The bags were full!
"That's a hard start for Camden," said Frank Merriwell, feeling his sympathy go out toward the boys in red.
"Dot Voods don'd seem to peen doin' a great deal mit der Rocklandt poys," observed Hans.
"It's not Woods' fault," declared Merry. "Smithers is the only man who has secured a hit off him."
If Woods was worried or disgusted, he did not betray it. He continued to pitch coolly and deliberately, for all the yelling of the Rockland crowd and chinning of the coachers.
He struck out the next man, and followed that up by causing Hammond, the fifth batter, to put up a low, infield fly, which Woods looked after himself and caught.
Then it was Camden's turn to howl again, for, although the bases were full, two men had been sent to the bench in a minute by the cool little pitcher in crimson.
"This looks better," said Merriwell, beginning to smile again. "I'll bet something Rockland does not score."
Shaddock was the next man at bat. Woods fooled him on a wide curve and a swift inshoot. Then Shaddock got mad and nearly broke his back hitting the ball.
The ball struck the ground near the home plate and rolled lazily down toward third. Smithers had started for home, and Woods started for the ball. As he passed the ball, Smithers tried to kick it aside, even though he was taking chances of being seen by the umpire in doing the trick. He failed to touch it, however, and, the next instant, Woods gathered it up with one hand, taking it as he ran directly from first base. Smithers was between him and the plate, and he could not see the catcher. He did not hesitate a fraction of a second, he did not even pause to straighten up, but, in a stooping position, he swung his arm low and sent the ball whistling to first. Spectators afterward declared that at no time was that ball more than two feet above the ground. It wentstraight to first, Williamson gathered it in, and the Rocklands were out without scoring.
Then such a roar went up to the heights of old Megunticook! The old mountain must have fancied that the Indian warriors of long, long years ago had returned and were holding a mighty powwow down there in its shadow.
Men and boys were frantic. They hammered each other on the back, they flung their hats into the air. Women screamed with joy and waved their handkerchiefs. And Woods—just then he was the hero of the moment. Scores of pretty girls were hugging each other and declaring that he was "just perfectly lovely." But he was as cool and unruffled as ever, seemingly utterly deaf to the roars of applause.
"I guess Camden is all right, after all," laughed Merriwell.
"Woods is a dandy," said Diamond.
"They do not need me to pitch for them to-day," declared Frank.
Dayguild grinned and chewed gum as he entered the box and faced little McDornick, champion base runner of the Camdens. McDornick was palpitating with eagerness to hit the ball. He hated to let the first one pass, although Dayguild sent in a wide teaser. He went for the second one, and hammered it out for two bags, although with an ordinary runner it would have been no more than a pretty single.
"Gil, you're pie," laughed Williamson, from the bench.
"You will find him hot pie before the game is over," said a Rockland man.
Moslof went to bat. He was eager, also—far too eager, for he struck at the first ball, although it was not within reach. But McDornick stole third on it, reaching the bag in advance of the ball by a beautiful lone slide.
Then Moslof batted one down to Edwards and was thrown out at first.
Mower came next. Sometimes he was a hitter. This was not one of the times. He fanned out, and still McDornick was shivering on third.
Makune faced Dayguild. It was not for the first time, as he had faced him many times before in the New England League. Although Makune was not a heavy hitter, he had done remarkable work for the first of the season, and Dayguild was afraid of him. With the ball under his arm, the Rockland pitcher turned to observe the positions of the men in the field. His back was toward McDornick.
There was a shout of warning from the crowd, and Dayguild whirled to see a figure in crimson shooting toward the plate like a streak of fire.
It was McDornick attempting to steal home!
The nerve of the act dazed Dayguild for a moment, and then he threw the ball to the catcher, thinking to put out the runner with ease.
The catcher dropped it!
McDornick made a headlong plunge for the plate, touched it, leaped up and dodged away before the catcher could pick up the ball.
Camden had scored!
Roar, roar, roar! The crowd went wild with joy. The black cliffs above flung back the burst of sound. It seemed enough to wake the dead in the distant cemetery tinder the slope of Battie. It was heard far down in the heart of the town, and it brought more spectators hurrying to the ball ground.
Williamson sat on the bench and laughed tauntingly at Dayguild, who was flustered and excited.
"Now, if they know how to do the trick, they can win the game in this inning," said a Thomaston man.
