As he said this Frank covertly watched the face of Elsie Bellwood, and saw a shadow fall upon it. Instantly his heart relented, and he exclaimed: “Cheer up, Elsie; I was talking to amuse myself more than anything else. Bart has told me he should seek some business in the East, if you urged it.” “But you, Frank—you are going right away into Mexico?” questioned Elsie. “It’s absolutely necessary,” nodded Merry gravely. “I can’t get out of it, even should I wish to.” At this moment Henry Crossgrove, stout and florid, came toward them, mopping his face with his handkerchief. “The captain tells me we will reach Fairhaven Island within an hour,” he said. “I hope that will enable you to see the whole of the baseball game, Merriwell. Sorry we are not there now.” “Oh, it’s all right,” smiled Frank. “If we miss the first of the game, we may arrive in time to see the finish. We’ve had a delightful little cruise, Mr. Crossgrove, and we’ll not soon forget your hospitality.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XXI ARLINGTON COWS HAMMERSWELL. It was the beginning of the ninth inning of the first game in Fairhaven and the home team was one score ahead. The visitors had made a gallant fight for the game which was not yet ended. Indeed, Maplewood had not given up, as soon became apparent. On previous occasions crowds had gathered on that field, but never before in the history of Fairhaven had there been such a wonderful turnout to witness a game of baseball. Not only was every seat taken, but on each side of the ground ropes had been stretched far down past first and third bases in order to keep those standing from crowding onto the field. Even then it was necessary to employ four officers to hold the spectators back and prevent them from pushing into the outfield. Through all the game the stonecutters had whooped and cheered to their satisfaction. Although they were boisterous, they were not ungentlemanly in their language. Indeed, they were rather generous in their applause whenever Maplewood made a brilliant play. For all of that, they were intensely loyal, and, to the last one of them, were eager and anxious for Fairhaven to win. At intervals the voice of Brick McLane could be heard above the others, but sometimes it was quite drowned. High on the top of the bleachers, clinging to a post of the fence, was old Gideon Sniffmore, who occasionally waved his crooked cane in the air and shrieked until his face grew purple. All through the game he had remained standing there, apparently quite oblivious to his rheumatism, and once or twice, when he relinquished his hold on the post and flourished both arms in the air, he was in absolute danger of falling and breaking his neck. “We’ve got um now, by codfish!” he shrieked as Owen Bold struck out a man. This made the second man out.