CHAPTER IX.
THE WINNING RUN.
In vain the Merries tried to send a man round the bags in the last of the fourth. The Stars played fast ball, and nobody got past second base.
Then came a surprise, for Frank Merriwell retired to short and his brother took his place to pitch. Frank had set Dick to warming up as soon as they came in to the bench, and the boy was ready.
“Oh, what a picnic!” cried Maloney, as he came up to the bat. “It’s all over now!”
Dick closed his lips firmly, took Bart’s signal, nodded, and prepared to deliver the ball.
Maloney slashed at the very first one, which came sailing up to the plate in a dead manner, and the bat did not come within a foot of the ball.
“Oh, look at his speed!” cried some of the spectators, in derision.
“Put ’em over! put ’em over!” snarled Maloney. “This is no monkey show!”
“Take the gentleman at bat off the grounds,” cried Ready. “He’ll think differently after he gets through hitting this time.”
Dick had nerve, for he pitched the next ball in exactly the same manner, and again Maloney failed to touch it.