But Makune was not in good form, and he rolled one down to third, being thrown out at first, which retired Camden with one score.
But Woods pitched wonderful ball the next inning, and Rockland was given another whitewash.
By this time Dayguild had recovered his composure, and he pitched so well that Slatridge, Woods and Williamson went out in quick succession.
Then came a fatal half for Camden. Merriwell had seen Woods feeling of his elbow and working it as if it did not feel just right, and he was not surprised when Rockland fell to batting the new pitcher of the Camdens.
"Moslof ought to take Woods out," Frank said to Diamond. "He has hurt that lame arm already."
"You must be wrong, Merry," said the Virginian. "See the speed he is using. Why, I can hardly see the ball as it goes over the plate."
"Speed is all he is using," declared Merriwell, "and Rockland is eating speed. He can't use his curves, as it hurts his arm to do so."
Now the Rockland crowd had a chance to yell and laugh, and cheer, for, although Woods seemed to be pitching good ball, the "Limeburners" had donned their "batting clothes," and were hitting anything and everything. The fielders were kept busy, and Rockland players chased each other round the bases till six scores had come in.
"I said Moslof ought to take Woods out," said Merriwell, soberly. "The game is lost now."
"Woods can't be the pitcher we thought he was," said Diamond, in disappointment.
"Woods is all right if he doesn't spoil that arm," asserted Frank. "If he sticks to professional ball and takescare of his arm, he'll be in the National League before many years."1
1A prophecy that has come true, as Walter Woods was signed by Chicago several years ago. He can play any position on the diamond, and is one of the cleanest men in the business. Not long ago he pitched on the Camden team of the Knox County League, in the State of Maine. Sockalexis, the Indian player, who was with the Clevelands last season, and who created a sensation wherever he appeared, also played in the Knox County League.—The Author.
1A prophecy that has come true, as Walter Woods was signed by Chicago several years ago. He can play any position on the diamond, and is one of the cleanest men in the business. Not long ago he pitched on the Camden team of the Knox County League, in the State of Maine. Sockalexis, the Indian player, who was with the Clevelands last season, and who created a sensation wherever he appeared, also played in the Knox County League.—The Author.
At last Woods struck out the third man, and Rockland was retired, but not till she had secured a lead of five scores.
Dayguild laughed at Williamson as he went into the box.
"It's all over now," he declared. "Camden is buried."
"You can't tell about that," returned Williamson. "You have had your turn, ours will come."
But it did not come that day, although Woods pitched the game out and held Rockland down so that she obtained but one more score. The game finally ended seven to five in favor of Rockland.
A more delighted crowd than the rooters from the Limerock city could not be found. They guyed every Camdenite they knew. They declared that Camden was a snap for Rockland, and always would be a snap. They were insolent in their satisfaction and delight.
Down into town rushed the Rocklandites. They bought every tin horn they could find, and at least a dozen cow bells. They bought tin pans and drummed on them with sticks. They bought brooms and paraded with them to indicate that they had swept Camden clean. They made a frightful racket in the very heart of the village, and their scornful remarks about Camden and Camdenites in general were of a nature to arouse the anger of any inhabitant of the town at the foot of the mountains.
At last the cars from Rockland came, three of them being required to handle the crowd. They piled on and went out of Camden blowing horns, ringing bells, beating tin pans and howling derision.
Frank Merriwell stood on the corner near the opera house and heard all this. He could feel the blood within him getting warmer and warmer. He considered Moslof a fine fellow and he admired Woods. His sympathy was with Camden.
Moslof and Woods came down the street together and paused near Frank. Woods was making no excuses.
"They hit me out, that's all," he said. "I want to pitch against them again when this arm is rested."
Frank stepped forward.
"When do you play Rockland again, Moslof?" he asked.
"To-morrow," was the answer. "The schedule brings these two games together."
"Who will pitch?"
"I don't know. Woods can't, Williamson is not in shape, I am afraid to put Slatridge in, and Bascomb never was any good against Rockland, although he is a good man against any other team."
"You wanted me to pitch to-day," said Frank.
"Yes."
"I might not have done any better than Woods. He is a dandy, and he can monkey with Rockland when his arm is all right. I knew you ought to take him out at the beginning of the third, and I told Diamond so. I could see that his arm was keeping him working speed, and Rockland was eating speed."
