MERRIWELL'S DOUBLE SHOOT.
"Here come the Lobsters!"
The cry was uttered by a small boy as the Camden ball team entered the
Rockland ball ground.
A great crowd had assembled in the "cigar box," as the ground was
sometimes called because of its narrow limits. All Rockland had heard
that Camden would have a new battery, and nearly all Rockland had heard
of Merriwell and Hodge, for Frank had insisted that Bart should support
him behind the plate. The fact that Rockland had won from Camden with
Woods in the box made the rooters feel that their team was
invincible--that it could not be defeated by Camden. They had turned out
in a way to make the heart of the Rockland manager rejoice as the
quarters came jingling into the cash box.
The car had been delayed and the Camden team was late. It was followed
by such a swarm of Camden people as had never been seen on the Rockland
ball ground. This band of rooters was marshaled by a Camden man, who had
instructed them to hang together and who was to lead them in the
cheering. They packed in upon the bleachers near first base, as they had
bought a large reserved space there and it was held for them.
Rockland had finished practicing, and so the Camdens took the field.
Everybody was asking where Frank Merriwell was, but no one seemed able
to discover him.
"It was a false report," somebody said, and then the spectators,
thinking they had been deceived, began to growl.
But Merriwell and Hodge had slipped into the ground in ordinary clothes
and were getting into suits in the dressing room beneath the grand
stand. As soon as they were dressed, they came out, and Frank began to
warm up by throwing to Bart.
"Here they are!"
A boy uttered the cry, and then every eye seemed turned on the famous
Yale battery.
Among those who had been watching for Merriwell's appearance was Wat
Snell. The fellow ground his teeth with rage as he saw Frank come out in
a baseball suit.
"He shall not win this game!" vowed Wat. "I have the stuff in my pocket
that will fix him if I can get it into him."
Then Snell hastily sought some chaps who were grouped in a little bunch,
talking in low tones among themselves.
"Mr. Bixton," said Wat, "I want to speak with you a moment."
He drew one of the young men aside and whispered in his ear. Bixton
scowled and nodded, answering:
"I've got fifty dollars on this game."
Then Snell whispered some more, but Bixton shook his head and said
aloud:
"They'd kill the feller they caught doin' it. French is a reg'lar fool!
He wants to beat Camden, but he wouldn't win in a crooked way for a
thousand dollars. He'd be the first to jump on a chap that was caught
doin' up a Camden man."
"He needn't know it," said Snell, and then he whispered some more, but
he couldn't seem to win Bixton over.
"All right," said Snell. "You'll be sorry when you lose your fifty
plunks."
"I ain't lost 'em yet."
"You will if Frank Merriwell pitches the whole game."
Practice was over, the umpire took his place and called "play," the
Camden team was in the field. Merriwell walked down into the box. He
wore his Yale uniform, as he had been unable to obtain a Camden uniform
that would fit him.
The Rockland crowd looked at Merriwell with curiosity, but all the
applause he received came from the Camden rooters. At one side of the
diamond were gathered twenty small boys. Usually these youngsters were
full of taunts and jeers for Camden, but now they were strangely silent.
One of them turned to the others and said:
"Fellers, Rockland eats dirt ter-day! We kin lick anything else on ther
face of ther earth, but we can't do up that battery. I've read all about
Frank Merriwell, an' there ain't nothin' walks on two legs what kin
pitch ball with him!"
Strange to relate, he was not disputed in the assertion.
The umpire broke open a box and tossed a beautiful new "Spaulding" to
Merry, who caught it and rubbed a handful of dirt over it.
Smithers advanced to the plate. Frank had heard that it was impossible
to discover the little man's weak point, and he resolved to start right
in by fooling him--if possible.
Hodge knew what was coming when Merry assumed a certain attitude. Then,
without any flourish, Frank shot in what seemed at the start to be a
straight, swift ball.
Smithers took it for an inshoot, and, in his judgment, it must be a fair
ball. He swung for it, and then he dropped his bat and gasped.
The ball had reversed from an in to an out, causing Smithers to miss it
by at least six inches!
It was Merriwell's wonderful double shoot!
Those in the grand stand who had seen the double curve of the ball
uttered exclamations of amazement, and some of them would not believe
their eyes had not deceived them.
Smithers picked up his bat, muttering:
"If I'd been drinking lately I wouldn't wonder at it!"
Hodge returned the ball, and in a moment Merry was ready to deliver
again. Smithers fancied he had been deceived by his eyes, and so, when
Frank pitched another ball that was exactly like the first, he smashed
at it again.
And missed again!
There was a commotion in the grand stand. A loud voice was heard
declaring the ball had curved in and out, and that Merriwell was a
wizard. Another person was speaking soothingly to the excited
individual.
Not a sound from the Camden rooters, for their leader was holding them
in check. He had not given the signal for applause.
