ged McCann as the runner
was sliding.

It was a close play, but Buck caught McCann as the latter's hand was
fully six inches from the bag.

"Out at second!" declared Carker.

There was a hush as the runner scrambled to his feet.

"What?" roared McCann, rushing at Carker and seizing him in a fury. "Did
you call me out, you chump? What do you mean?"

He swung Greg round roughly.

Frank promptly reached for the back of McCann's neck. His fingers closed
there, and he sent the fellow reeling to one side.

"Hold on, Carker," he said, as Greg started to speak. He realized it was
the umpire's intention to put McCann out of the game.

There were indications that the crowd of toughs contemplated rushing
onto the field.

Bill Hunker sprang in front of those men and roared:

"I'll put the irons on the first son of a gun who ducks under that
rope!"

That stopped them.

McCann was livid with fury. It seemed that he meant to spring at
Merriwell, who stood calmly facing him.

"Hold on, you!" said Frank, shaking a finger at the captain of the
Rovers. "I want to say just one word, and then you may come at me if you
feel like it. I kept the umpire from putting you out of the game. You
were out at second, and you know it. If you lift your hand against
Carker during the remainder of this game or make any insulting talk to
him, I'll back him up if he orders you off the field. Perhaps your team
can get along without you. Perhaps it will be better off without you.
Take the matter into consideration."

On the temporary bleachers a crowd of Farnham Hall lads, led by Dale
Sparkfair, gave a cheer for Merry.

As this cheer died away Uncle Eb Small rose in the stand, waved his
crooked cane, and shrilly cried:

"That's right, Frank--that's jest right! We're here to see a game of
baseball and not a fight! All the same, if them fellers start a row,
we'll back you up to the finish! We know you're a gentleman on the
baseball field and off it. You've gut the sympathy of every decent man
here."

"That's right! that's right!" came from all sides of the field.

Basil Bearover stepped out from the bench and called McCann's attention.

"Play ball, Mike," he said. "We can win, anyhow. Let the umpire alone."

Muttering to himself, the captain of the Rovers walked in from the
field.

Things simmered down at once. At last the visiting players and the
sympathizing crowd of thugs realized that the sentiment of the crowd
would not tolerat