"That's right," nodded Woods. "It was the best I could do that inning. No matter where I put them, they hit them out. I worked a change of pace, but that did notseem to bother them. After that inning, however, I kept them guessing."
"You pitched winning ball all through the game, with the exception of that fatal inning, and it is probable those fellows would have hammered anybody that inning. They had a batting streak, and they made the most of it."
Then he suddenly turned to Moslof, asking:
"Do you want me to pitch for you to-morrow?"
Moslof gave a jump.
"Do I want you?" he exclaimed. "I should guess yes! Will you do it?"
"I will."
Moslof seized Merry's hand.
"Old man, you have won my everlasting gratitude. To-morrow we'll put a team into the field that will paralyze Rockland. It will be such a team as Rockland or the State of Maine never saw before! Will we do 'em? Oh, say! We'll wipe 'em off the earth!"
"Oh, that's not certain," cautioned Frank. "You can't be sure of a victory till it is won. Camden thought she had a sure thing to-day."
"It will be different to-morrow," said Moslof. "If you pitch a winning game, the people of Camden will give you the whole town when we get back here!"
"Well, I shall do my best to pitch winning ball," assured Merry.
Directly after supper, which all the boys except Hans took at the Bay View, the Dutch lad being sent off aboard theWhite Wings, a buckboard with four wide seats came round for a party, and Merry was surprised to find that he was expected to be one of the party. Browning, Diamond and Hodge were included. The others were members of the Camden ball team.
When the buckboard was loaded the driver cracked his whip over the four handsome horses, and away they wentthrough town, up over Harbor Hill and along the street that led toward the foot of the mountains.
Soon they were close under the cliffs of Battie. There were some splendid singers in the party, and they awoke the echoes with the old college songs.
In the cool shadows of twilight they rolled along the famous turnpike, with Battie behind them and the frowning heights of Megunticook rising directly over their heads. On Maiden Cliff, standing out against the sky, they saw the white cross that marks the spot where a beautiful girl fell to her death on the cruel rocks below. At times the winding road seemed to lead directly into the lake that they could see shimmering through the trees. It was one of the most beautiful drives Merriwell had ever taken.
They turned about finally and came back by the way of Lake City, a charming collection of cottages assembled at one of the most picturesque spots to be found around the island-dotted lake. The driver pointed out the spot where the famous Lake City Inn had stood before the fire that wiped out the beautiful summer hotel.
By this time night had fallen, but the full moon was high in the heavens, shedding a pure white light over all and giving the scene a glamour that it could not have by day. Indeed, it was so light that the cross on Maiden Cliff could be seen even better than they had seen it in the twilight.
"Now, fellows," said Moslof, "there is another place we had better visit to-night."
"Where is that?" asked several.
"The Summit House, on Mount Battie."
"Hurrah for the Summit House!" shouted the boys.
"We'll have to do some walking."
"We can walk up all right."
"I don't know about that," grunted Bruce Browning. "I came out to ride."
"It will do you good to walk."
But Bruce could not agree with Merriwell, and Moslof, laughing, said that Browning should not leave the buckboard till he was safely on the top of Battie. This relieved the big fellow's mind, and he grunted:
"All right. Go ahead."
Before they reached the foot of the mountain after leaving Lake City they turned off into a road that led back into the woods. Soon they came to the new road that had been constructed by the energy and determination of the shrewd owner of the hotel on the heights. This road proved to be even better than the boys had anticipated, but it was very steep in places, so that every man except Browning walked. As for Bruce, no amount of guying could induce him to get off and climb.
The moonlight sifted down through the trees, making white patches amid the black shadows. There was not much air, and the walking lads were perspiring freely before they were far from the foot of the ascent; but they stuck to it, and, at last, they were relieved to come out of the winding way and see the lights of the hotel before them.
With a cheer, they rushed forward toward the building.
Moslof led the way round the end, and then all stopped, uttering exclamations of admiration.
Below them in the white moonlight lay the village, the harbor, the bay, the great stretch of beautiful country. Hundreds of lights twinkled in the town, the electric street lamps showing white and clear and marking the limits of the village.
Away to the south was Rockport, her electric lamps paled by the clear moonlight. Miles beyond Rockport was Rockland, her location also plainly marked by lights. Between Rockport and Camden a lighted trolley car was flying along.
