atter on
the Harvard team, but he had been watching the fellow all through the
game, trying to "get his alley." He had seen Gibson light on a drop and
smash it fiercely, and then he had seen him get a safe hit off a rise,
while an outcurve did not fool him at all, as he would bang it if it
came over the plate or let it alone when it went outside.

Frank's mind was made up, and he had resolved to give Gibson everything
in close to his fingers. Then, if he did hit it, he was not liable to
knock it very far.

The first ball Merriwell delivered looked like a pretty one, and Gibson
went after it. It was an inshoot, and the batter afterward declared it
grazed his knuckles as it passed.

"One strike!" called the umpire.

"What's this! what's this!" exclaimed Collingwood, sitting up and
rubbing his eyes. "What did he do, anyway?"

"Fooled the batter with a high inshoot," replied Pierson.

"Well, he doesn't seem to be so very rattled after all."

"Can't tell yet. He did all right that time, but Gibson has two more
chances. If he gets a drop or an outcurve that is within reach, he will
kill it."

Ben Halliday was catching for Yale. Rattleton, the change catcher and
first baseman, was laid off with a bad finger. He was rooting with the
New Haven gang.

Halliday returned the ball and signaled for a rise, but Merriwell shook
his head and took a position that meant that he wished to try the same
thing over again. Halliday accepted, and then Frank sent the ball like a
shot.

This time it seemed a certain thing that Frank had depended on a high
straight ball, and Gibson could not let it pass. He came near breaking
his back trying to start the cover on the ball, but once more he fanned
the air.

"Great Jupiter!" gasped Collingwood, who was now aroused. "What did he
do then, Pierson?"

"Fooled the fellow on the same thing exactly!" chuckled Paul. "Gibson
wasn't looking for two in the same place."

Now the freshmen spectators from Yale let themselves out. They couldn't
wait for the third strike, but they cheered, blew horns and whistles,
and waved flags and hats.

Merriwell had a trick of taking up lots of time in a busy way without
pitching the ball while the excitement was too high, and his appearance
seemed to indicate that he was totally deaf to all the tumult.

"That's right, Merry, old boy!" yelled an enthusiastic New Haven lad.
"Trim his whiskers with them."

"Wind them around his neck, Frank!" cried Harry Rat