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Frank approached her. At first she was not favorable, but Merriwell used diplomacy and finally won her over so that she consented to let the girls remain and dance an hour.
Then there was a hustling to clear the dining room floor. The old violin was brought out and Diamond proceeded to tune up.
Frank sought Phebe and asked her to waltz with him.
"I don't think I will dance," she said, pretending to pout a bit.
"Why not?" asked Merry, in surprise. "You do dance, do you not?"
"Oh, sometimes."
"And you will refuse me?"
"You deserve to be refused."
"Why, pray?" asked Frank, surprised.
"I asked a favor of you to-day."
A light broke in on Frank.
"Oh, is that it? You wanted me to pitch for Camden?"
"Yes."
"And I didn't. Well, can't you pardon me this time?"
"Really, I do not think you deserve it."
"Perhaps not, but, if I promise to do better, will you----"
"It's too late now."
"How is that?"
"Camden lost."
"And might have lost just the same if I had pitched."
"No," she said, with confidence, "I know all about your pitching. You would have won the game."
"There is another game to-morrow."
"Oh, that's in Rockland, and the Rocklands always win on their own ground."
"Is that their reputation? Well, perhaps we may be able to break the spell and defeat them on their own ground once."
"'We!' What do you mean by that? It can't be that you will pitch for Camden to-morrow?"
"Will you waltz with me if I'll agree to do so?"
"Yes," was her instant answer.
"Done!" said Frank. "I'll pitch."
Then Diamond struck into a beautiful waltz, and Frank and Phebe were the first on the floor, his arm about her waist, her hand gently clasped in his.
CHAPTER XIV.
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 a.s.sembled 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 s.p.a.ce 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!