“Well, Williams didn’t do a thing to Mr. Haggerty!” grinned Pink. “He was hammered beautifully, and they used Walbert fully as bad. Anyone with sense will say those two men are no good, and surely it isn’t sense to think Merriwell can pitch every game for Yale and give us a winning team.” “It doesn’t strike me you know much about pitchers and pitching,” yawned Browning. “If you did, you would not be in such a hurry to judge Haggerty and Walbert by their first game. The best pitchers have streaks when anybody can hit them, and those streaks come when they are least expected. There is nothing so unreliable as a first-class baseball pitcher. He may win a dozen hard games, and then, for no apparent reason, lose one that everybody considers dead easy.” Pooler knew this was true, but he felt the sting of the big fellow’s slowly drawled words, and he snapped: “I’ll guarantee that I know as much about baseball as you do. You did play on the ‘scrub’ with Merriwell, but you didn’t have any work. If you had--well, you are not the most wide-awake man in college.” Pooler felt that he was safe in making this talk, for Browning would not exert himself sufficiently to resent it by personal violence. Beyond a grunt, Bruce did not seem to resent it at all. Parker hastened to say something. “I don’t think there is any reason why we should be frightened because Princeton put up a good game against the New Yorks to start off with, while we made a poor showing against Williams. That doesn’t settle it.” “Last year New York beat the packing out of us at the Polo Grounds,” said Halliday, “but we won the college championship just the same.” “That only goes to show how much stronger Princeton is than we are.” “It goes to show that you can’t tell what Yale will do by the way she starts off.” “I’ll tell you this,” said Bruce; “Hodge works much better with Merriwell in the box than with anybody else. Everybody says he played great ball last Saturday. He will play much better next Saturday, for Merriwell will pitch then.” “The battery isn’t the whole nine,” said Pooler. “Hodge and Merriwell can’t do the batting, base-running and fielding for all the others.” Joe Gamp came hurrying toward the little knot. He was excited and breathless. “I say, bub-bub-boys,” he stammered, “have you heard the latest nun-nun-nun-nun-nun----” “Whistle, Joe!” cried Halliday and Parker, together. The excited lad began again: “I say, bub-bub-boys, have you heard the latest nun-nun-nun-nun--I say, bub-bub-boys, have you heard the lul-lul-lul-lul----I say, bub-bub-bub-bub----I sus-sus-sus-sus-sus----” “Whistle quick, Joe,” cried Halliday. “You are going backward, and you won’t be able to start at all in a minute.” Joe began the third time: “I sus-sus-sus-sus”--whistle--“say boys, have you heard the latest nun-nun-nun-nun”--whistle--“the latest news?” “We’re not liable to hear it if we wait for him to tell it,” muttered Pooler, scornfully.