swing at it.

"Three balls," said the calm, clear voice of the umpire.

"A valk vill take you, Frankie!" cried Dunnerwurst, from the coaching
line. "He vill made you a present to der virst pase. Yah!"

Bender pretended to kick a pebble from beneath his feet. Suddenly,
without any preliminary swing, he sent over a swift straight ball.

Smash!

Merriwell nailed the ball on the trade-mark.

CHAPTER XL.

A DETERMINED FRONT.

Frank drove the ball out on a line and reached second base by sharp
running.

"Vale! vale! vale!" spluttered Dunnerwurst, as he danced round like a
huge fat toad. "Dot peen too pad! It vos an awful surprise dot der ball
dit not make a home run vor him!"

"Naow we're started, gol ding it!" shouted Gallup excitedly, as he
pranced out to coach. "Let's keep her a-goin', fellers!"

Ephraim was in a wildly excited condition. He felt himself tingling and
shaking all over. At one moment he was hot and burning, and the next
moment he was cold and shivering.

Buck Badger looked dangerous to Bender. The solid, stocky,
square-shouldered Westerner seemed like a man who would hit the ball a
terrible crack if he hit it at all.

In the stand, sitting amid the ladies of Merriwell's house party, was
Winnie Badger, whose eyes gleamed with pride as she watched her husband.

"I hope Buck will get a hit," she murmured. "He used to hit well."

"Oo, eet ees the strange game!" exclaimed Teresa Gallup. "What ees eet
Ephraim ees doing now? Does he have to hollaire so loud?"

"He's a coach," explained Elsie.

"A coach?" questioned Teresa. "Why, the coach ees sometheeng for a horse
to pull. Ees Ephraim sometheeng for a horse to pull?"

"He isn't just that sort of a coach," laughed Inza. "He's out there to
give Frank instructions about running bases."

"Oo!" murmured Teresa. "Does he know more about the way bases to run
than Frank knows?"

"Perhaps not," smiled Inza. "But you see the runner can't keep watch of
the ball and the players while he's running. He can't tell just what
every one is doing if he has to pay attention to himself. A coach can
tell him what to do."

Juanita Garcia had not spoken since the beginning of the game, but now
she ventured to ask:

"What ees eet Senyor Carkaire he play? He keep saying: 'One ball! One
strike! Two ball! Two strike!' but he do nothing else."

"He's the umpire. He is the judge who gives the decisions."

"Oo!" breathed Juanita. "He ees the judge! He ee