third
into getting off the bag and then threw him out in a way that brought a
yell of delight from Yale men. That fixed it so the next batter could
not sacrifice with the object of letting the man on third home. Then he
got down to business, and Harvard was whitewashed for the last time.

"Oh, if Yale can score now!" muttered hundreds.

The first man up flied out to center, and the next man was thrown out at
first. That seemed to settle it. The spectators were making preparations
to leave. The Yale bat-tender, with his face long and doleful, was
gathering up the sticks.

What's that? The next man got a safe hit, a single that placed him on
first. Then Frank Merriwell was seen carefully selecting a bat.

"Oh, if he were a heavy hitter!" groaned many voices.

Yedding was confident--much too confident. He laughed in Frank's face.
He did not think it necessary to watch the man on first closely, and so
that man found an opportunity to steal second.

Two strikes and two balls had been called. Then Yedding sent in a swift
one to cut the inside corner. Merriwell swung at it.

Crack! Bat and ball met fairly, and away sailed the sphere over the head
of the shortstop.

"Run!"

That word was a roar. No need to tell Frank to run. In a moment he was
scudding down to first, while the left fielder was going back for the
ball which had passed beyond his reach. Frank kept on for second. There
was so much noise he could not hear the coachers, but he saw the fielder
had not secured the ball. He made third, and the excited coacher sent
him home with a furious gesture.

Every man, woman and child was standing. It seemed as if every one was
shouting and waving flags, hats, or handkerchiefs. It was a moment of
such thrilling, nerve-tingling excitement as is seldom experienced. If
Merriwell reached home Yale won; if he failed, the score was tied, for
the man in advance had scored.

The fielder had secured the ball, he drove it to the shortstop, and
shortstop whirled and sent it whistling home. The catcher was ready to
stop Merriwell.

"Slide!"

That word Frank heard above all the commotion. He did slide. Forward he
scooted in a cloud of dust. The catcher got the ball and put it onto
Frank--an instant too late!

A sudden silence.

"Safe home!" rang the voice of the umpire.

Then another roar, louder, wilder, full of unbounded joy! The Yale
cheer! The band drowned by all the uproar! The sight of sturdy lads in
blue, delirio