On all the ground there was no man half as amazed as Smithers. He
fancied he had batted all kinds of pitching, but here was something new
to him.
There was a hush as Frank again assumed position for delivery. Smithers
assumed a look of determination and made ready. Then the Yale pitcher
shot in another ball, this time changing his curves so the sphere
started with an out and suddenly changed to an in.
Seeing it was an out at the start, Smithers instantly decided that it
must go beyond his reach. When it changed to an in, and passed over the
plate, it was too late to get his bat round, and so he stood with the
"wagon tongue" poised, not even having offered at it.
"Three strikes--out!" called the umpire.
Then the Camden crowd could be held no longer. Never before had Smithers
been struck out like that. But three balls had been pitched, and yet,
the crack batter of the Rocklands, a man without a weak point, was
retired. The men and boys from under Megunticook rose up and yelled
like a thousand fiends. They felt that a man who could strike Smithers
out like that would have a snap with the rest of the team, and the joy
in their hearts knew no bounds.
For once the Rockland rooters were silent. They did not even have
sufficient nerve left to guy the Camdenites. They stared and stared at
the man who had struck out Smithers with three pitched balls, and their
dismay and disgust knew no bounds.
"What's the matter that Rockland didn't get that feller?" growled one.
"It was a fool trick to let Camden get him!"
Smithers walked to the bench and sat down in a dazed way, muttering:
"Well, I'll be blowed!"
Edwards picked up a bat and advanced to the plate with his usual
swagger.
"Just try that on me," he invited.
Instantly Frank decided to do so. Bart was ready, and Merry snapped in a
swift one, giving it the double curve. Edwards let it pass.
"One strike!" cried the umpire.
A roar from the Camden crowd.
Bart sent back the ball. Edwards grinned and then scowled. He made
ready. Frank reversed the curves and drove in a whistler that could
scarcely be seen as it passed through the air.
This time Edwards struck, but he found only empty air.
"Two strikes!" from the umpire.
Another roar from the Camden crowd.
Edwards began to look doubtful.
"What are we up against?" he muttered to himself.
Merriwell took his time to pitch the third ball. All at once he seemed
to send in one like the last. Edwards believed the double curve would
cause it to cross over the plate, and he struck at it.
It proved to be a straight ball, and Edwards never touched it!
"Striker is out!" decided the umpire.
It is impossible to describe the tumult that followed. For once, at
least, Camden was well represented on the Rockland ground, and the
rooters for the boys in crimson could not make noise enough. Their hour
of triumph had arrived, and they were making the most of it.
Edwards looked sour enough as he went to the bench.
"What's the matter?" asked Gulsiver, who was swinging two bats so that
one would seem lighter to him when he came to strike.
"That Yale chap is the devil!" growled Edwards.
Gulsiver was a college man and a fine fellow. He had played with Camden
the previous season, and Camden was sorry it did not have him that year.
He looked anxious but determined to do his best as he went to the plate.
Frank had decided that he was using the double shoot altogether too
much, for it would soon put a kink in his elbow if he kept it up. He had
used it on Edwards because the Rockland shortstop had challenged him to
do so. Gulsiver was tried with a coaxer, but he let it pass. Then Frank
gave him a rise, and he hit it.
The ball popped up into the air and fell into Merriwell's hands,
retiring Rockland on eight pitched balls, without a single batter
getting started toward first base.
The Camden crowd was happy, and the Rocklandites were disgusted. But
Rockland had a pitcher who more than once proved a hoodoo for Camden.
The redoubtable "Grandpa" Morse was to go into the box this day. There
had been a time when Morse could scare the Camden players with his speed
and fool them with his "southpaw" delivery. Rockland hoped that time
had not passed, even though the rooters of the Limerock City were aware
that Morse was not dealing with tenderfeet this day.
Moslof had placed Hodge at the head of the batting list at Merriwell's
suggestion. Bart picked up a heavy stick and advanced to the plate, as
Morse entered the box. The Rockland men were in their places on the
field.
Morse was working his jaw over a chew of gum. He had a glove on his
right hand, and with this he covered the ball so it could not be seen.
At the very start Merriwell made a kick about this, and Morse was forced
to show the ball in his hand. He grinned at Frank with an expression
that seemed to say he would get even, and then, putting on all the steam
at his command, he sent a high ball over the plate, thinking to daze
Hodge with his speed.
Hodge swung at it, hit it fairly without much effort, and put it over
the center field fence, trotting around the bases to the music of the
cheers of the Camden crowd.
Then Morse was riled. Williamson came next, and "Grandpa" struck him
out, giving the Rocklandites a chance to yell a little. Cogern followed,
and made a hard try for the center field fence, but Gulsiver got back
against the fence, reached up into the air and pulled the ball down, to
the increased delight of the Rockland spectators. McDornick was too
anxious, and he hit an easy roller to Edwards, who threw him out at
first.
