"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, and some 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.