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.