Frank nodded, took his time, and, amid a wild shriek of delight from the crowd, delivered the first pitched ball. Squint Fletcher pulled down his bat--and there was a crack like a pistol shot.
Squint had landed square on Frank Merriwell, junior’s, famous double shoot!
The connection, however, was so plainly an accident, and Squint himself looked so bewildered, that every one roared with laughter.
The ball went almost straight up in the air over first, until it seemed to lose itself in the sky. Fletcher came pounding down the base line, while Bully Carson, behind first, sent a roar at Clancy.
The red-haired first baseman was not rattled, however. He calmly stepped back, pulled down his cap, and waited. The ball came down like a bullet and stuck in his glove.
Roar after roar of applause went up. The Clippings, who had been nervous and unsettled, instantly regained their poise and confidence.
“Take your time, Chip!” snapped Spaulding, from second.
“That’s the ticket, old man!” cried McCarthy encouragingly.
Frank smiled. Burkett, who covered first for the Clippers, advanced to the plate, pulled down his cap, and waited.
“We’re all behind you, old-timer,” chirped Clancy.
“Let him hit it, Chip!” cried Billy. None the less, he signaled for an inshoot.
Burkett was plainly anxious to hit. Frank put over a fast inshoot. The ball fairly smoked with speed, and Burkett swung too late.
“Land on him!” yelled Bully Carson. “All he’s got is speed!”
Billy called for another of the same, but Merry shook his head. He guessed that Burkett wanted speed, and would be looking for it, so he put over a fadeaway that drew Burkett for another strike.
“This fellow’s a cinch!” cried Billy. Burkett looked determined.
Studying him for a moment, Frank nodded at the signal for a jump ball. He sent the sphere down to the plate waist-high. Burkett brought down his bat, but the ball seemed to jump over it, and plunked into Billy’s mitt.
Cheer after cheer rolled up, as Burkett sullenly retreated, and was replaced by Bangs. The Clipper third baseman was a wiry, alert fellow, and he chopped down his bat as if ready for anything that could come along. Merry determined to let him hit.
So, without pretending to pitch, he merely tossed over the ball and waited. Bangs gasped, then struck viciously. Another crack, and the ball went on a bee line to McCarthy. And Dan fumbled it.