LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER XXIX.

       THE END OF THE GAME.

       Table of Contents

      Now the New Haven crowd took their turn, and took it in earnest. Rattleton stood upon the shoulders of a friend, and fell off upon the heads of the crowd as he was cheering. He didn't mind that, for he kept right on cheering.

      "Merriwell, I believe you have broken the streak!" cried Old Put, with inexpressible satisfaction.

      "Well, I sincerely hope so," returned Frank. "I rather think we are all right now, but we've got a hard pull ahead of us. Harvard is still five in the lead, you know."

      "If you can hold them down—"

      "I am going to do my best."

      "If you save this game the boys won't do a thing when we get back to New Haven—not a thing!"

      The next batter flied out to shortstop, and Griswold remained on second.

      Now there was suspense, for Yale had two men out. A sudden hush fell on the field, broken only by the voices of the two coachers.

      Coulter had not recovered his nerve, and the next batter got a safe hit into right field, while Danny Griswold's short legs fairly twinkled as he scudded down to third and then tore up the dust in a mighty effort to get home on a single.

      Every Yale man was on his feet cheering again, and Danny certainly covered ground in a remarkable manner. Head first he went for the plate.

      The right fielder secured the ball and tried to stop Danny at the plate by a long throw. The throw was all right, but Griswold was making too much speed to be caught.

      The instant Old Put, who had returned to the coach line, saw that the fielder meant to throw home, he howled for the batter to keep right on for second.

      Griswold scored safely, and the catcher lost little time in throwing to second.

      "Slide!" howled a hundred voices.

      The runner obeyed, and he got in under the baseman, who had been forced to take a high throw.

      It is impossible to describe what followed. The most of the Yale spectators acted as if they had gone crazy, and those in sympathy with Harvard showed positive alarm.

      Two or three men got around the captain of the Harvard team and asked him to take out Coulter.

      "Put in Peck!" they urged. "They've got Coulter going, and he will lose the game right here if you do not change."

      At this the captain got angry and told them to get out. When he got ready to change he would do it without anybody's advice.

      Coulter continued to pitch, and the next batter got first on an error by the shortstop.

      "The whole team is going to pieces!" laughed Paul Pierson. "I wouldn't be surprised to see Old Put's boys pull the game out in this inning, for all that two men are out."

      "If they do so, Merriwell is the man who will deserve the credit," said Collingwood. "That is dead right."

      "Yes, it is right, for he restored confidence and started the work of rattling Coulter."

      "Paul," said the great man of the 'Varsity crew, "that fellow is fast enough for the regular team."

      "You said so before."

      "And I say so again."

      Now it became evident to everybody that Coulter was in a pitiful state, for he could not find the plate at all, and the next man went down on four balls, filling the bases.

      But that was not the end of it. The next batter got four balls, and a score was forced in.

      Then it was seen that Peck, Harvard's change pitcher, was warming up, and it became evident that the captain had decided to put him into the box.

      If the next Yale man had not been altogether too eager to get a hit, there is no telling when the inning would have stopped. He sent a high-fly foul straight into the air, and the catcher succeeded in gathering it in.

      The inning closed with quite a change in the score, Harvard having a lead of but three, where it had been seven in the lead at the end of the sixth.

      "I am afraid they will get on to Merriwell this time," said Sport Harris, with a shake of his head.

      "Hey!" squealed Rattleton, who was quivering all over. "I'll give you a chance to even up with me. I'll bet you twenty that Harvard doesn't score."

      "Oh, well, I'll have to stand you, just for fun," murmured Harris as he extracted a twenty-dollar bill from the roll it was said he always carried and handed it to Deacon Dunning. "Shove up your dough, Rattle."

      Harry covered the money promptly, and then he laughed.

      "This cakes the take—I mean takes the cake! I never struck such an easy way of making money! I say, fellows, we'll open something after the game, and I'll pay for it with what I win off Harris."

      "That will be nice," smiled Harris; "but you may not be loaded with my money after the game."

      The very first batter up, got first on an error by the second baseman who let an easy one go through him.

      "The money is beginning to look my way as soon as this," said Harris.

      "It is looking your way to bid you good-by," chuckled Harry, not in the least disturbed or anxious.

      Merriwell had a way of snapping his left foot out of the box for a throw to first, and it kept the runner hugging the bag all the time.

      Frank also had another trick of holding the ball in his hand and appearing to give his trousers a hitch, upon which he would deliver the ball when neither runner nor batter was expecting him to do so, and yet his delivery was perfectly proper.

      He struck the next man out, and the batter to follow hit a weak one to third, who stopped the runner at second.

      Two men were out, and still there was a man on first. Now it looked dark for Harvard that inning, and not a safe hit had been made off Merriwell thus far.

      The Harvard crowd was getting anxious. Was it possible that Merriwell would hold them down so they could not score, and Yale would yet pull out by good work at the bat?

      The captain said a few words to the next batter before the man went up to the plate, and Frank felt sure the fellow had been advised to take his time.

      Having made up his mind to this, Frank sent a swift straight one directly over, and, as he had expected, the batter let it pass, which caused the umpire to call a strike.

      Still keeping the runner hugging first, Frank seemed to start another ball in exactly the same manner. It was not a straight one, but it was a very slow drop, as the batter discovered after he had commenced to swing. Finding he could not recover, the fellow went after the ball with a scooping movement, and then did not come within several inches of it, greatly to the delight of the Yale crowd.

      "Oh, Merry has every blooming one of them on a string!" cried Rattleton. "He thon't do a wing to 'em—I mean he won't do a thing to 'em."

      The Yale men were singing songs of victory already, and the Harvard crowd was doing its best to keep up the courage of its team by rooting hard.

      It was a most exciting game.

      "The hottest game I ever saw played by freshmen," commented Collingwood.

      "It is a corker," confessed Pierson. "We weren't looking for anything of the sort a short time ago."

      "I should say not. Up to the time Merriwell went in it looked as if Harvard had a walkover."

      "Gordon

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