Jack Diamond drew a deep breath, and his hand fell on Frank's arm.
"Merriwell," he said, "I want to thank you for bringing me down into this country. It surely is a wonderful land at this season of the year, no matter what it may be in winter. This is the most beautiful view my eyes ever rested upon."
"Everybody says that," put in Moslof. "No matter where they have been, they say that."
"I have traveled a little over the world," said Merriwell, "and I must say this is the most entrancing view I have ever looked upon."
"I'm glad I took the trouble to come up," sighed Browning.
As they were standing there, gazing enraptured upon the scene, there was a burst of girlish laughter from the hotel. Then at least a dozen girls came out upon the veranda.
"What have we struck?" exclaimed Frank.
"It must be a party," said Moslof. "Let's go in."
Go in they did, the proprietor of the hotel meeting and welcoming them. It proved that Moslof was right, there was a party of girls up from the village, and Frank's sharp eyes found Phebe Macey was among them.
Not a few of the girls were known to the boys. Those who were not known were introduced.
"What a place for a dance!" thought Frank, as he looked the dining room over. "These tables could be cleared away, and then we——"
He caught sight of the proprietor, and, in another moment, he drew the man aside.
"If you want to dance, I'm willing," was the consent of the genial owner of the Summit House. "But where's your music? There's a fiddle here, but who can play it?"
"I'll find somebody!" cried Frank, and he rushed for Diamond.
But, before the dance could be started, it was found that the consent of the young lady chaperon who had accompanied the girls must be obtained. 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.
"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 groundin 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, andsome 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. Themen 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 atonce 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. Hestruck 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 onhis 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."
"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 theStaroffice the bulletin was out:
"Baseball To-day:"Camden, 2; Rockland, 1."
"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.
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 anchored 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.'"
"'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.'"
"Huah!" said Bruce. "Talk about a 'concord of sweet sounds,' what could be sweeter than the howls of thosebaseball rooters when you worked your double shoot on the Rockland batters and kept them fanning the breeze? That was what I call music!"
"Fellows," sighed Frank, "this has been a lively day."
"It certainly has," nodded Hodge.
"Things move in a hurry down here at this season of the year," put in Diamond.
"It's rather too lively for me," confessed Merriwell. "I am stuck on Camden, but I must get out of it right away."
"Why?" asked the others, in a breath.
"The people here will not give me any rest. If I remain, it will be impossible for me to refuse to play ball with the Camden team, and I did not come down here for that. Why, I could have a hundred dollars a week if I would play with Camden. Money doesn't seem to be of value to the people here, now that they think I can beat Rockland every time I go into the box. They are ready to give up anything to beat Rockland. I haven't any grudge against Rockland. In fact, if what I hear about Wat Snell's attempt to drug me is true, I have every reason to be grateful toward Manager French, for he caused Snell's arrest, and it is likely that Wat is languishing in the Rockland lockup to-night."
"That fellow will land in prison all right," said Diamond. "He is the most vindictive creature I ever saw."
"If French pushes him, he may be shut up for a while down this way," observed Hodge.
"I was going to spend a week up there on the mountain," said Jack, looking toward the top of Battie, where the lights of the Summit House were still gleaming, despite the hour. "If we get out of here in a rush, I'll not get up there again."
"We were there last night," said Frank. "That was a jolly time, and no one expected it. After dancing onthe mountain last night, pitching a game of ball to-day and then dancing at the Bay View to-night, I am ready to rest to-morrow."
Browning grunted again.
"I believe you are getting frightened," he yawned.
"Of what?"
"The girl with the roguish eyes."
"Phebe?"
"Sure."
"Why should I be frightened of her?"
"She has hypnotized you with those eyes. Notice how often he danced with her, fellows? Inza Burrage is down this way, and——"
"She is in Bar Harbor now."
"Well, that's not far. You are counting on getting away from Phebe before she weaves her spell about you so you can't break away."
"It's wonderful how you read a fellow," laughed Merriwell. "You should go into the mind-reading business. Anyhow, we'll get up anchor early, if there is a breeze, and leave Camden behind us."
"For good?" asked Diamond, anxiously.
"Oh, perhaps not for good. We may drop in here on our way back. Can't tell just what we will feel like doing."
A boat was gliding past them. It came near enough for its occupants to recognize the lads in the other boat. Somebody said:
"It's Merriwell and his party."
