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. The men 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 at once 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.