Three Stephen Cranes on Stage.rev4 02 124 2019.pdf


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preparations to leave. Even the Yale bat-tender, with his face long and
doleful, was gathering up the sticks.
What's that? The next man up got a safe hit, that placed him on first. Then
Frank Merriwell was seen carefully selecting a bat.
"Oh, if only he were a heavy hitter!" uttered Sport Harris aloud.
Harvard’s Yedding laughed in Frank's face from the mound. He did not
even 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 rising rapidly
over the head of the shortstop.
"Run!"
That word roared from the crowd. No need to tell Frank to run. In a
moment he was scudding down to first. While the left fielder was going
back for the ball passing beyond his reach, Frank kept on for second.
There was so much noise he could not hear the coachers, but looking
straight ahead he saw the fielder had not yet secured the ball. He made for
third, and the excited coacher with a furious arm swinging gesture sent
him on.
The left fielder drove the ball to the shortstop, and the shortstop whirled
and sent it whistling home. The catcher was standing ready to stop
Merriwell in his tracks before reaching home plate.
"Slide!"
That word Frank heard above all the commotion. He did slide. Forward
he scooted in a cloud of dust. The catcher caught the ball and smacked it
on Frank—an instant too late!
A sudden silence struck the crowd.
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