“You pay too much attention to Arlington,” declared Dick. “I have found that the fellow who lies about another usually hurts himself the most. Lies, like curses and chickens, come home to roost.” “That may be the way you look at it, pard; but the galoot who lies about me has to fight or run.” “It’s useless to fight Arlington. If you whip him it simply makes him worse. Unless he straightens out of his own accord, he will eventually bring about his destruction.” “Mebbe that’s right, but I can’t look at it just that way. Say, pard, are you going to try to pitch this game against Rivermouth?” Dick nodded. “I am going to pitch that game!” he grimly declared. CHAPTER VIII. FARDALE WINS! Never in all her baseball career had Rivermouth been more confident of victory than she was on that gray Saturday when she came to Fardale. Accompanied by a hundred rooters, the players marched from the station to Fardale field. The cadets were waiting for them, and a crowd of spectators had assembled. “Here they come!” was the cry, as the visiting team and its supporters were seen marching down the hill. As the Rivermouth boys poured through the gate, and the visitors marched onto the diamond, Fardale received them with a welcoming cheer. Little time was wasted. The visitors took the field for practice, and went at it in a sharp and snapping manner, which seemed to denote what they could do. Their supporters packed in a solid mass on the side reserved for them, and cheered the clever plays made by the practicing boys. “Well, what do you think, pard?” asked Buckhart, as Dick stood watching the enemy. “They’re overconfident,” declared Merriwell in a low tone. “It may be the cause of their defeat. If we get down to business at the very start and fight hard we may take some of the assurance out of them.” “How’s your side?” “Oh, it’s still lame; but I find I can pitch with my left hand without straining it. I am going to see what I can do that way.” “Great tarantulas!” gasped Buckhart. “Why, do you know that Peterson, a left-hander, pitched against them Monday, and they biffed him for eleven clean hits? You know how hard it was for us to hit him. Well, they found him pie.” “All the same,” said Dick in the same quiet manner, “I shall begin with my left hand, and use it as long as possible. When I am compelled to do so, to save the game, I may use my right.” Ted Smart left the seats and came out to Dick. “Say! Guess!” chirped the little fellow. “Arlington feels sure you will win, doesn’t he?” “I dunno.” “He must!” said Ted in his queer way. “He’s betting on Rivermouth!” “Is that so?” muttered Buckhart. “That’s what they say,” nodded Ted. “Of course he wants to give his money away. It’s just like him. He loves to give his money away. That’s why he’s betting on Rivermouth.” “Well, we will do our best to see that he gives it away this yere day,” asserted the Westerner.