w we have had enough of him this game," said the other,
sourly. "If we had played a rotten fielding game Harvard would have a
hundred now."

"Well, nearly that," grinned the first speaker. "Gordon hasn't struck
out a man."

"And still he is sore because Putnam is going to put Merriwell in! I
suppose that is natural, but--Hi, there! look a' that! Great Scott! what
sloppy work! Did you see Newton get caught playing off second? Well,
that gives me cramps! Come on; he's the last man, and we'll have to go
out."

So, to the delight of the Harvard crowd, Yale was whitewashed again, and
there seemed no show for the New Haven boys to win.

Walter Gordon remained on the bench, and Frank walked down into the box.
Then came positive proof of Merriwell's popularity, for the New Haven
spectators arose as one man, wildly waving hats and flags, and gave
three cheers and a tiger for Frank.

"That's what kills him!" exclaimed Pierson in disgust. "It is sure to
rattle any green man."

"That's right," yawned Collingwood. "It's plain we have wasted our time
in coming here to-day."

"It looks that way from the road. Why couldn't the blamed chumps keep
still, so he could show what he is made of?"

"It's ten to one he won't be able to find the plate for five minutes. I
believe I can see him shaking from here."

The Harvard crowd had never heard of Merriwell, and they regarded him
with no little interest as he walked into the box. When the Yale
spectators were through cheering Harvard took it up in a derisive way,
and it certainly was enough to rattle any fellow with ordinary nerves.

But Frank did not seem to hear all the howling. He paid no attention to
the cheers of his friends or the jeers of the other party. He seemed in
no great hurry. He made sure that every man was in position, felt of the
pitcher's plate with his foot, kicked aside a small pebble, and then
took any amount of time in preparing to deliver.

Collingwood began to show some interest. He punched Pierson in the ribs
with his elbow and observed:

"Hanged if he acts as if he is badly rattled!"

"That's so. He doesn't seem to be in a hurry," admitted Paul. "He is
using his head at the very start, for he is giving himself time to
become cool and steady."

"He has Gibson, the best batter on the Harvard team, facing him. Gibson
is bound to get a safe hit."

"He is pretty sure to, and that is right."

Merriwell knew that Nort Gibson was the heaviest and surest b