Then a feminine voice called:
"Hello, Frank Merriwell. You are a dandy!"
"Thank you," said Frank, laughing. "There are others."
"Not in your class," was the quick retort. "You are the only one of the kind."
"Who was that?" asked Diamond, as the boat passed on.
"Couldn't tell you, my boy," answered Frank.
"Why, that's strange! She spoke to you as if she knew you. Familiar for a stranger!"
"Evidently she is intoxicated—by the moonlight," grunted Browning.
"If we stay down this way long, I fancy we'll find there is considerable freedom at these summer resorts," said Merry. "People do not always wait for introductions down here. But the girl in that boat would not have spoken had it been in the daytime. She knew I could not recognize her, and that is how she ventured to do it."
"Well, let's get on board," urged Bruce. "I'm tired, and I want to turn in."
"Pull away," directed Frank, and the boys began rowing again.
They passed other rowboats, and the sound of voices and laughter came over the moon-burnished bosom of the harbor. On board one of the yachts not far from theWhite Wingsa jolly party had gathered. Somebody was picking away at a guitar and softly humming the latest song. Others were chatting and laughing. The yacht was decorated with Chinese lanterns and was burning bright lights.
"Those lights would look better if there wasn't any moon," observed Diamond.
As they approached theWhite Wingsa figure suddenly arose on the deck and leveled something at the boat, while a voice called:
"Stood still vere I vos und gafe der coundersign! Uf I don'd done dot you vill oben vire onto me!"
"Here, here, Hans!" exclaimed Merry. "What are you trying to do—shoot us? Be careful with that gun!"
"Vos dot you, Vrankie?" asked the faithful Dutch boy, lowering the gun. "Vale, I don'd vant to make no mistook, und so I peen careful not to led any vellers come apoard uf me vot I don'd vant to seen. I vos glad you haf camed."
They ran up to the sloop and were soon on board. It was necessary to tell Hans what had happened that day, but he simply said:
"Oh, I knew how dot vould peen all der dime. Uf course Vrankie blayed marples mit Rocklandt."
That night they slept well in their berths, for a cool breeze sprang up about midnight, so the cabin of the yacht was not too warm, and there was the gentlest of rocking motions to lull their senses.
Frank was astir at daybreak, and it did not take him long to turn the others out when he discovered there was a land breeze.
"It's just what we want," he said. "We must get away in a hurry, fellows. We can take our breakfast after we get outside the harbor."
So the anchor was raised, the sails run up in a hurry, and theWhite Wings, with Frank at the wheel, headed for the Spindles. At sunrise she was outside the harbor's mouth, with her course set due east. Outside the harbor there was a strong, steady breeze, and it was not long before the twin mountains of Camden began to sink into the purple morning mists.
The season at Bar Harbor was at its height, and the most famous resort on the coast of Maine was overflowing with rich, fashionable and famous people. Congressmen and their families were there, millionaires from various parts of the country were there, titled persons from abroad were there. Frenchman's Bay was almost crowded with yachts, and excursions were pouring into the town by the railroad and by steamboats. There were drives by day, excursions to various points about the bay, and by night there were hops at the hotels, strolls in the moonlight, and gay times on board the yachts that clustered in the harbor.
Two days at Bar Harbor made Frank and his friends long to get away.
"This isn't much like Camden, don't you know," yawned Browning, as he rolled into his berth on the afternoon of the second day. "We made a mistake in running away from that town in a hurry."
"You know why we did it," said Frank, quickly. "We were too well known there. Now, over here we have been discreet and kept our identity secret. That was not such a task, either, for I do not fancy one out of a thousand of these people ever heard anything about any of us, or would take the trouble to turn round to look after us if they had heard of us and knew who we were. By Jove! I find it rather agreeable, fellows!"
"Oh, that's all right," nodded Diamond. "I don't fancy notoriety any more than you do, Merry; but there is something about the atmosphere here that I don't quite relish, although I can't tell what it is."
Frank laughed.
"I fancy I know what it is, old man."
"Then let me into the mystery."
