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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 pa.s.s. 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 b.a.l.l.s, 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 pa.s.sed, 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 pa.s.s 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 n.o.body 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 pa.s.sed the _Star_ office the bulletin was out:
"Baseball To-day: "Camden, 2; Rockland, 1."
The crowd on the cars cheered as they pa.s.sed 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 st.u.r.dy 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.
CHAPTER XV.
OFF FOR BAR HARBOR.
It was nearly midnight when a boat containing four lads pushed out from Fish Market Wharf and pulled down Camden harbor toward the fleet of yachts that lay anch.o.r.ed in Dillingham's Cove.
The moon had dropped down into the west, but it still shed its pure white light on the unrippled water of the harbor, and, despite the lateness of the hour, several boating parties were out. From away toward the Spindles came the sound of a song, in which four musical voices blended harmoniously. Nothing stirs the entire soul with a sense of the beautiful like the sound of a distant song floating over the silvered bosom of a peaceful bay or lake on a moonlight night in midsummer. Hodge and Diamond, who were rowing the boat, rested on their oars, and the four lads listened a long time.
"Beautiful!" murmured Merriwell, who was sitting in the stern of the boat, the rudder lines in his hands.
Browning grunted.
"The yelling of the Camden crowd on the Rockland ball ground to-day sounded better to me," he said.
Quoth Merriwell:
"'The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, strategems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted.'"