But the first inning had ended one to nothing in Camden's favor.
Then Merriwell went into the box again, but he did not attempt to work
his double shoot till Rockland had filled the bases with a hit, a wild
throw by Mower and a dropped fly by McDornick, followed by a poor throw
to third.
Now Rockland thought her time had come. The coachers were doing their
best to rattle Merriwell, aided by the yelling crowd, but Frank never
was cooler in his life. He struck out the next man, and the next popped
up a little fly to Makune. Then Merry took a hot liner from the next
batter, and Rockland did not score.
Then Bixton hunted up Snell.
"I'll give you ten dollars to get that drug into Merriwell," he said.
"Furnish me with a boy to pass Merriwell the water and I'll do it," said
Snell. "Merriwell would suspect me."
Bixton found the boy, and the plot to knock Frank out was laid. Snell
called the boy aside and gave him full instructions.
"Here is a little vial," he explained. "All you have to do is stick by
the water bucket at the end of the Camden bench. Keep this vial in your
hand uncorked and ready. You can keep it out of sight. When Merriwell
wants a drink, it will be easy for you to drop some of the stuff in the
vial into the bucket. As soon as he drinks, upset the bucket, so nobody
else will get any of the stuff. Here's ten dollars for you."
The boy took the vial and the ten dollars. Then, when Snell was not
watching him, he looked around for French, the Rockland manager, found
him and told him the whole plot.
French was furious.
"I wouldn't have that happen on this ground for a hundred dollars!" he
declared. "Point out the fellow who hired you to do this, and I will
have him arrested! We are winning no games in that way!"
The boy pointed Snell out, and, five minutes later, Wat turned pale as
an officer tapped him on the shoulder and said:
"Come with me. Don't make any fuss, or the crowd will find out that you
hired a boy to drug Frank Merriwell. You'll be lynched if they do find
it out."
Snell could not say a word. With the officer's hand on his shoulder, he
was marched off the ground, while the crowd wondered why he had been
arrested. Bixton, the crooked sport, saw this, and it did not take him
long to disappear.
So the plot to knock Merriwell out was frustrated, and Frank pitched the
game through, giving Rockland just four hits. At the end of the eighth
inning the score stood two to one in favor of Camden. With the beginning
of the ninth a combination of bad plays placed a Rockland man on third,
with one man out. Then the next batter drove out a long fly to Cogern,
and the man on third attempted to score on it. Cogern made the throw of
his life, nailing the runner at the plate and spoiling Rockland's last
chance.
The game was over, and Camden had won by a score of two to one. It had
been a beautiful game, and once more Camden and Rockland were tied for
first place in the Knox County League.
The Camden rooters were happy, while the Rockland spectators melted away
and disappeared from view with amazing suddenness when the last man was
out.
It was plain enough that the Rockland people expected the visitors to
celebrate as Rockland had done in Camden, but nothing of the kind was
permitted. Still it was a joyful crowd that loaded the two trolley cars
and went through the main street of the city singing:
"Boom-ta-de-aye, boom-ta-de-aye,
De-boom-ta, de-boom-ta, de-boora-ta-de-aye;
We won to-day, we won to-day,
Oh, we won, oh, we won, oh, we won to-day."
As they passed the _Star_ office the bulletin was out:
"Baseball To-day:
"Camden, 2; Rockland, 1."
The crowd on the cars cheered as they passed the bulletin, and they sang
all the way to Camden.
But when those cars entered Camden what a reception awaited the victors!
It seemed that half the town had turned out to meet them. Everybody had
a horn. As the first car, carrying the ball players, approached the
opera house there was a deafening blare of sound, and the explosion of
cannon crackers, and cheer after cheer rent the air. The moment the car
stopped Frank Merriwell was torn from his seat by admirers, was lifted
to the shoulders of sturdy fellows and carried to the hotel without
being allowed to touch his feet to the ground, while the throng surged
around him and shouted.
An hour later, as he sat in the office of the hotel, surrounded by
friends and admirers, he said:
"Fellows, I'd like to spend the rest of the summer right here in this
town. It's all right! I'm glad I've found Camden, and you may be sure
it's not the last time I shall stop here."
Then the mayor of the town, who happened to be present, said:
"Mr. Merriwell, Camden belongs to you. If there is anything here that
you want, take it. If you don't see what you want, ask for it. I don't
know that we can do any better by you than that."
That evening Landlord Drayben gave the baseball boys a dinner at the
hotel, and there were speeches and toasts and cheers for Merriwell.
After the dinner the dining room was cleared, an orchestra appeared, and
there was dancing. Again Frank was the first on the floor, with Phebe
Macey as his partner. And Phebe was the happiest girl in Camden that
night.