"It is the air of commercial aristocracy these people wear. Now, by birth and breeding, Diamond, you are a true aristocrat, but with you blood is everything, and it rather galls you to witness the boorish air of superiority assumed by some of these millionaire pork packers with neither education nor refinement. I don't wonder. When you came to Yale you had some silly notions about aristocracy, but you have gotten over them to a certain extent, so that now you recognize a gentleman as a gentleman, even though his father was a day laborer; but you realize that no man is a gentleman simply because he is worth several million dollars and has a daughter he is trying to marry off to a foreigner with a title and a blasted reputation. We are getting nearer together in our ideas every day, Diamond, whether you realize it or not. These money-made aristocrats with their boorish manners and their inability to speak or spell the English language correctly are quite as repugnant to me as they are to you. There are plenty of such society people here, and they are making you tired, old man. I don't wonder. I am becoming a trifle fatigued myself."
"Yaw," grunted Hans, who had been listening with an owlish look of wisdom on his full-moon face, "vot makes me dired vos dose beoble vot don'd knew how to speak der English language mitoudt a misdake makin' their spelling in."
"I can't say that I relish Bar Harbor so very much," said Hodge, speaking for the first time. "I think I have seen enough of it."
"Let's move," grunted Browning.
"Oh, you will trouble yourself a lot about moving!" laughed Frank.
"I'll move when the yacht does."
"And help get up the anchor?"
"Oh, say, I'll pay Hans to do my share of pulling on the anchor line! My heart is weak, and I am liable to strain it by overexertion."
"You are not at all liable to, for you will not overexert yourself."
"If we leave Bar Harbor, where shall we go, fellows?" asked Diamond.
"Oh, there are plenty of places," assured Frank.
"Mention some of them."
"As you know, Penobscot Bay is full of islands, and on some of those islands are villages. Now, it is my belief that some of those villages would be interesting places to visit."
"A good suggestion."
"We might run down to Green's Landing or Isle au Haut."
"Say!" exclaimed Diamond.
"Say it."
"I have an idea."
"Vos dot as pad as der rheumadisms?" asked Hans, innocently. "Vere did id hurt me most?"
"Let's invite the girls," said Jack.
"Inza and Paula?"
"Yes."
"Huah!" grunted Browning, from his berth. "Anybody might have known it! Think of John Diamond, of Virginia, getting soft on a Boston girl! Ha! ha! ha!"
The big fellow's words and laughter irritated Diamond, and he snapped:
"I don't see what there is so very funny about that!"
Then Browning laughed all the more, saying:
"You see, he doesn't deny it, fellows. I suspected itwhen they met in Rockland. It was a case of love at first sight."
"Paula Benjamin is a splendid girl," said Frank, "and you are stuck on her yourself, Browning. Jealousy is what ails you."
The big fellow flopped over in his berth with remarkable suddenness, his face becoming wonderfully red.
"Now, look here, Merriwell," he exclaimed, "that won't go down with this crowd. You all know I don't care a rap about girls, and——"
"Vot made you got so red aroundt der gills, Pruce?" chuckled Hans. "Dot peen a deadt gife avay."
Jack was glad the tables were turned, and he joined in the general laugh.
"Oh, go to thunder, the whole of you!" roared Browning, as he again flopped over in his berth.
"What would we do with the girls?" asked Hodge. "We have not sufficient room on the boat to accommodate them here, and——"
"There must be some sort of a hotel at Green's Landing," said Diamond, quickly. "Of course, Miss Gale, Inza's aunt, would go along as chaperon."
"Well, it would be a change from Bar Harbor," said Frank. "This place is too much like all other fashionable seaside resorts to suit me, and still I do not feel like running away and leaving the girls. They would think it a mean trick if we were to do so so soon."
"Perhaps they won't go," said Hodge, who did not seem much in favor of the project.
"Well, we can ask them," spoke up Diamond, quickly.
"I am to see Inza this evening, and I'll find out about it," said Frank. "If they can go, we want to get away bright and early to-morrow, providing there is a breeze."
The girls gladly welcomed the plan, for they felt there would be much pleasure in a cruise among the islands of the bay. At first, however, Miss Gale was opposed to it, but Frank won her over, as Inza felt certain he could.
So the next morning the girls appeared on the pier at an early hour, accompanied by the stern-faced but kind-hearted old maid, having been brought down from the hotel by a carriage.
The boys were on the watch for them, and a boat, containing Frank and Jack, pushed off from theWhite Wingsimmediately.
The girls, the chaperon, the baggage—all were taken into the boat and soon set aboard the yacht.
