"He's hustling just as if somebody was after him," mused Frank. "What could he have forgotten that wouldn't keep until after the game? I guess that was only an excuse. I'm going to keep on the lookout. That fellow with the limp will be easy to remember. I wonder if his beard is false? But no, it looked too real for that. Well, maybe, after all, it isn't any of my affair, but I'm going to get at the bottom of it if I can."
Whack! That was the bat of Jim finding the ball, and a moment later Frank, in watching the flight of the horsehide, forgot all about the mystery that seemed to enshroud Billy Chase.
"That's the stuff!"
"Go it, old man!"
"A three-bagger!"
"Make it a home run!"
"Come on! Come on, old man!" This last was yelled by Frank, who was hopping up and down at home plate, thus trying to encourage Jim Bland to greater speed as he rounded the bases following his fine hit. The other cries of delight and encouragement came from the members of Frank's nine.
Jim reached third just as the center fielder, who had to run back some distance to get the ball, threw it in.
"Come on home! Come on home!" cried John North, who was playing coach at third.
"No, hold it!" ordered Frank, and it was well that Jim did, for the ball was accurately thrown and he would have been caught at home, if not nipped on the last bag, had he tried to leave it.