two runs.
“Don’t mind that, Dick,” said Frank, seeing that there was a strained look on the face of his brother. “Two scores can’t win this game. We’ll hold ’em now.”
The man with the big dog laughed his satisfaction.
“Take the boy out!” cried several voices. “Take him out! Take him out! Give us a pitcher! What did we pay our money for?”
Such cries might have dispirited a less determined lad, but not so Dick Merriwell. There was something in the sound that caused the lad’s teeth to clench like a vise, while his eyes glittered with an inward fire and he stiffened up. Not a word did he say, but into his heart leaped a sudden mad resolve to show them what he could do. Opposition and ridicule did not unman him; instead, it put him on his mettle.
Dismal Jones walked out with his club, sadly saying:
“It’s too bad! I hate to do it.”
Dick began with the jump ball, and Hodge took care to get up for it. Jones struck at least a foot under the first one.
Bart called for a drop, but Dick shook his head and gave the batter another exactly like the first.