Half an hour later, with all sails set, theWhite Wingswas running out to round the end of the breakwater.
With favorable wind and conditions, it is just a delightful half-day's cruise from Bar Harbor to Green's Landing. Off Southwest Harbor the wind proved something of a gale, as nothing in the shape of land lay between them and the open ocean, from which the wind swept in powerfully.
Although the yacht buried her starboard rail at times and fairly hissed through the water, Frank did not take a reef in a single sail, for there were no squalls, and, "corinthian" though he was, he was gaining confidence in his ability to handle theWhite Wings.
Paula was rather timid, but Inza enjoyed every moment of the sail. With a position near Frank, who was at thewheel, she chatted and laughed, not in the least affected by the motion or the heeling of the sloop.
Remarkable to state, Browning did not remain below and sleep in his bunk, as was his custom. He came on deck, looking remarkably wide awake, and he made himself agreeable to the girls and Miss Gale.
There was not swell enough to make anyone seasick, which added to the pleasures of the cruise.
Diamond was doing his best to make himself agreeable to Paula, and she seemed to find his company acceptable, but after a time she called Bruce to her, so that she was between them.
"Don't you think Mr. Merriwell very reckless, Mr. Browning?" she asked. "Mr. Diamond insists there is no danger, but just see how frightfully the yacht tips at times?"
"Of course, I wouldn't want to frighten you, Miss Benjamin," said Bruce, giving her a significant look and winking toward Jack; "but we all know Frank Merriwell's a veritable landlubber, and he hasn't any more judgment about running a boat like this than a four-year-old youngster."
Paula looked alarmed at this, and Diamond muttered something under his breath.
When Jack was not looking, Bruce gave the Boston girl a reassuring smile, whispering:
"Not the least danger in the world, Miss Benjamin."
She looked relieved, and then a mischievous expression flitted over her face, for she understood Browning's little game. Immediately she pretended to be both frightened and indignant with Diamond.
"I knew it!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Diamond could not deceive me. I was sure there was great danger."
"Of course," said the big fellow, in his peculiar way, "we may reach Green's Landing in safety, but the chancesare against it. However, if we are capsized, I shall not fail to assist you in getting to the mainland, Miss Benjamin."
"How thoughtful of you!" she murmured, nestling a bit nearer the big fellow, while Jack ground his teeth and looked as if he longed to murder somebody. "How far away is the mainland?"
"Only about five miles—a short walk. Hem! I mean a short swim."
Diamond sourly observed:
"Without doubt, you could walk it much easier than you could swim it, Mr. Browning."
"Oh, that is an easy swim," said Bruce, offhand. "I have often swam ten or fifteen miles. Without doubt, I could get Miss Benjamin safely ashore."
"It is nice to have such a wonderful swimmer near one—I feel so safe now," said Paula.
Under his breath the Virginian growled something that sounded like "confounded liar."
"Eh?" said Bruce. "What were you saying, sir?"
But Jack looked away, pretending to be interested in a distant island. He showed his anger so plainly that Paula was aroused to tease him still more, and she turned to chat confidentially with Bruce.
Jack could not stand that a great while. With a sudden assumption of having forgotten something, he politely excused himself and went below. He did not come on deck again till Green's Landing was in sight, although he missed the most captivating portion of the sail across the Eastern Bay.
As for Browning, he had started into the affair in jest, but he grew more and more interested in Paula as they talked during the sail. He found her remarkably bright and sensible and not at all "flighty." She talked to him of things in which he was interested, and he was astonished by the knowledge she displayed concerning some things of which he had not fancied she was posted in the least.
On the other hand, the Boston girl was astonished to find in Bruce, who had on first acquaintance seemed somewhat slow and dull, a fellow who was interesting in various ways, who did not talk nonsense to her the moment the opportunity offered to say something that she alone could hear, who had an air of dignity and was not at all self-conscious.
Never before in all his life had Bruce made a better appearance, and, long before Green's Landing was sighted, Paula had quite forgotten that Diamond had left them and had not returned.
There were other vessels and yachts in the harbor at Green's Landing, more of them than any of the party had expected to see there. In fact, there was an air of prosperity about the town built on the slope facing the harbor, although there were no large and attractive buildings, and the houses seemed scattered about in a helter-skelter manner.
TheWhite Wingsran in amid the vessels and swung up her head to the wind, her anchor going over with a splash and her sails coming down as if the halyards were handled by veteran yachtsmen, instead of a lot of amateurs.
In fact, Merriwell had sailed the boat like one familiar with the Eastern Bay, seeming to fear no dangers from sunken ledges and shoals, and his air was that of a veteran yachtsman.
But he had spent hours over his chart, so that he was perfectly familiar with its appearance, and he could have drawn from memory a practically perfect chart, marking every ledge, every shoal and every island, and giving them their correct names. Having become thus familiarwith the chart, it was not so strange that he had been able to sail across the Eastern Bay as if it were the open sea.
Having come to anchor, Paula was for going ashore at once, but Frank urged them to remain and take lunch on board the yacht, and Inza was pleased with the idea, so they stopped.
That was a jolly luncheon. There was plenty to eat, and plenty of light drinks, kept cool by the fresh supply of ice taken in at Bar Harbor. The sailors on board the vessels in the vicinity looked on with interest, envying the merry party.
Not all on theWhite Wingswere merry. Jack Diamond was silent, and not once did a smile cross his face. Paula tried to cheer him up, but she did not succeed at all, and so she finally gave up in despair, again turning to Browning.
An hour after luncheon was over, Bruce and Frank set the girls and Miss Gale ashore, carrying their luggage up to the hotel, where accommodations were obtained.
"We will leave here to-morrow, if you get enough of the place in that time," said Frank, having seen them to their rooms.
He went down into the office of the hotel, where several rough-looking men were listening to the yarn of a red-headed, red-bearded man in rubber boots. Bruce seemed to be listening to the story, and, when Frank said something about going out, he grunted:
"Wait a minute."
"Yes, sir," said the red-headed man, squirting a stream of tobacco juice at the stove, which was well plastered with it already, "I have seen the critter, and I know, by huck, it ain't no lie. He's right there on the island, and if he ain't the Old Devil hisself, he's clost relation to him."
"Now, I pull my traps right down past there every day," said an old lobster fisherman, "and I swanny I ain't never seen northing of this here pesky critter. Ef Jeb warn't sech a dinged liar," with a jerk of his thumb toward the red-headed man, "I'd jest go down there myself and spend some time a-huntin' this critter with horns an' hoofs an' glarin' eyes. I'd find out what sort of a critter it was."
"Oh, yes!" returned the one who had been derisively designated as a liar, "ef you wasn't sech a darn coward, you might do something of the kind, Sile; but you are the biggest coward this side of Long Islan', so the critter down on Devil Island won't git bothered by you none to mention."
This was said with the utmost calmness, the speaker not seeming in the least excited by being called a liar, nor did the man he had designated as a coward do anything more than grunt derisively and remark:
"That's all right, Jeb. Don't nobody take no stock in what you say, and, though this yarn about a critter on Devil Island has been goin' abaout a year, I don't know a mortal bein' whose word is wu'th a cod line that ever said he saw the varmint. Whut you're looking for is notyrietiveness, an' that's why ye're tellin' such stuff."
"I know whut I seen, an' I'll swan to man that I did see the Monster of Devil Island, as folks round here call him. I'd been down to York Island in my pinkey, and was tryin' to git back here before night, but the wind died out jest at dark, an' I made up my mind I might as well hang up in Bold Island harbor as to spend half the night gittin' to the landin', an' take a chance of straddlin' a ledge. I got inter the harbor all right, an' kinder thought I'd try ter root out a few clams on Bold Island beach. My old boat laid nearer to the back of Devil Island than it did to Bold Island. I rowed off to BoldIsland in my dory, but the tide was comin' in, an' I didn't git no clams to speak of. It was plum dark when I pulled back to the pinkey. Jest as I run alongside, I heered a sound that riz my hair, by huck! It was kinder like a groan and a smothered screech, an' I swan to man if it didn't seem to come right out of my pinkey! Scart! Waal, it did give me something of a jump, an' that I won't deny. If Sile had a-bin there he'd kerwollopsed. I riz right up with an oar in my hand, ready to slam it over ther head uf any dad-bum thing that wiggled round the pinkey. Jest then I heard that sound ag'in, an' I made out it come from the point of rocks that makes off inter ther harber. I looked that way, an' jest then ther consarnedest varmint I ever sot eyes onto riz right up from behind some rocks——"